The Year Mom Won the Pennant by Matt Christopher Page B

to hit to the infielders. There were fourteen
     players altogether, including two pitchers, Johnny Linn and Frankie Morrow. She had them shag fly balls, too.
    Cyclone Maylor and Bill Dakes alternated at second base. Cyclone was hustling and yelling every minute. Bill wasn’t. Nick,
     watching from deep short, felt that Bill wasn’t doing his best. Bill hardly made an effort for a ground ball that sizzled
     past him to the outfield.
    “Come on, Bill!” yelled Mom. “Shake a leg out there!”
    Bill moved faster after the next one.
    Someone laughed nearby. A deep-throated, amused laugh. Nick saw a car parked on theroadside with a man behind the wheel. The car started up and sped down the road.
    “Who was that?” asked Mom, curious.
    “Burt Stevens,” said Russ Gray, the first baseman. “He coaches the Tornadoes, the team that won the pennant the last two years.”
    “Is that so?” A peculiar light glimmered in Mom’s eyes. “Well, maybe by the end of this season he’ll laugh out of the other
     side of his mouth.”
    A week later Mom made a phone call and scheduled a practice game with — of all teams, thought Nick — the Tornadoes. The game
     was at six-thirty Friday.
    The Vasseys ate supper early that day. Nick had just finished eating when the Mat-sons’ car pulled up in front of the house.
     Mrs. Matson was driving and had Gale, Dave, and Marge with her.
    “Mom, I’m going over to Gale’s house for a while,” said Nick. “He wants to show me his aquarium.”
    “Okay,” said Mom. “But don’t be late for the game.”
    Gale lived near the edge of Flat Rock. His father, the only African-American on the police force, used to play professional
     baseball. He would make a good coach, thought Nick. Too bad he had to work evenings.
    The fifteen-gallon aquarium had tropical fish in it — angel fish, black mollies, zebras, neon tetras. Gale pointed out the
     different kinds with pride while the fish scooted about in all directions.
    “Those zebras are devils,” he said. “They’re always chasing the other fish.”
    Later they went outdoors. Dave and Marge were skateboarding on the large blacktop driveway in front of the garage. Dave let
     Nick use his skateboard awhile, and Nickhad so much fun he practically forgot about baseball until Mrs. Matson stepped out on the front porch.
    “You’d better hurry to your baseball game, boys,” she reminded them. “It’s almost six-thirty.”
    “Wow!” cried Nick. “Let’s go, Gale! Thanks for letting me skateboard, Dave!”
    He and Gale picked up their gloves and hurried to the street. Taking a shortcut through a strawberry field, they arrived at
     the ball park just as the Thunderball infielders were running out to take their practice.
    Jim Rennie was running out to shortstop, Nick’s usual position. Nick wondered if Mom was going to let Jim play shortstop even
     though he, Nick, had gotten to the game in time.
    When Nick and Gale ran up, puffing, in front of the dugout, Mom was handing a ball to Johnny Linn to hit to the infielders.
     Nearfirst base, Bill Dakes, a utility infielder, was hitting flies to the outfielders.
    “Well,” Mom said a bit firmly, “I wondered whether you boys had decided to play baseball or go fishing. Nick, work out there
     with Jim. Gale, trot to the outfield and shag flies with those other boys.”
    “I’m sorry, Mrs. Vassey,” Gale started to apologize. “It was my fault that we —”
    “Never mind,” Mom interrupted. “Get going. We don’t have much time.”
    Johnny’s hits to the infielders were soft and easy to handle. They were nothing like the hard grounders Dad used to hit to
     them. As far as Nick was concerned, the practice meant nothing more than a little exercise.
    Then it was time for the Tornadoes to take their turn on the field. While they did so, Mom reshuffled the lineup slightly.
    It was as follows when she was done:
Cyclone Maylor
2b
Jerry Wong
cf
Nick Vassey
ss
Gale Matson
if
Russ Gray
lb
Wayne