gasping for breath. “Is Stan there?”
“Just a minute.”
Then Stan’s voice came on. “Dick,” Stan said belligerently, “you shouldn’t be calling me. I’ve told Coach Banks —”
“Stan, please come to the game,” Dick interrupted. “We’re behind ten to nothing, and the guys don’t have the spirit. They
allwant you to play. You can’t let us down, Stan. You’ve got to —”
“Ten to nothing?” Stan echoed.
“That’s right. Ten to nothing.”
“But it’s too late now, isn’t it?”
“It’s never too late, Stan. Hurry! I’ve got to go now. See ya!”
He hung up and raced back to the field.
“What did he say?” Eddie asked.
“He didn’t,” said Dick.
The Tigers didn’t score during that inning either. They returned to the field, moving like windup robots with their springs
half run down.
“Hustle!” Coach Banks ordered gruffly. “Hustle out there!”
Then, just as the Foxes’ leadoff batter stepped to the plate, Dick saw a familiar figure come into view at the park entrance.
“Here comes Stan, you guys!” he cried, jumping to his feet. “HERE COMES STAN!”
The guys leaped and shouted with joy as Stan came running in toward the dugout. Coach Banks pointed at the shortstop position
and waved Clyde off the field. Dick caught Eddie’s look and winked.
“Play ball!” shouted the ump.
Pat Hammer pitched, and the Foxes’ leadoff batter uncorked a drive over second base for a single. Then Pat walked the next
batter, and Dick’s heart sank.
Will things really be any different now with Stan playing?
he wondered despairingly.
Well, it was still too early to tell.
Then,
crack!
A smashing grounder right to Dick! He backed up two steps, caught the hop, then rushed to first. The hitter beat him to it.
“Safe!” shouted the ump.
“Oh, Dick!” Stan started to yell something else, but cut himself off short.
“I know,” Dick said, angry at himself. “I shouldn’t have backed up.”
Stan turned and started to kick at the sod when suddenly the players, the umpires, the fans, a dog running across the field
— all froze. All, except Dick — and Stan.
And there, standing between them, stood Jack Wanda. A bright smile was on his red-moustached, red-goateed face as he looked
at Dick. “Hi, kid,” he greeted warmly. “Missed me?”
“Jack! You bet I did!” Dick cried. “We really need you, Jack! Stan, this is Jack Wanda. You know, the guy I was telling you
about.”
Stan, his foot inches away from the sod he was about to kick, put his foot down and stared at Jack. “I-I can’t believe it!”
he exclaimed, his face the shade of milk.
Jack chuckled. “Well, kid, seeing is believing, isn’t it?” he said musingly.
Stan gulped and nodded.
“I have the most fortunate ability to stop time, Stan,” Jack explained. “I’m sort of acoach, and my job is to help new teams — baseball, football, volleyball, you name it — get off to a good start. Frankly, I’m
rather proud of the Tigers. You boys have done much better than many other teams that have needed my help. I’ve only had to
help you a few times, and I think you can make it on your own now. There is one thing, however, that is badly in need here.”
The boys’ full attention was riveted on him.
“That thing is sportsmanship and teammanship,” Jack explained seriously. “Without those two qualities no team could last very
long. You could see it for yourselves. Since you started to play you became more like enemies, not friends. You saw what happened
today. Half of the boys wanted to play, half didn’t. All because of you two.”
A lump rose in Dick’s throat as he looked at Stan and Stan looked at him.
“I was hoping that Coach Banks woulddrive this point home to you,” Jack said. “Since he neglected to do so, I decided that I should.”
“I-I’m glad you did, Mr. Wanda,” Stan said humbly. “It’s been me. I know. I … I have always been too mouthy. Most of
“Just a minute.”
Then Stan’s voice came on. “Dick,” Stan said belligerently, “you shouldn’t be calling me. I’ve told Coach Banks —”
“Stan, please come to the game,” Dick interrupted. “We’re behind ten to nothing, and the guys don’t have the spirit. They
allwant you to play. You can’t let us down, Stan. You’ve got to —”
“Ten to nothing?” Stan echoed.
“That’s right. Ten to nothing.”
“But it’s too late now, isn’t it?”
“It’s never too late, Stan. Hurry! I’ve got to go now. See ya!”
He hung up and raced back to the field.
“What did he say?” Eddie asked.
“He didn’t,” said Dick.
The Tigers didn’t score during that inning either. They returned to the field, moving like windup robots with their springs
half run down.
“Hustle!” Coach Banks ordered gruffly. “Hustle out there!”
Then, just as the Foxes’ leadoff batter stepped to the plate, Dick saw a familiar figure come into view at the park entrance.
“Here comes Stan, you guys!” he cried, jumping to his feet. “HERE COMES STAN!”
The guys leaped and shouted with joy as Stan came running in toward the dugout. Coach Banks pointed at the shortstop position
and waved Clyde off the field. Dick caught Eddie’s look and winked.
“Play ball!” shouted the ump.
Pat Hammer pitched, and the Foxes’ leadoff batter uncorked a drive over second base for a single. Then Pat walked the next
batter, and Dick’s heart sank.
Will things really be any different now with Stan playing?
he wondered despairingly.
Well, it was still too early to tell.
Then,
crack!
A smashing grounder right to Dick! He backed up two steps, caught the hop, then rushed to first. The hitter beat him to it.
“Safe!” shouted the ump.
“Oh, Dick!” Stan started to yell something else, but cut himself off short.
“I know,” Dick said, angry at himself. “I shouldn’t have backed up.”
Stan turned and started to kick at the sod when suddenly the players, the umpires, the fans, a dog running across the field
— all froze. All, except Dick — and Stan.
And there, standing between them, stood Jack Wanda. A bright smile was on his red-moustached, red-goateed face as he looked
at Dick. “Hi, kid,” he greeted warmly. “Missed me?”
“Jack! You bet I did!” Dick cried. “We really need you, Jack! Stan, this is Jack Wanda. You know, the guy I was telling you
about.”
Stan, his foot inches away from the sod he was about to kick, put his foot down and stared at Jack. “I-I can’t believe it!”
he exclaimed, his face the shade of milk.
Jack chuckled. “Well, kid, seeing is believing, isn’t it?” he said musingly.
Stan gulped and nodded.
“I have the most fortunate ability to stop time, Stan,” Jack explained. “I’m sort of acoach, and my job is to help new teams — baseball, football, volleyball, you name it — get off to a good start. Frankly, I’m
rather proud of the Tigers. You boys have done much better than many other teams that have needed my help. I’ve only had to
help you a few times, and I think you can make it on your own now. There is one thing, however, that is badly in need here.”
The boys’ full attention was riveted on him.
“That thing is sportsmanship and teammanship,” Jack explained seriously. “Without those two qualities no team could last very
long. You could see it for yourselves. Since you started to play you became more like enemies, not friends. You saw what happened
today. Half of the boys wanted to play, half didn’t. All because of you two.”
A lump rose in Dick’s throat as he looked at Stan and Stan looked at him.
“I was hoping that Coach Banks woulddrive this point home to you,” Jack said. “Since he neglected to do so, I decided that I should.”
“I-I’m glad you did, Mr. Wanda,” Stan said humbly. “It’s been me. I know. I … I have always been too mouthy. Most of
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