1
Zero Ford wished his luck would change. Maybe it was because he was tired. Or maybe it was because the afternoon sun was shining
without mercy, making him sweat.
Whatever the reason, Zero wasn’t pitching well. It was the bottom of the fourth inning, and the score was 2-0 in favor of
the Bearcats. There were no outs, and Zero had already given up a hit and a walk. The count on the present batter was 2 and
0. Two more balls and the bases would be loaded.
He wasn’t surprised when Chess Laveen, the Peach Street Mudders’ catcher, called time and walked out to the mound, his brow
furrowed.
“What’s happening? I keep giving you a target and you keep missin’ it by a mile.”
“I know, I know.” Did Chess think he was blind?
“Well, maybe if you cut out all that fancy stuff, you’d put a few over the plate. If you keep going this way, Coach will take
you out,” cautioned Chess. He jogged back to his position behind the plate, shaking his head.
Zero heaved a sigh. Didn’t anyone realize that he was just trying to stump the batters? His uncle Pete, who had been living
with Zero and his mom for the last three months, said any pitcher who could outsmart his opponents was worth a lot to a team.
Anyone could throw a fastball or a slow ball, he’d said. A good pitcher had to know how to mix up the pitches to keep the
batters on their toes.
That was when Zero decided he wanted to do something different on the mound. Something impressive.
But so far, all he’d done was throw ball after ball.
Cries of “Pitch it to ’em, Zero!” and “Show ’em what you can do, Zero!” came from the Peach Street Mudders’ fans.
Zero squared his shoulders and turned to face the batter. He checked the runners on first and second, then rifled his third
pitch to the Bearcats’ batter. He aimed for the mitt Chess held directly over and behind the plate, but the ball sailed outside
by a foot. Chess had to spring out to grab it.
“Ball!” boomed the ump.
“Come on, Zero!” Turtleneck Jones yelled from first base. “Take your time! Get it in there!”
“Strike him out, Zero! Strike him out!”
Zero’d recognize that voice anywhere. His uncle Pete was in the stands.
Zero knew Uncle Pete loved baseball. But since he’d moved in with Zero and Mrs.Ford, he’d only been able to make it to one of Zero’s games. Uncle Pete used to work as a sports announcer for a local radio
network. But his show had been canceled, and now he was out of work. He spent most of his time looking for a new job.
Zero was excited that Uncle Pete was there, but he was also nervous. Uncle Pete couldn’t afford to take too much time out
of his job search to come see a Mudders game. Zéro wanted to make it worth his while.
But as much as he wanted to try another special pitch, Zero decided to follow Chess’s advice. He stepped on the mound, checked
the runners, and breezed in a nice, easy pitch.
It was in there. “Strike!” called the ump.
The Mudders fans, including Uncle Pete, exploded with a loud, enthusiastic roar.
But the next pitch was another ball.
Boots Finkle dropped his bat and trotted to first.
Chess called time again and ran out to the mound. This time he had company. Turtleneck ran in from first, Nicky Chong from
second, Bus Mercer from short, and T.V. Adams from third.
Zero stared from one player to the next.
“What is this?” he grumbled. “A family reunion?”
2
“You’ve got to settle down,” T.V. said. “Sparrow pitched the last game, but Coach will put him in again if he has to.”
“At least let them hit,” advised Turtleneck.
“Right,” agreed Nicky. “We could get them out if they hit the ball.”
The ump came halfway out to the mound to break up the gathering. The guys split and returned to their positions. Zero turned
and faced Luke Bonelle at the mound. Luke was the Bearcats’ strongest hitter. Zero really wanted to try something tricky to
outsmart Luke.
Zero Ford wished his luck would change. Maybe it was because he was tired. Or maybe it was because the afternoon sun was shining
without mercy, making him sweat.
Whatever the reason, Zero wasn’t pitching well. It was the bottom of the fourth inning, and the score was 2-0 in favor of
the Bearcats. There were no outs, and Zero had already given up a hit and a walk. The count on the present batter was 2 and
0. Two more balls and the bases would be loaded.
He wasn’t surprised when Chess Laveen, the Peach Street Mudders’ catcher, called time and walked out to the mound, his brow
furrowed.
“What’s happening? I keep giving you a target and you keep missin’ it by a mile.”
“I know, I know.” Did Chess think he was blind?
“Well, maybe if you cut out all that fancy stuff, you’d put a few over the plate. If you keep going this way, Coach will take
you out,” cautioned Chess. He jogged back to his position behind the plate, shaking his head.
Zero heaved a sigh. Didn’t anyone realize that he was just trying to stump the batters? His uncle Pete, who had been living
with Zero and his mom for the last three months, said any pitcher who could outsmart his opponents was worth a lot to a team.
Anyone could throw a fastball or a slow ball, he’d said. A good pitcher had to know how to mix up the pitches to keep the
batters on their toes.
That was when Zero decided he wanted to do something different on the mound. Something impressive.
But so far, all he’d done was throw ball after ball.
Cries of “Pitch it to ’em, Zero!” and “Show ’em what you can do, Zero!” came from the Peach Street Mudders’ fans.
Zero squared his shoulders and turned to face the batter. He checked the runners on first and second, then rifled his third
pitch to the Bearcats’ batter. He aimed for the mitt Chess held directly over and behind the plate, but the ball sailed outside
by a foot. Chess had to spring out to grab it.
“Ball!” boomed the ump.
“Come on, Zero!” Turtleneck Jones yelled from first base. “Take your time! Get it in there!”
“Strike him out, Zero! Strike him out!”
Zero’d recognize that voice anywhere. His uncle Pete was in the stands.
Zero knew Uncle Pete loved baseball. But since he’d moved in with Zero and Mrs.Ford, he’d only been able to make it to one of Zero’s games. Uncle Pete used to work as a sports announcer for a local radio
network. But his show had been canceled, and now he was out of work. He spent most of his time looking for a new job.
Zero was excited that Uncle Pete was there, but he was also nervous. Uncle Pete couldn’t afford to take too much time out
of his job search to come see a Mudders game. Zéro wanted to make it worth his while.
But as much as he wanted to try another special pitch, Zero decided to follow Chess’s advice. He stepped on the mound, checked
the runners, and breezed in a nice, easy pitch.
It was in there. “Strike!” called the ump.
The Mudders fans, including Uncle Pete, exploded with a loud, enthusiastic roar.
But the next pitch was another ball.
Boots Finkle dropped his bat and trotted to first.
Chess called time again and ran out to the mound. This time he had company. Turtleneck ran in from first, Nicky Chong from
second, Bus Mercer from short, and T.V. Adams from third.
Zero stared from one player to the next.
“What is this?” he grumbled. “A family reunion?”
2
“You’ve got to settle down,” T.V. said. “Sparrow pitched the last game, but Coach will put him in again if he has to.”
“At least let them hit,” advised Turtleneck.
“Right,” agreed Nicky. “We could get them out if they hit the ball.”
The ump came halfway out to the mound to break up the gathering. The guys split and returned to their positions. Zero turned
and faced Luke Bonelle at the mound. Luke was the Bearcats’ strongest hitter. Zero really wanted to try something tricky to
outsmart Luke.
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