Tickle Box

by BobA. Troutt

Tickle Box

  By Bobby A. Troutt

  Copyright 2013 Bobby A. Troutt

  Table of Contents

  Strike Three

  Honk

  The Crow’s Nest

  Ophelia’s Shoes

  Wiggles the Worm

  Buzzard Breath

  The Swan on Willow Lake

  One Feather

  The Kite with the Rainbow Tail

  Bizzy Bee of Whispering Valley

  That’s the Way the Cookie Crumbles

  *****

  Tickle Box

  Strike Three

  Strike one, strike two and strike three was in the air once again in the little town of Tyler. Spring had finally come; baseball fever was spreading throughout Tyler and the other neighboring towns of Sideview, Gravely Hill and Bon Air like wildfire.

  Everyone was excited, especially little Joey Delmotte who was at Pleasant Field Park in Tyler for the little league tryouts.

  “Hey, kid,” yelled a deep voice from home plate. “Are you here for the tryouts?”

  “Yes, sir, I am,” replied Joey as he tucked his glove under his arm and ran over to the man.

  “Hi, I’m Coach Martin of the Tyler Sparrows,” he said.

  “Hi, Mr. Martin, I’m Joey Delmotte. I just moved here from Jasper.”

  “So, are you here to try out for baseball?” asked Coach Martin.

  “Yes, I am,” replied Joey.

  “Are you any good?” questioned the coach.

  “I think so,” he said with hesitation.

  “Have you ever played before?” asked Coach Martin.

  “No, I haven’t; but I love baseball. It has always been my dream to play,” replied Joey.

  When Joey took off his jacket, Coach Martin noticed that he only had one arm.

  “Okay, boys,” yelled the coach. “Let’s all gather around home plate for a little meeting before we get started.”

  As Coach Martin talked to the boys, he noticed Joey standing in the back all bright-eyed. He was all ears as he listened to everything Coach Martin was saying. However, a lot of the other boys were playing around, giggling and talking. Coach Martin even had to call them down a few times. But not Joey; he came to play ball.

  “Okay, boys, let’s see what you can do!” yelled Coach Martin.

  First, he worked with the boys in the infield. Joey tried hard but just didn’t fit in. He couldn’t get himself in front of the ball to get his glove down and it caused him to miss the balls. It was the same story when he was in the outfield. In the outfield, Joey couldn’t judge the ball in the air. He was either too far under the ball or not far enough under it. It was exactly what Coach Martin was afraid of. Joey didn’t have what it took to play. He had the spirit to play but not the ability.

  “Okay,” yelled Coach Martin, “let’s hit a few.”

  The boys took turns at bat. There were some good hitters and some bad ones. Guess what? Yeah, you’re right; Joey was one of the bad ones.

  “Strike one,” yelled the coach. “Strike two,” he yelled again.

  Joey stood at the plate holding the bat with his one hand. He swung with all his might.

  “Strike three, you’re out Joey!” cried Coach Martin. “Next batter up, let’s look alive out there, boys.”

  Joey walked over to the dugout and sat down on the bench with the others. He was disappointed and discouraged. He knew he would never make the team. But, there was one thing he knew in his heart; he tried his best. Sometimes, that’s all anyone can do.

  “Hey, gang, its strike three you’re out,” yelled Billy Ray the star player of the Sparrows as he poked fun at Joey. “That’s going to be your new nickname, Strike Three.”

  “Leave him alone, Billy Ray,” insisted Chip, one of the older players.

  “He’s a real Louisville slugger,” laughed Billy Ray as he walked by and pulled Joey’s hat down over his eyes.

  “What’s going on over here?” asked Coach Martin when he walked into the dugout.

  Everyone sat quietly and didn’t say a word.

  “Everything is cool, coach,” said Joey.

  As Coach Martin turned and walked away, Billy Ray whispered to Joey, “Strike Three.”

  It was Billy Ray’s turn at bat. The pitch was low to the outside but Billy Ray’s bat made contact with the ball. Pop sounded the ball as it drove long and high over the outfield fence.

  “Home run!” yelled Coach Martin. “Bring it in, boys. I think we’ve had enough for today.”

  The boys gathered around the dugout and waited for Coach Martin to make his decision. Finally, Coach Martin had made up his mind.

  “First, I want to say that I believe you all have put forth a great effort,” said Coach Martin. “Unfortunately, there are some who didn’t make the team. I hope, if you’re not chosen, that you will keep practicing to get better. Never give up or stop trying. You’re a good bunch of boys.”

  Coach Martin called the names of the boys he had chosen. Joey listened for his name but it wasn’t called. The ones that made it cheered while Joey and the others walked away. Coach Martin watched as he and the others walked away. He knew there was something special about Joey.

  “Joey!” Coach Martin yelled out.

  Joey quickly turned around and saw Coach Martin running toward him.

  “Hey, Joey, wait a minute,” cried Coach Martin.

  “What is it, coach?” asked Joey.

  “I was wondering if you would like to be the bat boy for the Sparrows.”

  “Would I!” exclaimed Joey. “That would be great, coach. Whoopee!” yelled Joey. “I made the team.”

  Joey’s eyes sparkled as a big smile crossed his face. He was only the bat boy, but to him it was the beginning of his dream. As Joey walked away, Coach Martin turned with a smile, took his hat off, ran his fingers through his hair and shook his head. That Joey, thought Coach Martin, is one special kid.

  The next few weeks were very important as the Sparrows got ready for their first game. Joey worked hard and encouraged the others when they failed. Joey’s nickname, Strike Three, stuck with him. But, in the end, the little one armed bat boy that wore uniform number three would be remembered forever. Everyone loved Joey, including Billy Ray, even though he wouldn’t admit it. Joey worked hard to help the team and was a great inspiration. After each practice, Chip and some of the other boys stayed behind and helped Joey practice his hitting, catching and throwing. Billy Ray only hung around to laugh at him and tell the others they were wasting their time. Billy Ray may have been the homerun king of the summer league, but whenever he struck out it humbled him down. But, guess what? Joey always tried to cheer him up. Unfortunately, Billy Ray still had no time for him.

  “Welcome ladies and gentlemen to the opening game of the summer little league,” exclaimed the announcer. “My name is Bob Bentley and I’ll be your announcer for the games.”

  “Take me out to the ballgame, take me out to the park,” sang the crowd.

  “This crowd is wild here today at Pleasant Field Park!” shouted announcer Bob. “They have baseball fever.”

  Everyone stood for the National Anthem. The Mayor of Tyler threw out the first ball of the season and the crowd cheered louder than ever.

  “Play ball!” yelled the umpire.

  The pitcher wound up and threw the ball toward home plate. Pop sounded the bat as it drove the ball toward outfield. It was a base hit.

  “We’re off to a great start,” yelled announcer Bob.

  It wasn’t Wrigley Field or Yankee Stadium, but to Joey it didn’t matter. He was proud to be part of a team in Pleasant Field Park. The summer league was the next biggest thing to the county fair. For the next few months, everyone would enjoy the excitin
g games. The first game went to the bottom of the ninth; the Sparrows defeated the Sideview J’s 5-3.

  From the first game to the end of the season, the Sparrows had their wins and losses. As time passed, with the help of Joey’s friends and his hard work, a future valuable player was created. It was Billy Ray’s last year to play and Coach Martin hated to lose him. The team had a good season that summer. They were midway through the season and had nine wins and six losses. They were on their way to the playoffs. Finally, the time came for the championship game.

  “Welcome everyone to the Little League World Series,” exclaimed announcer Bob. “It’s between the Tyler Sparrows and the Bon Air Eagles. Listen to this crowd cheer here at Pleasant Field Park. One of these teams will walk away, today, the winner of the summer league.”

  Joey and the team were excited. The Eagles were first up to bat.

  “There’s the pitch,” said announcer Bob. “It’s low and to the inside.”

  “Ball one,” yelled the umpire.

  “Get your popcorn, peanuts and cotton candy,” shouted the man up in the stands.

  The batter swung hard. Slam went the bat against the ball, knocking it down the third base line.

  “Foul ball!” yelled the umpire.

  “You can do it, Chip. You can do it,” hollered Joey from the dugout as Chip wound up for his next pitch.

  “Strike one,” cried the umpire.

  “This is going to be a close game,” said announcer Bob. “There’s the pitch.”

  Pop!

  “It’s a hit high out into right field. It’s going, going, it’s going… Wait a minute. Look at Billy Ray jump. He’s got it! What a remarkable catch. It’s an out,” cried announcer Bob.

  Everyone was jumping and shouting for joy until they saw Billy Ray lying on the field; he was hurt. Coach Martin rushed out to him to see what was wrong. The crowd was silent.

  “It’s hard to tell from here,” said announcer Bob. “But, it looks like he’s hurt his leg because he is limping. Coach Martin is helping him to the dugout. I don’t know what the Sparrows will do now. It appears their homerun king is out for the rest of the game.”

  Coach Martin’s team was one man short. He needed someone to take Billy Ray’s place. But who! The only person available was Joey, the bat boy.

  “Joey, you’re going to have to go in for Billy Ray,” said Coach Martin.

  “Okay, coach,” he said. “I’ll do my best.”

  The game went on as both teams played hard to win the championship. It was a close game.

  “It is the top of the ninth,” cried announcer Bob. “The score is Sparrows 7 and Eagles 6. The Eagles have one man on base with two outs. The Eagle’s batter is up to the plate. There’s the pitch. Slam, it’s a long hard drive over centerfield. It’s a homerun! The Eagles take the lead. This has been an unbelievable game. Both of the teams are good enough to be the winner. Unfortunately, today, only one will walk away with the trophy. The next batter is at the plate. This young pitcher, Chip Wells, is under a lot of pressure and is really hanging in there,” said announcer bob.

  “Come on Chip,” screamed his teammates. “You can do it.”

  “There it goes,” exclaimed announcer Bob.

  “Strike one,” yelled the umpire. “Strike two,” he yelled again. “Ball one,” cried the voice from behind the plate.

  Carefully, Chip looked the situation over. He nodded his head at the catcher, slowly wound up and threw a fastball across home plate.

  “Strike three, you’re out,” cried the umpire.

  “We’re in the bottom of the ninth,” said announcer Bob. “The Sparrows have 7 runs and the Eagles 8. Can the Sparrows pull it off with Billy Ray out of the game? Well, we’re about to see!”

  “Batter up,” yelled the umpire.

  “There’s the pitch,” exclaimed announcer Bob. “It’s a base hit. The Sparrows have one man on base. The next batter is awaiting the pitch. There it is. It’s a hit down the third baseline. The Sparrows have two men on base with no outs. There’s the pitch. Pop!

  “It’s a fly ball to left field and he’s out, one out and two to go. This game is really close. It has been something to see here today. The Sparrows have of a chance to win this. The next batter’s up.”

  “Strike one,” yelled the umpire. “Strike two,” he yelled again.

  Pop went the bat as the batter hit a line drive toward shortstop.

  “Out two,” yelled the umpire from behind home plate as the shortstop caught the ball.

  The runner on second tagged up, ran and slid into third.

  “Safe,” yelled the umpire.

  The runner on first was able to steal second while the Eagles tried to get the runner out at third.

  “We’re in the bottom of the ninth and the Sparrows are down by one point, 7 to 8. The Sparrows have two men on base and two outs,” cried announcer Bob. “What a game this has been. Now up to bat is the Sparrow’s bat boy; he is filling in for Billy Ray.”

  “You can do it, Joey,” Coach Martin and the team yelled as they cheered him on.

  “I’m counting on you, son,” cried Coach Martin.

  Joey looked around the field, knocked the dirt from his cleats and raised his bat behind him. The pitcher wound up and fired the ball across the plate.

  “Ball one,” yelled the umpire.

  Joey hit the end of his bat on the plate and raised it once more behind him.

  “Ball two,” yelled the umpire.

  The crowd eased up to the edge of their seats and the team nervously awaited the next pitch.

  “Strike one,” yelled the umpire as Joey swung and missed.

  “Keep your eye on the ball,” coached Coach Martin. “You can do it.”

  Billy Ray sat over in the dugout with his fingers crossed and talking to himself. Come on, little guy. Come on. You can do it Strike Three.”

  “Strike two,” cried the umpire as the ball zoomed across the plate.

  Joey looked out at the pitcher. He thought to himself, this is the moment. I can’t let my friends down.

  The pitcher slowly wound up and threw the ball toward home plate. Joey swung with all his might. His bat made contact with the ball. Crack went the bat and pop went the ball. It flew high and long over centerfield.

  “It’s going! It’s going! It’s gone! It’s a homerun!” yelled announcer Bob. “The Sparrows have done it. They’re the summer little league champions, Sparrows 10 to 8 over the Eagles.”

  As Joey rounded third base and headed for home, he looked at and the crowd. They were cheering and Coach Martin and the team gave him the thumbs up. When he crossed home plate, everyone went wild. They lifted Joey up on their shoulders and carried him around the infield. After things settled down a bit, Billy Ray eased out of the dugout and went over to Joey.

  “I’m sorry, Joey, for picking on you,” said Billy Ray.

  “That’s alright, Billy Ray. We couldn’t have done it without you,” replied Joey.

  Then Billy Ray took his cap off and placed it on Joey’s head.

  “In my book, Joey, you’re not Strike Three anymore, you’re the Homerun King.”