bottom of the third — two on Sandy’s two errors — and climbed into the lead, 7 to
5.
When the spacemen came to bat it was almost time for Sandy to leave for home. He was first batter, and he was greatly relieved
when Coach Malone had Ike Norman pinch-hit for him. He watched Ike drop a single over second base. Then, his glove on his
hand, Sandy trotted all the way home.
His eyes popped at the sight of Mom. She and Pop were sitting on lawn chairs in the back yard, watching Jo Ann and Elizabeth
playing in the sandbox.
Sandy stared. “Mom! Aren’t you going to work?”
She smiled. “I told you this morning. I have vacation all this week.”
15
S ANDY didn’t go back to the game. He didn’t care to show himself there again today, not after those errors he had made.
They were silly errors. He would not have made them if he had kept his mind on what he was doing. Like throwing that wild
peg to first base, for instance. If he had been thinking he would’ve realized that the runner was going to be safe.
He read the final score in Wednesday’sSharil
Journal.
The Batwings had won 9 to 8.
“Sandor,” Mom said early that afternoon, “Nibbs and your other friends have not been here in a long time. Is there something
wrong?”
He blushed. “They’re mad at me.”
Her eyes widened. “Mad? Why?”
“Well, quite a few times I went with Rod Temple on his bike instead of with them. I didn’t realize I was ignoring them. Guess
I thought Rod and I were… well, hotshots. And they don’t like my leaving the game after I play three or four innings.”
“Do they know you must come home to watch over your sisters?”
“No. I haven’t told them.”
“Then you should. It is nothing to be ashamed of. And on the baseball field befriendly to them as you were before. Maybe they think you are still a — a hotshot, and don’t want to talk to
them
.”
Sandy thought about it. “Maybe you’re right, Mom. Maybe that’s what they think. I can try, anyway.”
Mom patted his hand. “Since I don’t work this week, I will go to your ball game and take Jo Ann and Elizabeth with me. We
will all cheer for you.”
The Sharks were up first against the Spacemen on Thursday. Mom sat with Jo Ann and Elizabeth behind the backstop screen. Sandy
wished Pop were there, too. Pop hadn’t seen a game this year. But he was working.
It was hard to start shouting in the infield, shouting the way he used to before things had happened between himand his friends. But he tried. “Come on, Dick! Drill that pill by ’im!”
Kerry Dean kept up the chatter, too. Then Nibbs, Ken and Marty. Cookie Lamarr, Stubby Tobin and Punk Peters joined in from
the outfield.
Dick pitched hard. A grounder to Kerry, a pop-up to Sandy, a strikeout. The Sharks went down one, two, three.
Kerry Dean led off with a walk. Nibbs struck out.
“Okay, Nibbs!” shouted Sandy. “Hit him next time!”
It was hard yelling that. But he forced himself to, and Nibbs looked at him with a kind of startled expression on his face.
Sandy pulled on a helmet and walked to the plate. He wondered if Nibbs, Jules or Punk would yell something at him,but none of them did. It was the same few other guys who yelled.
He waited out Red Billings’s pitches, got a two-two count, then swung at a knee-high pitch. A long fly to center. The Sharks’
center fielder raced back and caught it. Cookie, up next, drilled a grass-cutter over the third-base sack for two bases, driving
in Kerry. The shortstop missed Marty’s hard grounder, and Cookie advanced to third. Stubby Tobin flied out to end the bottom
half of the first inning.
Dick Regan’s first pitch was drilled hard down to short. Sandy, holding his breath, waited for it. He tried to play the hop
— missed! The ball bounded over his head and rolled to the edge of the grass behind him. He raced after it,picked it up, started to throw, saw that it was too late and held up.
“Sorry, Dick,” he said
5.
When the spacemen came to bat it was almost time for Sandy to leave for home. He was first batter, and he was greatly relieved
when Coach Malone had Ike Norman pinch-hit for him. He watched Ike drop a single over second base. Then, his glove on his
hand, Sandy trotted all the way home.
His eyes popped at the sight of Mom. She and Pop were sitting on lawn chairs in the back yard, watching Jo Ann and Elizabeth
playing in the sandbox.
Sandy stared. “Mom! Aren’t you going to work?”
She smiled. “I told you this morning. I have vacation all this week.”
15
S ANDY didn’t go back to the game. He didn’t care to show himself there again today, not after those errors he had made.
They were silly errors. He would not have made them if he had kept his mind on what he was doing. Like throwing that wild
peg to first base, for instance. If he had been thinking he would’ve realized that the runner was going to be safe.
He read the final score in Wednesday’sSharil
Journal.
The Batwings had won 9 to 8.
“Sandor,” Mom said early that afternoon, “Nibbs and your other friends have not been here in a long time. Is there something
wrong?”
He blushed. “They’re mad at me.”
Her eyes widened. “Mad? Why?”
“Well, quite a few times I went with Rod Temple on his bike instead of with them. I didn’t realize I was ignoring them. Guess
I thought Rod and I were… well, hotshots. And they don’t like my leaving the game after I play three or four innings.”
“Do they know you must come home to watch over your sisters?”
“No. I haven’t told them.”
“Then you should. It is nothing to be ashamed of. And on the baseball field befriendly to them as you were before. Maybe they think you are still a — a hotshot, and don’t want to talk to
them
.”
Sandy thought about it. “Maybe you’re right, Mom. Maybe that’s what they think. I can try, anyway.”
Mom patted his hand. “Since I don’t work this week, I will go to your ball game and take Jo Ann and Elizabeth with me. We
will all cheer for you.”
The Sharks were up first against the Spacemen on Thursday. Mom sat with Jo Ann and Elizabeth behind the backstop screen. Sandy
wished Pop were there, too. Pop hadn’t seen a game this year. But he was working.
It was hard to start shouting in the infield, shouting the way he used to before things had happened between himand his friends. But he tried. “Come on, Dick! Drill that pill by ’im!”
Kerry Dean kept up the chatter, too. Then Nibbs, Ken and Marty. Cookie Lamarr, Stubby Tobin and Punk Peters joined in from
the outfield.
Dick pitched hard. A grounder to Kerry, a pop-up to Sandy, a strikeout. The Sharks went down one, two, three.
Kerry Dean led off with a walk. Nibbs struck out.
“Okay, Nibbs!” shouted Sandy. “Hit him next time!”
It was hard yelling that. But he forced himself to, and Nibbs looked at him with a kind of startled expression on his face.
Sandy pulled on a helmet and walked to the plate. He wondered if Nibbs, Jules or Punk would yell something at him,but none of them did. It was the same few other guys who yelled.
He waited out Red Billings’s pitches, got a two-two count, then swung at a knee-high pitch. A long fly to center. The Sharks’
center fielder raced back and caught it. Cookie, up next, drilled a grass-cutter over the third-base sack for two bases, driving
in Kerry. The shortstop missed Marty’s hard grounder, and Cookie advanced to third. Stubby Tobin flied out to end the bottom
half of the first inning.
Dick Regan’s first pitch was drilled hard down to short. Sandy, holding his breath, waited for it. He tried to play the hop
— missed! The ball bounded over his head and rolled to the edge of the grass behind him. He raced after it,picked it up, started to throw, saw that it was too late and held up.
“Sorry, Dick,” he said
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