“I was going to suggest it, David. Check your e-mail. I’ve sent you the numbers for the Saratoga so you can do the arithmetic. See how much fuel you’re going to have to carry to make it to Cincinnati without overburdening the plane. I’ll watch for your calculations.”
I ran the numbers and texted everyone to limit themselves to ten pounds of baggage. It looked like we’d be able to make the flight with half a tank of fuel, which would solve most of the weight issues. I did find one balance problem. We could only make it work if Cassidy rode in the back seat. I was doomed.
I called Cassidy to give her the bad news where she couldn’t reach me to hurt me.
“David, that’s insane! I’m the only other pilot that’s going! Of course I should be up front!
“Uh, Cassidy, check your e-mail. I’ve sent you the numbers. If
She hung up on me but called back about a half-hour later and admitted defeat.
“Roy double-checked my numbers and agreed. He said that until we gain enough experience to handle a bigger and more powerful plane, we’re stuck with something like the Saratoga for this kind of flight,” I explained.
Cassidy wasn’t happy but reluctantly agreed. She made it a point to tell me we had to get the experience quickly because she wasn’t riding in the back after this trip.
◊◊◊
“What the hell, David?” Wolf asked as he doubled over after I’d slapped my glove into his crotch.
“I hear I’ve been reading too many women’s magazines.”
We were getting ready to warm up before the game, and I had the team gathered around, goofing off before we got started.
“Yeah, you have,” Phil agreed.
The little dumbass thought he was out of reach. I just flipped my glove at him and nailed him in the nuts. I had a baseball in my right hand.
“Anyone want to agree with them?” I asked, showing them the ball.
Tim was in his catcher’s gear, which made him brave. When he raised his hand, I nailed him. I don’t care if you have a cup on, a baseball to the nut area gets your attention.
“Dawson!” Moose bellowed.
“They were picking on me,” I whined.
“Okay, carry on.”
“Who wants to go next?” I asked, turning on my teammates.
“He’s out of stuff to throw,” Yuri said.
When I lunged for Yuri, he impressed me when he shoved Roc in front of me so he could escape and run behind Moose. I would catch up with him later.
“Enough goofing off,” Coach Haskins ordered. “Finish warming up.”
Fun-sucker.
◊◊◊
It surprised me when Moose announced that I would be the starting pitcher today. In the first inning, I did okay. The box score read one walk, one hit, and no runs. We did no better in our half of the first, as we were facing the best pitching we’d seen to date. The Washington kid had control of his pitches and did a good job mixing them up.
The second inning didn’t go quite as well for me, though I quickly got the first two batters to ground out. I don’t know if I was trying to get too precise or what, but my pitches were just missing the edge of the strike zone. I had no complaint with the calls because even I realized I wasn’t throwing strikes. After I walked the next two batters, Coach Herndon came out to the mound.
“Quit trying to pitch perfectly. Just throw strikes.”
“David, you got this. The guy up next is their worst hitter. Throw it past him,” Tim added his encouragement.
I took a deep breath.
“I’ve got this,” I said, sounding more confident than I felt.
On the first pitch, I tried to smoke a fastball past the batter. I think the kid was surprised when he somehow got the bat head in front of the ball, and it jumped out of the park. We were down 3–0 when the top of the inning ended.
In the bottom half, I finally got up to bat and was drilled on the first pitch. I’d prepared for this tactic by gearing up with Range Sports products. I was wearing an impact-absorbing vest under my jersey made out of the same material used in my batting gloves. You could punch a brick wall and not feel it. The gel filling dispersed the worst of it, so I didn’t react when the pitcher dropped his glove, ready for me to charge the mound.
Sorry, but that wasn’t going to happen. If you got ejected from too many games, you would get permanently suspended from play. I wasn’t taking the bait. That didn’t mean that Moose didn’t share his perspective with the umpire, though.
I got my revenge with my legs. On the first pitch, I stole second base. I then began dancing back and forth to distract the pitcher, making him worry that I planned to take third.
There’s a reason you try to keep early-season games simple. You haven’t had enough practice time to work on anything more than the basics. Picking off someone at second base obviously wasn’t something Washington had practiced, if the result was any indication.
