The Catch by Richard Reece Page B

what?”
    â€œWe’ll talk about all that when you get home, Dan. Right now you just need to focus on baseball. You’re in the semis tomorrow. Tough team?”
    â€œSame team. We’re both one and one. But we’re facing their best pitcher. I hear he could be tournament MVP.”
    â€œWell, you go get ’em. Hey, I need to ask a favor.”
    â€œSure.”
    â€œThere’ll be a guy at the game tomorrow. Name is Strauss, Jack Strauss. He’s a business friend, and he was real excited about your play. He wants to meet you.”
    â€œNo problem.”
    â€œGreat, great. Okay, you rest up tonight. I’ll talk to you after the game tomorrow.”
    After the call, I wondered if this guy was some kind of scout, or maybe just a fan. Dad had called him a “business friend.” But that didn’t mean much because I had a pretty sketchy idea of what Dad’s business even was. My older sister, Melina—we call her Mel— would joke about it sometimes. Every time we tried to pin Dad down about what he did, we got a different story: “Oh, it’s not interesting, just business.” Or “Buying and selling. You know, investments.” Or the colorful version: “I guess you could say I’m a gambler.”
    Our mom died from cancer when we were both in grade school, and we’d had what Dad called “governesses” ever since to take care of stuff at home. A lot of times, before we had licenses, Sal would drive us to school and practices, and sometimes his concern for our well-being was almost motherly. In fact, behind his back Mel called him Aunt Sally, which was especially funny if you saw him—six feet four inches, 250 pounds, and very hairy. So we weren’t on our own, and Dad was home a lot, unless he had a business trip; his main office was in our house. He worked hard. And while we never felt rich, we always had whatever we needed.
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    After supper, some of the guys who had family with them went out to movies or shopping. I went to my room, which I was sharing this trip with Shotaro Mori, one of our pitchers, usually in relief. As a roommate, Shotaro was low maintenance. He was—during the Palm— having a passionate affair with his Xbox. So he was gaming, and I was just chilling in the room when Mel called.
    â€œHey, little brother, you got me in trouble!”
    â€œWhat do ya mean?”
    â€œOne of the girls here has a kid brother on the Eagles. And you definitely rained on her parade.” Then she laughed. Mel’s laugh is special. “So,” she went on, “where did you find that catch?”
    â€œI don’t really know. I saw it was gonna be hit, and I just took off running.”
    Mel is the best athlete in our family. Since girls don’t get to go very far in baseball, she got into softball when she was twelve. Today she’s playing shortstop for Arizona State University, which is one of the best women’s softball teams in the country. There’s talk of her being an All-American. Mel’s been on TV a lot more than me.
    Then I told her what Wash had said. I just couldn’t seem to let that go.
    She listened and then said, “Yeah, that’s what coaches are for, keeping your head small. Our coach is always telling us to think past the play. But you were spectacular.”
    â€œThanks, sis. Coming from you that means a lot. Well, we’ve got the Eagles again tomorrow. Hope I can get you in some more trouble with your friend. Whichever one of us wins goes to the finals.”
    â€œWish I could watch. They haven’t offered you a TV contract yet?”
    â€œNot yet.”
    â€œOkay. I’ll call tomorrow night if I can. Good luck, bro!”
    That night as I went to sleep I was thinking about the Eagles, trying to remember anything that would help me the next day. What the next day would actually bring, though, I could never have imagined.

CHAPTER 4
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