Fenway Fever by John Ritter

gave him any comfort. Billee could be sliding, could be swirldraining his way into baseball oblivion. Countless pitchers haddone the same. They come up out of nowhere, dominate for a year or two, then for some unexplainable reason, they lose whatever magic they had and slip out of sight with hardly anyone even noticing.
    But if he were sick or hurt or overworked, that stuff was at least fixable. Even if it was the sophomore jinx everyone talks about, he could bounce back from that. But if this was truly the harbinger of a new Red Sox curse, and tonight Stats had no reason whatsoever to doubt it, the thing had to be broken right away. Or else it could go on for a
long
time.

CHAPTER    16

    On Saturday morning, Stats and Mark took a break from Red Sox baseball, having suffered through yet another road loss on Friday. They clambered down the exterior stairway and, with the heavenly scent of fresh-cut grass filling their heads, they crossed Shawmut Avenue to the neighborhood ballfield where Mark’s under-16 team, the Back Bay Bums, had a game.
    It was a great day to be outside walking around, and with the Sox on the road, Stats and Mark would not need to rush off to Fenway as soon as the game ended.
    Today Stats could, in fact, relax.
    Arriving forty-five minutes before game time, Stats took his usual spot on the dugout bench, where he sat every game as the Bums’ official team scorekeeper. Number 2 pencil ready, scorebook spread open, he was all set to begin copying down the lineup Coach Carrigan had taped to the post.
    And if Billee Orbitt was having a cursed year, Mark Pagano, who sat nearby sticking on black shade strips beneath his eyes, was having a stellar one.
    In the prestigious Young Majors Baseball League, which had leagues set up in all twenty-eight Major League cities across the continent, Mark was held in the highest regard. He had patterned himself after the Breeze, and it had been an inspired choice. A true five-tool player, Mark had just lately mastered the bare-handed catch of the double play feed at second, which Ruíz used in order to gain a step.
    “Guys, listen up,” said Coach Carrigan, approaching the dugout. “One announcement before we start getting loose. We heard from YMBL headquarters in St. Louis last night. This year, because of the Fenway Park celebrations, there’s going to be a national all-star team selected from YMBL players across the nation. They’ll play against an all-star team from Japan for the YMBL World Championship.”
    “Whoa, they get to go to Japan?” said Jacky Kerwacki, a new kid from Lowell, who played either third base or was out in left field.
    Coach frowned. “Hey, Kerwacki, I said listen. Not done yet. The American team will host the inaugural game. And the host field this year will be Fenway Park.”
    The team rumbled and hooted. “No way!” “Awesome.” “I’m going.”
    “How do they pick the team?” asked Jonny Peskovich, the second baseman.
    “They’ll take the top player at each position plus two alternates and one designated hitter. Twelve guys in all.”
    Jimmy Zorro, a hard-hitting first baseman, asked, “How do they decide who’s the top player at every position?”
    “Stats.”
    Stats looked up. “Yeah, Coach?”
    “No, I mean your stats will determine your ranking. Just like in the Major Leagues with the Golden Glove and the Silver Slugger awards. Only difference is, your offensive and defensive stats will be combined into one final ranking. And, look. We still have nine games to go, so a lot can happen.”
    There was a low group hum of comprehension as the players processed the coach’s news.
    “What if you play more than one position?” asked Kerwacki.
    “As far as I can tell, they’ll take your fielding numbers at each spot and combine them to get your final stats. Whichever position you played the most innings at is your main spot, and that’s the category you’ll compete in. And by tomorrow night, each league will have the