by Tim Green
“No,” a rumbling voice said, “it’s mine.”
Josh knew the voice at once.
It was his father’s.
CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR
RIGHT CROSS WOBBLED AND began to sink toward the ground, but he hadn’t given up. Aiming for the jaw, he threw his trademark punch. Josh’s father smacked it away while his other hand twisted Right’s wrist so hard there was a popping sound. Right cried out in pain again, dropping to his knees.
Josh’s father twirled Right around, pinning both arms behind his back. He pushed Right’s face into the dirt and planted a heavy knee in Right’s back, holding him to the ground.
“Get the contract, Josh,” his father said. “Jaden, are you okay?”
“I’m okay, Mr. LeBlanc,” she said, struggling to her feet. “I thought I broke my ankle, but it’s a little better. I just twisted it.”
“Good,” Josh’s dad said. “Josh, grab that contract and get to the parking lot. I’ll give Jaden a ride to wherever she’s staying after I have a private word with Mr. Cross.”
“Are you okay, Dad?” Josh asked, gathering up the contract.
“Oh yeah,” his dad said, shoving his knee farther into Right’s back so that Right gave a grunt. “I’m just fine. Help Jaden to the parking lot, then run. They told me at the desk that you’ve got a curfew. Try to make it back there, okay? Here, I’ve got your phone.”
“How?” Josh asked.
“I’ll explain later.”
Josh took his phone.
9:53.
“I don’t think I can,” Josh said.
“Get going,” his dad said. “I didn’t leave my team back in Philadelphia with Coach Moose and drive up here just to see you sit in the stands. Go ahead now.”
Josh gave Jaden his arm to help her along. When they reached the parking lot and the comfort of the lights, Jaden said, “Go, Josh. You don’t have much time. Don’t be late. If you run, you can make it.”
Josh looked at his phone again.
9:58.
“I don’t think I can make it,” he said.
“You’ve got to try,” she said, squeezing his hand.
Josh took off like the wind.
CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE
JOSH FLEW PAST A stream of parents leaving the dorms. Streetlights and car lights were a blur. His legs, lungs, and brain were numb. He weaved and dodged without wasting his breath on apologizing and yanked open the glass door. He dashed across the lobby, heartbroken at the sight of the big clock on the wall.
The minute hand jumped forward.
10:01.
The tournament official sitting at the lobby desk in front of the elevators looked up from his papers and adjusted his glasses. He scowled and looked down at his watch, then up at the clock on the wall. Josh felt his insides melt. He wanted to explain, wanted the official to know everything he’d been through, everything he’d done and why. Then, surely, the official would take pity The official studied Josh, frowned, and said, “Looked like ten to me when you came through the door, so technically, you’re in. Do me a favor, though. Next time? Get back a little earlier. Good luck tomorrow.”
Josh grinned and nodded and managed to choke out a “Thank you.” He climbed the stairs to his room. Benji gawked at him when he came through the door.
“Dude, did they bounce you?”
“No,” Josh said, wiping the sweat from his face and flopping down on his bed. “I made it with about half a second to spare.”
Josh then told Benji everything that happened. He texted Jaden to see how she was. She texted him back that his dad was driving her to her motel and would call Josh in a minute.
Josh quickly got ready for bed, then sat waiting, staring at his phone. When his father’s number showed up, he answered before it could even ring.
“Dad, you came,” Josh said.
“I got your text,” his dad said. “I figured I’d surprise you. I was almost here when Diane called and told me about everything that was going on. She had no idea they planned on totally scamming me. She thought she was just helping Zamboni. That’s what drives her, not anything bad. Well, when she found out what they were really up to, she warned me right away. When I got there, I saw the mess in Right’s room and called Diane. She told me about the path through the woods and I took off after you. Good thing I did.”
“Yeah,” Josh said, his bubble bursting. “It was.”
The silence hung between them for a moment before Josh asked, “What happened with Right Cross?”
“Nothing really,” his dad said, his voice tense. “We’re all squared away. I don’t want to make a big thing out of this. My money’s safe, and you’re safe, and that’s all that matters.”
“But she tried to steal from you,” Josh said.
“I know,” his dad said, “but she thought I’d get the money back, and she did it for her son, Josh. I actually admire that, and, you know, I think sometimes people can change.”
Josh had to laugh.
“What’s funny?” his father asked.
“That’s exactly what Jaden and I said to Zamboni.”
“Good,” his father said. “Sometimes it’s true.”
His father wished him luck in the morning and hung up.
Benji grinned at Josh and said, “Good news, right?”
“Not bad,” Josh said.
Coach Q came by to tell them lights out.
“Heard you cut the curfew awful close,” he said to Josh.
“Sorry, Coach,” Josh said, “it was a family thing.”
Coach Q frowned. “Well, you can make it up to me tomorrow. Those kids from Southwest look pretty good. Get some sleep.”
After the coach turned out the lights and closed the door, Benji asked, “You think we can beat those guys tomorrow?”
Josh thought for a moment, then said, “Anything can happen, right?”
“You don’t sound too confident.”
“Honestly,” Josh said, “everyone on this team has played incredibly well, but we were still lucky just to get here. It sounds easier than it is. Think about it: the best players from all over the world. The best of the best. We’ll have to get lucky, Benji. That’s my honest answer.”
“But we could, right?” Benji said in the dark. “Like Miracle on Ice, remember that movie? The USA hockey team beating the Russians? What about a miracle on the diamond?”
CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX
THE DAY BROKE GRAY and gloomy, and maybe that’s why the Southwest team, whose home was Arizona, played so poorly. It wasn’t that they weren’t hitting the ball—they were. It’s just that they weren’t hitting it well. Their defense was strong. Josh and his teammates—inspired by the ESPN cameras with their glowing red lights—scrambled, scooping up grounders and snatching pop flies like they were a team full of golden gloves. Josh knew, though, that the Southwest squad had powerhouse hitters. He’d seen them in action the day before. They just weren’t in sync.
On offense the only thing going for Lyncourt was Josh. The Southwest pitcher burned through the Lyncourt lineup like a blowtorch through a Kleenex. He gave up a handful of walks, but Josh was the lone batter to connect, once putting it over the center-field fence to a rousing applause and the next time grounding out himself. But in the final inning, Josh’s earlier home run had been enough to give them a 1–0 lead, and Josh began to believe that Benji’s miracle on the diamond might come true.
Josh would only have one more at bat, so devastating was the Southwest pitcher. He looked up into the stands. His father sat there with Diane, giving Josh a thumbs-up and pointing toward the press box, where Josh knew the college and pro scouts sat taking notes on the players of the future. He smiled at his dad, not so much because of the scouts, but just because his dad was there. And even though he wished it were his mom instead of Diane sitting next to him, Josh knew from the previous night and his dad’s reaction that Diane wasn’t going away. Also, Josh couldn’t deny that she’d had a part in saving the day by alerting his father to w
hat had happened.
There were two outs already when Josh stepped to the plate for his last at bat. With a smile on his lips, he eyed the pitcher from Arizona for the third time that day. He could feel the home run coiled up in his muscles, and he ached to deliver it through his bat. The pitcher frowned and wound up, throwing a curveball. Josh read it and let it go by. The second pitch was a slider, and Josh let that pass, too. The third came fast but so low Josh checked his swing. With a 3–0 count, Josh knew he should let the next ball go too, but the thought of a walk and standing on base to watch the last batter strike out was too much for him.
So he hunted down a low pitch, driving down on it because there was no way he could hit it up and out of the park. The ball hit the dirt halfway to the mound and bounced high, right into the hands of the second baseman. Josh ran for all he was worth, but it was an easy throw to first and he was out.
Josh hung his head, furious with himself and sensing that the pitcher from Arizona had outsmarted him. The pitcher hadn’t obviously walked him, but he’d thrown enough junk so that Josh never had a chance to knock it out of the park, and now their 1–0 lead would have to stand if they were to win the world title. Josh jogged to the dugout and got his glove. Coach Q was optimistic, rallying the team with clapping and backslaps.
“We got this! We got this!” Coach Q cheered. “Come on, it’s ours. Play D, just play D like you have been.”
Josh left the dugout with Callen Fries, who had pitched the entire game. Coach Q stopped the pitcher and said, “Listen, just put them in there on the inside. They’ll keep swinging and we’ll keep making the plays.”
“Okay, Coach,” Callen said, heading for the mound.
Josh couldn’t argue with the strategy. It had worked so far, so they might as well keep on going with it.
The first batter hit two foul balls before banging one into the hole between right and center for a single. The next batter popped one up, an easy grab for Josh. The third batter punched a grounder down the first-base line, a fast out, that left the first batter at second. That’s when Benji began his chant.
“‘Hey batter, batter, batter,’” Benji taunted. “‘Swing, batter, batter, batter!’”
Josh motioned for Benji to hold off on his chant, but Benji only stretched both arms wide and bowed. Callen threw his next pitch down the middle. The Southwest batter ripped it. The ball took off for the right-field fence.
Benji backpedaled, shielding his eyes from the sun.
The ball began to drop.
Benji reached up, stretching his glove toward heaven.
CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN
JOSH WOKE UP IN his own bed, dressed, and stepped softly down the stairs. He slipped through the kitchen and out into the summer dawn. The birds were up, chirruping in their early morning symphony, and from the highway Josh could hear the solitary hum of a passing tractor trailer.
Otherwise, the city seemed to still be asleep.
Josh climbed on his bike and rode to the corner of Wolf Street and Park. He waited only a minute before he saw Jaden pedaling his way, waving like he was some kind of Roman general home from conquering a remote part of the world.
“Hey,” he said, back on his bike and falling in beside her.
“Hey,” she said back.
They rode down Park Street to the Market Diner, parked their bikes, went inside, and sat down in a window booth. It seemed like everyone who was awake in the city was inside the diner. The current of voices and smells of pancakes and coffee and home fries bubbling in onions swept over them.
“So?” Jaden said. “How are you doing?”
“You mean being a loser?” Josh asked, wrinkling his forehead and hiding behind the menu.
After losing their first game in the World Series, Josh and his teammates never regained momentum. After three losses, they were out of the tournament.
“You sound like Benji,” Jaden said. “He’s a wreck.”
“It’s not like he dropped that ball,” Josh said. “It went over the wall. There was nothing he could do about it. He knows that. You know I love Benji, but I think he likes the attention. Anyway, we had a great run just to get there.”
“Actually, I wasn’t talking about baseball,” she said, reaching across the table and lowering his menu so that their eyes met. “I meant, how are you doing with your mom and dad?”
“Well,” Josh said, “they’re supposed to meet for coffee later this week, but that’s just about me and Laurel, not them.”
“You know they love you,” Jaden said, her voice low and urgent. “Them not getting back together has nothing to do with you, Josh.”
Josh sighed and shook his head. He raised the menu back up to look at the omelets.
“It doesn’t,” Jaden said.
They sat for a few minutes with the noisy clatter of plates and silverware and people all around them before Benji and Zamboni arrived. Josh and Jaden slid toward the window to make room and they all exchanged fist bumps.
Benji got right into his menu, but Zamboni sat studying Josh and Jaden
“Don’t even tell me you’re talking about parents,” Zamboni said.
“Sort of,” Jaden said.
“There goes my appetite,” Zamboni said.
“Mine’s already gone,” Josh said.
Zamboni looked at his menu and said, “I don’t know. Your dad’s not so bad. It’s no big deal. Let’s not even talk about it. We’re supposed to be making each other feel good about our tailspin in Williamsport.”
Benji made a sound like a dying animal. “Don’t mention that place.”
“It wasn’t that bad,” Jaden said.
“Jaden’s right,” Josh said, setting his menu down on the table before resting his hands in his lap. “We shouldn’t be upset about it. We got there, didn’t we? How many people do that?”
“Winning isn’t everything,” Benji said, his face sagging. “It’s the only thing.”
“Come on, Benji,” Josh said. “We had fun, right? I mean, getting there?”
“Some fun, I guess,” Benji said, still glum.
“Yeah, when you made that diving catch in Albany?” Josh said, watching Benji brighten before turning to Zamboni. “Or when you gave me that underhand toss and I fired it home to win the regionals?”
Zamboni blushed and smiled, nodding his head.
“Or when I got to write that article about you guys winning that game?” Jaden said, beaming. “My editor said I hit a new level of writing. They weren’t even planning on sending me to cover the World Series, but then they did.”
“See?” Josh said. “We played against the best that’s out there in the whole world, the best of the best. It isn’t something we should try to forget. I want to remember how we got there. How we won a lot of games and got better—the whole team. We got to just go out there and play baseball in the Little League World Series. We got to live the dream. And that? Really?
“That’s the best of the best.”
About the Author
TIM GREEN played Little League baseball for many years before specializing in football in order to become an NFL player. But his love for baseball lived on, inspiring him to coach his own sons’ teams. After graduating as covaledictorian from Syracuse University, he was a first-round NFL draft pick and played as a star defensive end for the Atlanta Falcons. He earned his law degree with honors and has worked as an NFL analyst for FOX Sports and an NFL commentator for National Public Radio. Always an avid reader, he became the New York Times bestselling author of THE DARK SIDE OF THE GAME and a dozen suspense novels, including ABOVE THE LAW and FALSE CONVICTIONS.
Tim Green’s exciting books for young readers include the New York Times bestselling BASEBALL GREAT and RIVALS, also starring Josh, Jaden, and Benji. His Football Genius novels include FOOTBALL HERO, starring Ty Lewis, and FOOTBALL CHAMP and THE BIG TIME, starring Troy White. The author lives with his wife, Illyssa, and their five children in upstate New York.
You can visit him online at
www.timgreenbooks.com.
Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins author.
OTHER BOOKS BY TIM GREEN
BASEBALL GREAT NOVELS
Baseball Great
Rivals
FOOTBALL GENIUS NOVELS
Football Genius
Football Hero
Football Champ
The Big Time
Credits
Jacket art and design by Joel Tippie
Copyright
BEST OF THE BEST: A BASEBALL GREAT NOVEL. Copyright © 2011 by Tim Green. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Green, Tim.
Best of the best: a baseball great novel / by Tim Green.—1st ed.
p. cm.
Summary: Determined to play in the Little League World Series, twelve-year-old Josh struggles to concentrate on his game and be the team’s leader while also trying to cope with his parents’ impending divorce.
ISBN 978-0-06-168622-1 (trade bdg.)—ISBN 978-0-06-168623-8 (lib. bdg.)
[1. Baseball—Fiction. 2. Divorce—Fiction.] I. Title.
PZ7.G826357Be 2011 2010022976
[Fic]—dc22 CIP
AC
FIRST EDITION
EPub Edition © FEBRUARY 2011 ISBN: 978-0-06-207695-3
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