The baseball game turned into everything Moose had predicted. I would find myself in a jam, and Free would hit into a double play or make a running error or some other bonehead play. Whatever it was would take them out of the inning. I lasted five innings before I was sent to center field.
In the last inning, Free was up to bat, and we had sent in our closer, Kale, to wrap this up. He was facing the bottom of their order, and we were up 3–0. Kale must not have been feeling it, because the first two batters reached base on singles, which made us a little nervous. Then he bore down and struck the next batter out, only to walk the next one.
Free now had the winning run as well as the top of the order at the plate. The crowd seemed to sense that the underdog had a chance, and the volume in the stadium seemed to double. Coach Kingwood made a trip to the mound, and it looked like Kale was okay.
On the first pitch, I heard the crack of the bat that told me the ball was well hit. I watched it sail down the first base line as Nick worked his way towards the right-field corner. I felt a gust of wind and smiled as it pushed the ball foul. It seemed Mother Nature wasn’t a fan of Free.
Kale and Free’s leadoff hitter locked into a battle of wills. Kale was throwing some of his best stuff, but their hitter seemed to fight the pitches off to keep alive. The count was finally full. I gave their hitter a lot of credit for having a good eye. He’d laid off three pitches that were borderline and could’ve been called third strikes. I just hoped that Kale could keep their hitter from straightening out one of his offerings.
On the next pitch, Kale threw the heat low and away. Their hitter reached out, found the ball, and sent it sailing into the left/center field gap. Both Blake and I were hustling to try to catch the ball to prevent runs from scoring. I felt I could get there, but Blake called me off. That was when Mother Nature decided she wasn’t done with us and decided to balance the scales. There was a gust of wind which suddenly made a good play almost impossible. Blake did the only thing he could and dove for the ball.
I made a move to back him up if he missed it. The ball came down and hit off Blake’s glove. I suddenly had a baseball flying at my face, so I did what anyone would’ve done: I ducked. In that split second, I knew all of Free’s base runners had put their heads down and were sprinting to the next base. This was their chance to right the wrongs of the last few days. Out of habit, I did what Moose had drilled into me: I reached behind me and blindly made a grab for the ball.
Somehow, I found the ball in the web of my glove. I didn’t hesitate; I fired the ball to second to double their runner up and end the game.
Baseball USA filmed the games in order to have highlights for their selection and recap shows. When the highlights were shown later, it looked like I was just hotdogging it. The look on the Free players’ faces was priceless. It was like hitting a basket to win the game, only to have the other team hit a three-quarter-length of the floor buzzer shot. The only time I can remember an opponent being more stunned was the Nazareth Academy game. Their quarterback did an ‘f-you’ move after the gun and flipped the ball to Yuri for us to beat them.
I shouldn’t have been surprised when my teammates decided to rush me, knock me down, and all jump on me. It was good they weren’t football players or I might have been crushed.
“Did you see that?! Did you see that?! What the hell, Dawson!” Blake yelled as he helped me up.
“That had disaster written all over it. Thanks, man,” Kale said as he gave me a hug for getting him out of his jam.
I took a deep breath.
“Wow. I guess my coach knew what he was talking about,” I said and looked over at Free. “Come on, guys, let’s go shake their hands.”
Coach Kingwood had us gather around so he could talk to us.
“I’m not sure what that was, but I’ll take it. You boys earned your ice cream tonight. This one’s on me,” he said. He handed M.E. money and sent Bob with her to get it.
“I’ll have to talk to your coaches about that drill,” Coach Way, our outfield coach, said after I’d explained what happened.
“Okay, we need to talk about tomorrow. In the morning, there will be reporters and a crew from USA Baseball doing interviews. They want to feature us, so you will all be here at nine. If you’ve never talked to the press before, get with one of the coaches beforehand.
“I want you all to remember that USA Baseball is sponsoring this event and has paid your way here. Be sure to thank them and don’t say anything that would embarrass them, me, or your teammates. That means no ‘redneck crazy’ stories, Allard,” Coach said, which got a chuckle out of us.
“Don’t worry Coach, I’m done with all that,” Allard assured us.
I’m not sure who he thought bought that. You could tell he was still hurting from his now ex-girlfriend stepping out on him.
