by Mike Lupica
Robbie Burnett was still the only one who didn’t think so, not even slowing up now as he got close to the four-foot wall in left-center, running at full speed, glove up in the air like he was a receiver trying to catch the kind of sweet long pass Robbie could throw in football.
Coaches always talked about how they wanted guys willing to run through a wall. Robbie Burnett looked like he was ready to do just that, still tracking the ball Justin had hit the whole time.
Kept running like that, glove still held high, until he hit the wall.
And then disappeared over it.
The cheers from the Rams’ side of Highland Park disappearing with him, as if somebody had turned off all the sound that had come out of their bleachers once Justin had connected the way he had.
Now the Parkerville short stop, Alex Gomez, was running toward the wall, to the plate where Robbie Burnett had gone over it, so was the umpire who’d been behind second base.
Ben saw Sam standing and watching it all from home plate.
Justin was halfway between second and third, dead stop, staring out there along with everybody else.
Coop was the only one speaking. Of course. “When I said ‘get out,’” he said, “I didn’t mean Robbie.”
Robbie hitting the wall harder than he’d hit Ben with that pitch, something that now felt as if it had happened in another summer.
They saw his glove then.
Saw the glove and then they saw Robbie Burnett reaching into his glove, taking the ball out of it, showing it to the ump, holding the ball as high as he could.
Saw the ump turn and put his right arm high and let everybody know that Robbie had made the greatest catch any of them would probably ever see. Let them know that the game was over and the Rams’ season was over.
That it was still 10–9 Parkerville, the way it would always be.
* * *
The Rams got into the line between the mound and home plate, none of them saying anything to each other, just saying “Good game” to the Parkerville players, one after another. Ben was last in the line, as usual.
Robbie was at the back of the Parkerville line.
Ben smiled at him, up-topped him with a high five, said, “How did you make that catch?”
Robbie said, “How did you make that throw to Sam in football?”
“You okay?” Ben said.
“I can take a hit,” he said. “Just like you.”
“See you in football,” Ben said.
Mr. Brown went out on the field, brought Ben and Sam and Justin with him, collected the runner-up trophy, came back, and told the team that he’d never been prouder to finish second his whole life.
Then they all watched from the bench as Robbie and the Parkerville players knelt in front of the mound, the championship in the grass in front of them, and posed for pictures.
The trophy that Ben was sure was going to belong to them, all the way until Justin’s ball came down and Robbie’s glove came up.
In a quiet voice Sam said to Ben, “It would have been so awesome.”
And Ben said, “It was awesome.”
“That why I don’t feel as crushed as I should?”
“Yeah,” Ben said, then said to Sam Brown, “This game tonight, the way we came back? This is why we play.”
About fifteen minutes later, as the rest of the Rams were having their snacks, no one in any hurry to leave the field, Ben broke off from his teammates, walked across the infield and into the outfield, walked all the way out, opened the door in center, walked to his left, to the place where Robbie had landed, thought about what he must have felt like when he felt the ball in the pocket of his glove.
Then he leaned his arms on the top of the fence and looked back at the field.
At his own teammates, eating away and drinking and talking and already laughing; it was what you did when you were eleven, he knew, maybe that’s why Coop wanted to stay eleven forever.
Looked at the Parkerville players, still celebrating, still posing for pictures for the parents holding up their camera phones.
Saw Justin’s parents, standing with Mr. Brown and Ben’s dad.
It was then that he saw Justin walking across the outfield, walking through the open door himself, coming over to where Ben stood behind the wall in left-center.
Now he was the one up-topping Ben with a high five.
“You okay?” Ben said to him, asking for a different reason than he’d asked Robbie.
“As Coop would say,” Justin said, “I’m gorgeous.”
“Really?”
“Really,” he said. “You know how much I want to win. How much I wanted to win this. But I keep trying to feel like we lost, and I just can’t.”
“You got all of it.”
“Almost all of it,” he said. “But I couldn’t let him walk me.”
“Sometimes that’s what sports is, you know?” Ben said. “It’s almost.”
“My dad always tells me to leave it all on the field,” Justin said.
“All dads say that.”
“But who knew,” Justin said, “you could leave it off the field the way Robbie did?”
“Who knew?” Ben said.
They were silent for a moment and then Justin said, “Remember that night in my room when you asked me, what about my memories, how come they didn’t count to my parents?”
Ben nodded.
“Thanks for helping me get one more,” Justin said.
“Got a few myself,” Ben said. “Just sayin’.”
“I’ll still never forget what you did for me,” Justin said. “And the kind of friend you turned into.”
“Same,” Ben said.
Ben was going to say more. Was going to explain — one last time — that Justin had done more for him this season, way more. That as much as he thought he knew about being a teammate, and a friend, he’d found out you never stopped learning about how to be both.
Coop joked about not growing up, but maybe this was how you did, whether you wanted to or not, whether you were moving away or not.
Justin Bard said, “You know want to know something?”
“What?” Ben said.
And Justin said, “I’m ready to go now.”
His friend knew exactly what he meant.
SEE HOW ONE INCREDIBLE FOOTBALL SEASON CHANGED THE GAME FOR BEN AND HIS FRIENDS.
Ben McBain is every football team’s dream player. When the game is on the line, his number is the one being called for the final play. But Ben wants to be the starting quarterback and the one thing standing in his way is the coach’s son.
Shawn O’Brien looks the part. He has been groomed by his father, a former professional quarterback. But despite his size and arm strength, Shawn is struggling.
Ben is torn between being a good teammate and going after his own dream. As Ben finds out, Shawn isn’t the easiest person to help. And when Ben gets an unexpected opportunity, the entire game will change for the both of them.
Thank you to my wife, Taylor, and our children: Christopher, Alex, Zach, and Hannah.
And thanks to all the kids I ever coached, and the memories they produced, and the stories they made me want to tell.
MIKE LUPICA is the New York Times bestselling, highly acclaimed author of several books for young readers, including Heat, Travel Team, The Big Field, Million-Dollar Throw, and The Underdogs. One of the most prominent sports writers in America, Mr. Lupica writes a column for the New York Daily News and can be seen weekly on ESPN’s The Sports Reporters. He lives in Connecticut with his wife and their four children.
Copyright © 2014 by Mike Lupica
All rights reserved. Published by Scholastic Press, an imprint of Scholastic Inc., Publishers since 1920. SCHOLASTIC, SCHOLASTIC PRESS, and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Available
First edition, March 2014
Cover art & design © 2014 by Phil Falco
Author photo by Taylor McKelvy Lupica
e-ISBN 978-0-545-63394-9
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, 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 hereafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher. For information regarding permission, write to Scholastic Inc., Attention: Permissions Department, 557 Broadway, New York, NY 10012.