Copyright © 2022-2024 DouglasDD. All Rights Reserved.
CHAPTER 23
BASEBRAWL-DAY 3. OPENING DAY
THURSDAY, JULY 30
<Starting the Day>
After the events of the day before, the very tired Goat players were happy to be able to sleep in. They were expected to be at breakfast before ten o’clock; otherwise, the time was up to each player. Coach Hallion had told them the team was not expected to eat together for this meal. But even with the ticket to sleep in, the Goats all arrived in the banquet room between nine and nine-thirty.
All of them had awakened in a state of excitement. It was Opening Day for the SoCal BaseBrawl and the Goats would be heading for Mission Park at 11:15 for their 12:30 game.
A lot of the chatter commenced between the Sunnyside All-Stars from Tucson and the Goats, who would be playing each other. Like the day before in the pool area, the chatter contained good-natured ribbing along with players seriously trying to get to know each other. Both teams were class acts that emphasized good sportsmanship.
The Sunnyside team was not as closely knit as the Goats since they drew from a wider area covering more than one school. Most of the Goats had attended school together since they were in the primary grades and had participated in sports together since at least third grade. Their long history as classmates, teammates, and friends, had led to numerous experiences together and many close friendships, factors that were a team strength.
The Mounties were scheduled to play the Chula Vista team at 1:30. Like the Goats, most of the players had known each other since elementary school. The players had an easy going way about them and were the chattiest of the four teams at the Carlsbad. They felt they were as good as anybody in the tournament no matter what the California “experts” thought. As with the Goats, their bonding was a strength.
The fourth team was the Dixie All Stars from St. George, Utah. The name Dixie dated back to the founding of St. George in 1861 as a cotton mission, which gave the town the nickname “Dixie”.
The Utahans were the quietest team of the four. Unlike the other three teams at the resort, the Dixies were convinced they didn’t belong in the tourney. The team’s coach had applied for an invitation at the insistence of the team’s sponsor and a few other businessmen in the town after the team won a state-wide tournament. While the players were happy to get the opportunity to explore Southern California, they wished that it wasn’t at the expense of having to play baseball against some of the best teams the area had to offer.
While some of the Yard Goats had some doubts about the team’s ability to be successful in the tournament, some thought being one of the top two finishers in the consolation tournament could be considered a success.
After eating, all of the teams, except St. George, sat around the pool and in the courtyard, chatting, snoozing, playing catch, and, of course, texting. The Utah players, who were the only ones to sit strictly in their dining area, met in one of the meeting rooms as the coaches tried to do some team building exercises with a group of boys who were obviously lacking in confidence.
Sometime before eleven all of the teams except the Mounties headed for their rooms to put on their uniforms and pack their equipment bags as they prepared to head for their buses.
As they came across each other in the boarding area the Mayfield and Tucson teams wished each other good luck for the last time that morning. They knew that once they arrived at Mission Sports Park they would be all business and focused on themselves. The Goats noted that the Tucson blue jerseys said “Sun Kings” in red lettering across the chests.
<Mission Sports Park. Game Time>
Alex and Jaden received a ride to the sports complex from Jaden’s mother. They were eager to see the Goats play. Their Mayfield connections had made them avid Yard Goat fans.
The usual pregame routine helped the players for both teams gain control of their pregame jitters. The final minutes before the game had a slight change from normal, the singing of two National Anthems. Since the Mounties were in the tournament, Inez Perez, 15, who would be a sophomore at Oceanside High School in the fall, would open with “O Canada”, the Canadian anthem. After she finished her rendition, Matthew Meijer, 16, who would be a junior at East Harbor High School, would sing “The Star-Spangled Banner”.
As soon as the umpires ended the home plate meeting the players lined up on the foul line in front of their respective dugout for the singing of the National Anthems.
Inez was the daughter of Robert Perez, the tournament director. While there was some nepotism involved in the choice, Robert had her vetted by Carol Novak before announcing Inez as the choice to sing the Canadian anthem. Inez was a talented singer, who was taking voice lessons. While she wasn’t the best choice available, she was good enough not to embarrass herself, her father, or Carol, for that matter.
Inez had worked on the song with her voice teacher and had practiced hard and long. Her hard work showed as she sang out the lyrics in a clear soprano, although she did hit a couple of wrong notes along the way.
O Canada! Our home and native land!
True patriot love in all of us command.
With glowing hearts we see thee rise
The True North, strong and free;
From far and wide,
O Canada! We stand on guard for thee.
Her rendition was the best she was capable of. It was nothing great but more than good enough for the venue. Her father and mother were proud of her, and Inez knew she had aced her assignment. Down on Field 4 the Mounty players, coaches, and fans all agreed that the singer, whoever she was, had done well.
It was now time for “The Star-Spangled Banner.” Matthew took the mic and realized just how nervous he was. He tried to reason that comparatively, this wasn’t a big deal. He’d sung in front of much larger audiences of paying concert goers. He’d successfully tried out for The Voice. Singing in front of a few hundred people at a baseball tournament for middle schoolers was not high stakes.
Standing there nattily dressed in light blue chinos and his navy Force jersey, Matthew watched the players, coaches and parents anticipating his singing of the National Anthem so they could begin the tournament. Seconds passed as he waited for the backing track to be played.
Finally, Mr. Perez walked out to talk to Matthew. “They accidentally deleted the backing track. Can you sing it without the music?”
Matthew nodded and took a deep breath. When Mr. Perez was off the field, the announcer spoke from the box. “Please stand and remove your hats for our National Anthem as sung by East Harbor’s Matthew Meijer, a member of the San Diego Force 18 and under baseball team and the rock group, At the Majestic.”
Starting quietly, Matthew began singing without the accompaniment. Keeping a good pace to keep the song moving along, his clear, powerful voice carried through the park. Small flourishes stylized the song here and there, but he planned to keep the vocals simple, while using volume to bring drama to the performance.
His crescendo peaked when singing of rockets and bombs. For the adults, the performance seemed to be an updated, yet traditional delivery that pleased them. For the boys, the song moved along quickly, and the vocals were relatable, instead of sounding like a song that’s hundreds of years old. And perhaps most importantly, no one knew a backing track was missing.
The audience applauded the performance, but Matthew suspected they felt much like he did at his tournaments. They were applauding the pending first pitches.
Jackson Hallion was sitting in the bleachers with Scott’s cousin, Ronnie. Larry, Nolan’s father, Paul, and Mac’s father, Arnie, were sitting in the same row of the bleachers. Jackson noted that Michael Meijer and two other boys were sitting behind him, which caused his heart to flutter, not only because of his amazing talent on the stage, but also because he was Matthew’s brother. Jackson wasn’t sure who the two other boys were, although he heard Michael address one as Alex. Jackson’s mother was sitting a couple of rows away with a couple of other team mothers as well as Mrs. Emerson, who was Skip’s grandmother as well as the bus driver.
After the anthems, the Tucson players took the field and pitcher Milo Perkins threw the first of his eight allotted warmup pitches. And just like that, home plate umpire Marc Haskins was pointing to the pitcher and calling out, “Play ball!” Gordy, who was playing shortstop and batting leadoff for the Goats, came to the plate ready to hit. Coach Hallion was coaching third and Kevin, who had flown in the night before, was coaching first. Larry offered to scout the Torrance/Las Vegas game, but James wouldn’t hear of it.
“Watching your son comes first,” James had said. “Besides, you’re the one who told me that a scouting report based on a single game doesn’t give a very accurate picture, especially on kids this age. Have fun watching Aiden.” The Goats would be playing either the Torrance Bulldogs or the Las Vegas All-Star Royals in their next game depending on who won and lost Games 1 and 2.
“Okay, Gordy, get us started!” Aiden yelled from the on-deck circle as Gordy dug in to hit.
Milo started the game with a called strike. He missed on the next two and Gordy made solid contact on the 2-1 pitch and lined it to the left of the shortstop, who made an off-balance lunge and had the ball stick right into his glove.
“Nice try, Gordy,” Aiden called out and Gordy heard similar praise as he entered the Goat’s dugout.
Aiden didn’t fare much better as he turned on a 1-1 pitch and hit a hard line drive to left center that the center fielder ran down for a great running catch.
Trent rapped a hard ground ball on a 2-0 pitch that looked like it was going to go into center field for a hit. Instead, Paulo Escobar, the shortstop, was once again a factor as he turned to his left, took four steps, grabbed the ball on the first hop and fired a bullet to first for the third out.
Milo had thrown a 1-2-3 inning on just ten pitches. Bob Offerman, the Tucson coach, was pleased with the first inning. He considered Milo to be his number three pitcher, but decided to have him open the tournament since Mayfield was reputed to not have a very good team.
“Hey, we hit the ball hard all three times,” Mac said as the team got ready to run onto the field. “Those will start to drop real soon.”
Things didn’t go quite as well for Trent. He had Ken, the leadoff hitter, down 1-2 when Ken reached for a pitch that was just outside and popped the ball up into shallow right field. Aiden ran out for it as Grant came in from right and Riley from center. None of the three could reach the ball as it dropped into no-man’s land for a single.
Paulo batted next and hit a soft line drive that went just over Gordy’s head. He leaped for the ball but just missed it. That put runners on first and second.
Zach, the first baseman, followed. He hit a hard grounder to Aiden that had double play written all over it and Aiden knew it. He was overeager, however, and fumbled the ball as he tried to come up for the throw before he had control of it. The result was an error and the bases loaded with nobody out.
“That’s okay, Aiden, you’ll get the next one,” Mac shouted. He held up a closed fist and reminded the team that there were no outs. “Grounder comes home.” He looked to the dugout to see if Coach Hallion was going to call for infield to play in, but he instructed them to play their regular distance back.
That brought up third baseman Abe Mann, the cleanup hitter. Trent, who was a little rattled, fell behind 3-0, but battled back to get a 3-2 count. Abe fouled off a curve and then Trent fired a beautiful fast ball on the outside corner, which the umpire called ball four. The walk forced in Ken with the first run. Mac held the ball for a moment to silently indicate his displeasure and then asked the ump for time, which was granted as soon as the batter had reached first and the other runners had reached their next base. The Sun Kings had a 1-0 lead.
Mac trotted to the mound and handed Trent the ball. Eric hopped out of the dugout to join Mac at the pitcher’s mound. The umpire was happy that the catcher and the coach went to the mound. He did not want to have to deal with an argument on the close call.
“You’re doing fine, Trent,” Eric said. “They haven’t hit the ball hard yet. Let’s give this next hitter some smoke to think about and get the first out.” He patted Trent on the rear and headed back to the dugout.
“You’re better than these guys,” Mac told Trent. “Let’s show them who you are.”
Trevor, the DH, caught a break when he barely got a piece of a 1-2 pitch and hit a squibber up the third base line which died before anybody could get to it for an infield single. All the runners moved up a base as Paulo scored from third, and the score was now 2-0. The Sun Kings had yet to hit the ball hard.
Trent struck out Spencer for the first out of the inning. Jerry, the catcher and the number seven hitter, lofted a deep fly to left on a 3-2 pitch that Riley had to back up on to catch. As soon as Riley caught it, he fired to Gordy. He heard Mac yell, “Third, third, third!” He pivoted and threw hard to Scott at third, but the tag wasn’t in time to get the out. Zach scored, giving Tucson a 3-0 lead.
Trent then walked Danny, the left fielder, on a 3-1 pitch. After the base on balls, Trent struck out Hank to end the inning. While the 3-0 score was bad enough, it had been a long stint for Trent, who had thrown over 20 pitches that inning. As Trent and Mac walked off the field together, Trent said, “I threw a lot of pitches. I’m not gonna be in the game for long if that keeps up.”
“Don’t worry about your pitch count,” Mac responded. “Just do what you do best and let it take care of itself.” That was a piece of wisdom he’d acquired from Kevin, who’d told him to tell his pitchers that it wasn’t their job to count pitches; their job was to throw them.
Muddy led off the second inning for the Goats. He was so determined to get something going that he got overanxious. After taking a ball in the dirt he flailed away at three pitches out of the strike zone.
“#33. Babik. DH. big kid. no plate discipline. throw outside make him go fishing,” wrote the Little League coach who was scouting for Torrance.
Scott came up next. While Scott didn’t have the power and overall talent of Muddy, he was a better hitter. He let two outside pitches go by as the Tucson pitcher and catcher decided to see if Scott was as wild at the plate as Muddy had been. Milo, the pitcher, threw a fastball without much on it over the heart of the plate which Scott lined into left field for a single.
“Way to go Scott, way to get us started,” Aiden yelled out along with the yelling from his teammates.
The single netted the Goats nothing, however. Mac hit a ball to left even harder than Scott, but the left fielder didn’t have to move to catch the line drive. Miles followed that with a hard grounder to Paulo at short. Paulo fielded the ball cleanly and went the short way to Hank at second for the force and the third out of the inning. The game went into the bottom of the second with the Goats still trailing 3-0.
“We’re hammering the ball and getting nothing for it,” Mac’s father, Arnie, said to Jackson, who was sitting next to him.
“They’ll start falling in. I think there’s no doubt we’re the better team,” Jackson said.
The balls were dropping in, just not for the Goats. The Sun Kings had the top of the order up again and Ken looped a soft single on the first pitch just out of the reach of Gordy for his second hit of the game. That was followed by a ringing double by Paulo on a 2-1 pitch off a frustrated Trent, scoring Ken for a 4-0 lead. That was the hardest hit by the Tucson team. Trent and Mac both thought the first ball had been a strike.
Coach Hallion asked for a timeout and headed to the mound to calm his son and ace pitcher. Mac was at the mound well ahead of the coach. “You should have let me do it to you last night,” Mac said as he tried to loosen Trent up a little. He didn’t succeed.
“Then how about you doing me right here on the fucking mound,” Trent growled sarcastically.
Coach Hallion saw the byplay between Mac and Trent. He didn’t know what had been said, but he could see that the exchange hadn’t been a pleasant one. “Okay, guys let’s forget the personal stuff and get focused on what we need to do here in order for us to stay in this game,” Coach Hallion said sternly. “They have the 3-4-5 hitters coming up and we need to be as tough as we can be. Trent, that was their first long hit off of you; now you need to show them it will also be their last one. I’m going to have Lance warm up since Trent already has thrown a ton of pitches.”
Coach Hallion had sent Lance and Lenny to the bullpen, which was located behind the dugout. Eric went along with them to supervise and to offer coaching suggestions. Lenny quickly put on his catching gear and got set to catch his twin brother’s warmup pitches.
Out on the field, Trent struck out Zach, the Sun King captain, on a 1-2 changeup that had the first baseman swinging wildly way ahead of the pitch. Abe, the cleanup hitter, then had an at bat that all but sealed Trent’s fate. With a 2-2 count, Abe fouled off four straight pitches before Trent threw ball three. He then fouled off three more before winning the duel when Trent threw a slider at the knees that the umpire called ball four. Mac held onto the ball for a few extra seconds to quietly show his displeasure before tossing it to Trent. Trent wanted to scream at the umpire, who he felt had taken a strikeout from him, but he took a deep breath and kept his cool.
Trent’s pitch count was up to where Coach Hallion knew he would have to pull him if he wanted to be able to use him again by Saturday. His pitch count had made him ineligible for a game the next day. As he left the dugout, the coach called out Lance’s name, signaling to Eric that he would be entering the game.
“Good job, Trent,” the coach told his son and ace pitcher as he held out his hand for the ball.
“They only hit me hard once and that ball four was strike three.” Trent knew better than to offer any further excuses and reluctantly dropped the ball into his coach’s open hand. As far as he was concerned, during a game the man named James Hallion was his coach ahead of being his father.
“If I want to use you again, I need to take you out now.”
Trent nodded and traded a high five with Lance as the reliever arrived at the mound. He was replacing Grant, who was playing right field, in the lineup. Even though he felt like crap because of how the game unfolded Trent held his head high.
“It was a tough day for your brother,” Larry said to Jackson. “He didn’t pitch badly, it’s just that everything they hit seemed to go where our fielders weren’t.”
“I know. I feel sorry for him and the Goats,” Jackson responded. “Didn’t some old-time player say to ‘Hit ‘em where they ain’t?’”.
“That would be Wee Willie Keeler. I’m impressed you know that quote.”
“I like reading about baseball history. So does Trent. We both have the game in our blood.”
“I’ve been asked by Matthew, the kid who sang the anthem, if I’d watch his game this afternoon. Marty Carlson might join us. Would you be interested in coming along?”
“And meet Marty Carlson? I’d love to come.”
“You could miss your brother’s game if they play in the afternoon.”
“He’ll forgive me, I’m sure,” Jackson grinned.
Jackson looked over to Ronnie, wondering how much he had heard. Apparently, he’d caught none of it as he busied himself getting to know the boys behind him.
Down on the field, Coach Hallion was busily juggling his players around the field. “Trent, take third base and tell Scott to play right field,” Coach Hallion told him. He planned on doing more shifting between innings—right now he wanted to keep the process simple because he planned on having Riley get ready to pitch the third if needed. The sparse Mayfield crowd yelled words of encouragement accompanied by applause as Trent moved over to third. They knew Trent had pitched better than the results showed.
The Torrance scout, who was sitting in the first base bleachers, wrote the following in his notebook: #20. Hallion. Starting pitcher. Good stuff but seems to lack confidence making him inconsistent. Wait him out and he’ll either throw something good to hit or issue a walk.
Jaden’s mother, Marlene, who was Grant’s aunt, sat in the section to the boys’ right with her sister-in-law, Carla , Rita Emerson, who was the team’s bus driver as well as Skip’s grandmother, and Martha Hallion, who was Coach Hallion’s wife. Carla had arrived in San Marco the night before. Grant’s father would fly down Friday night, albeit too late to attend the Mariner/Angel game.
When Jaden had talked to his cousin Grant, he had noted Grant’s optimism that the Yard Goats would field a competitive team in the tournament no matter what the prevailing opinion happened to be. That didn’t seem to be the case in this game.
“Damn, these guys have gotta come alive really soon,” Alex said. “I was around these guys long enough to know they don’t give up.”
“That’s exactly what I learned when I went up there to visit Grant,” Jaden said.
After Lance, who had not expected to play this early in the game, finished his warmups, he got a pat on the ass from Mac, who could see how nervous the young pitcher was. This was unquestionably Lance’s toughest spot all season. “Throw strikes and show them what the Goats are about,” Mac said as he turned and headed for the plate. Coach Hallion told Lance that sounded like sound advice and then returned to the dugout.
The umpire informed Lance that there were runners on first and second with one out and then set up behind the plate. The first batter Lance had to face was Trevor Sullivan, the designated hitter.
Lance threw his first pitch for a strike, earning him approving chatter from the Goats on the field. His second pitch was a fast ball that Trevor got a piece of, hitting a soft popup that sailed over first out of Max’s reach. It came down right on the foul line and scooted off into foul territory. The umpire immediately indicated that it was a fair ball.
Paulo, the runner on second, took off for third and Abe hustled to second. Max turned to chase down the ball. Scott, who rarely played the outfield, was now in right. As soon as he set up in the field, Larry had instructed him to move a few steps to his left. He and Max both took off after the ball which had bounced off the fence and was rolling to a stop. By the time Scott got to the ball, Paulo and Abe had scored and Trevor was sliding into second with a bloop double that somehow scored two runs. The Sun Kings now led 6-0 against the stunned Goats who were being nickeled and dimed to death by the team from Arizona. Trevor jumped to his feet and stood on second, smiling and clapping his hands as he celebrated his fluke double.
Lance stood on the mound in a state of shock. Even though he had thrown two good pitches, he had let Trent and his teammates down by allowing his two inherited runners to score. And now there was a runner on. Trent had struck the lefty out in the first inning. Lance’s confidence was so low that he walked Spencer on four pitches, not one of which had been close to a strike.
After the walk, Mac asked for time and went out to try to settle Lance down. Coach Hallion had given Eric, as pitching coach, free rein to initiate or join a mound conference. Eric started for the dugout steps so he could join the conference, but Kevin placed a hand on his shoulder to stop him. “Give Mac a chance to be a catcher and a leader,” Kevin told his friend, fellow coach, and teammate in high school. Coach Hallion came over but said nothing, his silence giving tacit approval to Kevin’s suggestion. The Goats had now used up three of their allotted five mound visits (mound visits resulting in a pitching change did not count against the five visits).
Lance had been in three similar situations for the Goats, allowing only one inherited runner to score. Mac reminded him of that.
“That hit off you was the same bullshit hitting they’ve done all game. You pitched good to that lucky bastard,” Mac said. “Now, quit feeling sorry for yourself, stand up for your teammates and get these next two guys out. Throw this asshole at the plate your best fastball to show him you’re ready to challenge him. He flied out the first inning, so he’s human. And, for fuck’s sake, don’t overthrow.” He stared directly at Lance, who nodded, and then headed back to home plate.
During the mound visit, Bob Offerman, the Tucson coach called Jerry, the next batter, over to the dugout. “The kid’s out of control wild, so make him throw a strike,” the coach instructed. Jerry nodded and returned to the on-deck circle.
The coach turned to his number one assistant and said, “It would be nice to get a couple more runs so we can shut down this game early.” The tournament had an eight-run rule after five or more innings instead of the standard ten. The ten-run rule would apply to the championship game, however. “No matter what, the third will be Milo’s last inning. I’m going to replace him with Ollie in the fourth.”
“Milo’s pitching awfully well,” the assistant said. “And Ollie being a pickup pitcher, we don’t know what to expect. Besides, why waste a pickup on a one-sided win.”
“Because I don’t want to waste one of my regulars who I know, in a one-sided win,” Coach Offerman countered.
Mac had returned to home plate and the umpire was ready to put the ball into play. This hadn’t been the first time Lance had had his ass reamed by a catcher; his twin brother Lenny was not afraid to get in his face. Lance fought a grin when his next thought was that Lenny could learn a few things about ass chewing from Mac. Lance looked in for the sign, received the expected fastball sign, and the added indication from Mac to throw it on the inside corner to the Tucson batter.
The batter was Jerry, the catcher. He backed away from the pitch and took it for a strike, much to the frustration of his coach. He fouled off the next pitch to make the count 0-2. Mac signaled for an outside fast ball off the plate to try to entice the batter to fish for it. Lance wanted to shake Mac off so he could blow a fastball by the batter for strike three. But he knew that a waste pitch on an 0-2 count was a common practice, and he did as instructed by his catcher. Jerry wasn’t fooled and the count was 1-2.
The pitch did set up his next pitch, however. It was a curve ball that looked outside but broke over the outside corner for a called strike three. Lance felt his confidence return after getting the strikeout. Trent was surprised the umpire had called the strike, considering the number of pitches he’d missed while he was pitching.
The soft hitting Sun King offense came through yet again when Danny, the number eight hitter, lofted a soft fly ball to left that Gordy barely missed catching. Gordy picked it up right away and turned to check the runner who had been on second and was pleased to see the third base coach give him the stop sign. Tucson now had runners on first and third with two outs and Hank, their number nine hitter, at the plate.
Hank was an important out. None of the Goats wanted to see the top of the Sun King lineup with a threat brewing. They got their wish as the Sun Kings got hit by the kind of luck that the Goats had been having at the plate. Hank wasn’t a very good hitter, but he lit into Lance’s fastball, a mistake pitch that came in high in the strike zone. The King’s bench leaped to their feet when they saw and heard Hank’s hard line drive to left. The ball looked like it would go over Trent’s head, but Trent timed his leap perfectly and the athletic third baseman snagged it in the webbing of his glove. He came down on his butt but held the ball up high in his throwing hand to show that he had caught it. The base umpire called Hank out to end the inning.
The score after two innings was Sun Kings 6 and Yard Goats 0. Skip almost went into shock when Coach Hallion told him he should grab his bat and warm up outside of the dugout since he would be pinch-hitting for Riley.
“Me?” Skip asked. He wasn’t sure he had heard right.
“You are Skip Emerson, right?” Coach Hallion asked with a blend of sternness and gentle humor.
“Yeah,” Skip answered uncertainly.
“Good. I know you’re new to the team, but I didn’t think I forgot who you were. Now get yourself ready to hit after Max.” Skip was called on to pinch hit because Riley would be warming up in the bullpen to pitch the bottom of the third and Coach Hallion didn’t want to use up one of his better bench players to pinch hit early in the game.
Skip stood on the dugout steps waiting for Ollie, the Tucson pitcher, to finish his eight warmup pitches. At that point, the umpire would call for the batter and Max would leave the on-deck circle for the left-handed batter’s box and Skip could leave the dugout to take his place in the on-deck circle. Aiden walked up to Skip, who was a step above the floor, and gave him a pat on the butt. “Hey, Skipper, you can do it,” Aiden said. “You’re the best. And remember, the same thing is true here as it was on the Explorers, ‘See the ball, hit the ball.’”
“Got it,” Skip grinned as Aiden sat on the bench.
Meanwhile, in the bleachers, Jackson saw that Matthew had taken a seat behind him in the bleachers. Since one of his goals on the trip was to meet Matthew, he figured this was as good a time as any. He turned around and said, “Hey,” momentarily startling Matthew.
“Hi,” Matthew replied. The two teens were soon talking as if they were old friends.
The umpire called for the batter, and Max, the Goats’ number eight hitter, took his spot at the plate and dug in for the first pitch. He had said confidently when he started out of the dugout for the on-deck circle he would get something going. What he got going was a lot of hot air as he swung and missed three times on three pitches.
Skip stepped up to the plate with his heart thumping. He took a deep breath to help calm himself down as Coach Hallion told the umpire that Emerson was batting for Newton. Skip knew that he could hit; he had been the leading hitter on the Mayfield Explorers, his eleven and under team. But this was a whole new level of baseball. “See the ball, hit the ball,” Skip said to himself as he took another deep breath.
The first pitch was high for ball one. Skip fouled the next pitch back. It had been an outside pitch and he had been too eager.
“Come on, Ralphie, you can do it,” he heard a voice call out from the third base bleachers. The “Ralphie” let him know it was his grandma Rita yelling encouragement. Her cheering always made him feel good.
Skip then took another deep breath and saw the next pitch perfectly; it was a fastball where he liked it and he took a smooth swing and rapped a hard ground ball between the first and second basemen for his first Goat hit. He hustled to first and reveled in the cheers from the dugout and the loud “I knew you could do it, Ralphie,” Grandma Rita called out.
As this was going on, a friend of some of the Torrance players had come over to Field 2 to check the score. When he saw the Yard Goats were trailing 6-0 in the top of the third, he grinned. They were as bad as everybody said they were. ‘And what the fuck is a Yard Goat?’ he wondered as he sprinted back to Field 1 to report the score to his friends.
He went back to his seat two rows behind the Torrance dugout and yelled the score to Howie, who laughed as he told the players in the dugout.
“What a bunch of losers,” Maury said. “I was hoping we’d play them so we could give them a taste of no-mercy, but it looks like they’re already getting it.” The Torrance Bulldogs were leading Las Vegas 7-1 in the third. That was all that could be shared as the half inning ended and the Torrance players sauntered out to their positions.
On Field 2 Gordy was at bat. He hit a 2-1 pitch hard to shortstop for the second out as yet another well hit ball went for naught. The out brought Aiden to the plate.
While in the on-deck circle, Aiden had noted that Ollie didn’t look much better than the pitchers he saw in the Southwest League at home. The problem the Goats were having was that they kept hitting “at ‘em balls” (hard hit balls going directly into their opponent’s gloves) rather than succumbing to the skills of the pitchers. As Aiden got set at the plate, he decided that if the first pitch was a strike he was going to go after it.
The first pitch was a strike, and he went after it hitting as hard as he could hit a ball. Nobody got their glove in the way of this one as Aiden hit it into the left center field gap where nobody could reach it. The left and center fielders went after it and watched it drop short of the fence, hitting it on one bounce.
As he had been taught, Skip went half-way between first and second base until he was certain the ball wouldn’t be caught. It didn’t take him long to determine the ball was over the fielders’ heads and he took off for second and then ran like hell for third. He saw Coach Hallion waving him home and yelling, “Go! Go! Go hard! Go!” and Skip fired his afterburners. As he came roaring into home he saw Trent, the on-deck hitter, signaling him to stand up. The newest Goat scored the Goats’ first run of the tournament. Aiden slid into third, beating the throw from the leftfielder, with a run scoring triple.
Unfortunately, that ended the rally as Trent hit a fly ball to deep center field, but he had too much air under it. The centerfielder was playing him deep and caught the high fly ball a few steps short of the center field fence ending the inning.
The Goats trailed 6-1 going into the bottom of the third. Riley headed to the mound to pitch the third and Coach Hallion walked up to the umpire to give him the changes. “I’m reentering Newton for Emerson.” Hallion had told his players what the changes in the field in the bottom of the inning would be while the Goats were batting. Lance was going to move to right field, Scott was changing to shortstop, and Gordy was going out to center field. He didn’t have to report those changes to the umpire since they did not affect the batting order.
The Tucson players in the dugout commented about Riley’s small stature. “I can’t figure out how a team of elementary school kids thought they were going to win a game in this tournament,” Danny told Milo.
“Yeah, they’re not going to win any games, but I like those dudes. I kinda wish they could beat somebody as long as it isn’t us,” Milo responded.
“Maybe they will in the consolation tournament. Didn’t some old-time baseball player or somebody say ‘Nice guys finish last?’”
“Yep, and that describes those Goats. But I plan to be extra nice to them when we see them at the resort.”
The first batter Riley would be facing was Ken, the leadoff batter, who was 2-for-2 with two runs scored. He quickly made it 3-for-3 when he hit a bouncer on Riley’s first pitch that Scott was able to field. He turned and threw to Max at first, but his throw was too late to catch the speedy batter. Right away, Riley could feel the same frustrations Trent and Lance had felt.
The next batter was Paulo, the shortstop. Like Ken, Paulo was a speedster. But on Riley’s third pitch, the Goats looked like the real Goats in the field. Paulo hit a sharp grounder to Scott, who fed it to Aiden at second. Aiden made a perfect pivot and fired the ball to first to nail Paulo by half a step. The perfectly executed double play brought a cheer from the Mayfield dugout and from the Mayfield fans in the bleachers. Riley pointed to Scott and Aiden, giving each of them a salute.
But Tucson wasn’t finished creating trouble. Zach, the first baseman, pulled a 2-0 pitch up the right field line. Great hustle by Lance in right saw him get to the ball quickly. Even so, he fired it in to Aiden too late to get Zach sliding into second, but the hustle by Lance kept Zach from stretching the hit to a triple.
As the action unfolded, Ollie sulked as he sat on the bench. He was upset at being used as a reliever in a game that was all but won. The Sun Kings had chosen him as one of their two pickup pitchers and this was how they were using him? As a mop up man? The move made him feel unappreciated.
The next batter was Abe, the cleanup hitter. The big third baseman gave Riley a look that said, ‘Be careful little boy because I could come close to knocking your head off when I get hold of one of your weenie ass pitches.’
Riley threw Abe a fastball that wasn’t all that fast, but it had a lot of movement to it. The best Abe could do was foul it back. Riley’s next pitch was a curve that just missed the plate. Next came another fastball that Abe drove deep to left field. It was hammered. All Riley could do was turn and look and wonder how far out of the ballfield it would land. It cleared the fence by four feet, but it was also left of the foul pole, making it a foul ball. It was the hardest hit ball of the game but was nothing more than a long strike.
Riley then threw Abe a changeup. Changeup was almost an oxymoron considering how slow his fastball was, but the slow pitch was way slower than Riley’s fastball. Abe was so flummoxed by a pitch he would have hammered when he was in fourth grade that he was barely able to get a piece of it for a foul ball.
The count was 1-2 and all Abe could think was that if that was the best stuff that pitcher could throw then he should be able to hammer it. What Abe, or none of the Tucson players knew, was that Riley hadn’t shown off his best stuff yet. After throwing a curve that broke outside the plate, Riley was ready to throw his best.
When Mac signaled for a fastball, he had a pretty good idea what was coming. Riley came set in his stretch and then reached back and put something extra on his fastball. Abe was ready for one of Riley’s regular fastballs. Instead, he got a fastball that came in harder than anything Riley had thrown so far. The pitch dipped as it reached the plate and Abe swung late and over the top of it, missing it entirely. The players in the Goats dugout immediately shot their fists in the air and screamed their approval.
Abe looked at his bat like it had disobeyed his commands, and then turned to Mac. “Where the fuck did that come from?” he asked the Goat catcher.
“The little dude has a few surprises in his arsenal,” Mac grinned.
“Tell me about it—or better yet, don’t tell me about it,” Abe grunted as he hauled his bat to his dugout. He was beyond pissed—that little shit of a pitcher had made him look bad and, worse, his strikeout had retired the side and left a critical run stranded in scoring position.
His teammates asked Abe questions in the same vein he had asked Mac. “What the fuck was that?” “No way that little shit could throw that.” “Fucking lucky pitch. If he could really throw it he’d use it all the time.”
Riley headed for the Goat dugout exchanging fist bumps and high fives with his teammates. Riley would have thrown his best fastball earlier, but Eric had told him that he and Coach Hallion wanted him to pace himself since he might be seeing a lot of action in the tournament.
“Use it when you really need it,” Eric had advised, and Riley and Mac took it to heart. Riley and Mac thought it was time to use it on the Sun King cleanup hitter. Even though the Goats were down by five runs, they felt they were still in the game. After all, they’d come back all season long and this wasn’t one of the California powerhouses they were facing.
The first batter Ollie had to face in the top of the fourth was the Goats’ cleanup hitter—Muddy. Kevin had told Muddy to be more disciplined at the plate this at bat. “Three wild swings in your last at bat netted you nothing but empty air,” Kevin had reminded him. Muddy nodded and carried the advice with him to the plate. He felt the Kings’ reliever wasn’t as good a pitcher as Milo, the starter. He knew he had swung as hard as he could in his first at bat and as a result he had lost control. This time he let a low breaking pitch go by before unleashing his best swing on a mediocre fastball. He could tell he had hit the ball perfectly and grinned as he watched its flight over the left field fence as he ran to first. Ollie kicked at the dirt on the mound as he watched the ball leave the field. He felt it was hard to pitch his best when the team’s coaches didn’t appreciate him.
The home run was a good start to the fourth and brought the Goats to within four runs of the Stars. Things unfolded quickly after Muddy’s drive. Scott followed it up with a double and Mac drove him in with a solid single making the score 6-3. A single by Miles put runners on first and second. Coach Offerman, the Tucson coach, told Percy, one of his best relievers to warm up. Ollie was obviously struggling. The coach asked for time and came out to talk to Ollie and to give Percy more time to warm up.
Ollie then struck out Max. That brought Riley to the plate. Riley was a good hitter even though he had little power because of his size. But he was a smart hitter and baserunner and knew how to play smallball. Riley was as much a student of the game as anyone on the team.
Coach Offerman had made up his mind that Riley would be Ollie’s last batter, no matter how the at bat played out. He regretted not making the change earlier when Riley hit a low line drive up the left field line and into the corner. The left fielder had been playing Riley shallow and by the time he got to the ball, Riley was flying into second. The Goat’s bench went wild as Mac and Miles scored, making the score 6-5. Riley stood on second base clapping his hands with excitement.
“Holy shit, can you believe it? We’re right in this game,” Alex crowed.
“Grant was right—these Goats don’t quit. Instead, they butt you right in the ass,” Jaden chuckled.
But the action wasn’t over because the left fielder fumbled the ball for a moment as he ran up to it. Thinking the fielder still didn’t have the ball, Riley took off for third. Coach Hallion, seeing that the fielder had gained control quickly, put up his hands trying to stop Riley, but he was too late. Riley had built up a big head of steam and was half-way to third. He had no choice but to keep going. The left fielder made a great throw that went right into the third baseman’s glove, which he got down for the tag on Riley’s right foot just before it hit the bag. The umpire was right on top of the play and made the correct call: “OOOUUUUUUUUUUT!” There were now two outs in the inning.
“Great hit and great hustle,” Coach Hallion said as Riley jumped to his feet and headed to the dugout. Riley did get credit for a double and two runs batted in and received a lot of pats on the back and ass along with a slew of high fives despite the out. Riley had taken a good gamble and it had almost paid off.
Before the dust had a chance to settle, Coach Offerman was on the mound signaling for Percy to come in to pitch. He held out his hand for the ball trying to think of something encouraging to say to the pickup pitcher he didn’t know as well as he should. But when Ollie looked at him like he was a turd a dog had left on the mound, the coach mumbled, “Get ‘em next time,” as the pitcher stomped off the mound, not even waiting for his replacement as baseball etiquette dictated.
The first batter Percy faced was Gordy, who fouled off a couple of 2-2 pitches before popping out to the second baseman to end the inning. As he headed for his dugout he grinned when he heard Spencer running past him yelling, “Okay guys, they’ve had their fun. Now it’s time to take over the game.”
Just before Riley threw the first pitch of the bottom of the fourth, the Torrance fan arrived at Field 2 eager to see how big the Tucson lead was. He entered the stands and walked up to the backstop to garner a quick look at the score. His mouth dropped in shock when he saw that the Mayfield team was now only one-run down. ‘How did those little bozos manage that?’ he wondered. He returned to Field 1, deciding on the way not to call out the score to the Bulldogs. He got his smile back, however, when he saw that the Dogs now had a 10-1 lead over Las Vegas going into the fifth inning. He noticed that the Dogs had four substitutes on the field. This was not what his friends on the team called a “no-mercy” game. It was all but over, even with the subs playing.
Riley was on top of his game in the bottom of the inning. He had never felt so confident and comfortable on the pitching mound. He pitched a 1-2-3 inning, retiring the side on eight pitches, four of which went into striking out Jerry the catcher.
Percy was just as sharp in the top of the fifth, pitching a 1-2-3 inning of his own, striking out Trent and Muddy in the process. Even though the eight and nine hitters would be leading off the bottom of the fifth, Percy and his teammates shouted encouragement.
All of them except Zach ignored Ollie, who was sitting on the outfield end of the bench feeling sorry for himself. Zach, who was the team captain, walked up to Ollie and got right into his face. “Either quit feeling sorry for yourself and cheer on your teammates or move your sorry ass into the bleachers somewhere.” He turned and stepped away, not waiting for a reply. Ollie’s choice was obvious: either he joined the team now or it would be a long four days in isolation for him.
Ollie, who was a decent kid who didn’t always handle adversity well, stood up. “Sorry, guys.” He looked out on the field where Danny was in the on-deck circle waiting to lead off the inning. “Get us started, Danny.” He sat back down and felt Zach’s hand on his shoulder.
“Good job, dude,” the team captain said. “You are starting to be serious about being a member of the Sun Kings.”
Danny got things off to a good start with a single to left. Hank then hit a one-hopper back to Riley, who pivoted and threw the ball to Scott for a force at second. Scott then completed the easy 1-6-3 double play by throwing Hank out at first by six steps.
Coach Hallion then came out to replace Riley with Grant. He had told Riley he would be coming out after two batters to keep his pitch count down below 30. “Foster for Lenny Hazen,” he announced to the umpire as Grant replaced Lance, who was playing right field, in the lineup. Hallion sent Riley to left field and moved Miles to right field.
Grant heard fans in the bleachers shouting his name. He was certain one of them was Alex and was tempted to look over to see who the others were, but decided the best thing he could do was concentrate on his pitching and give them more to cheer about.
Grant would be facing Ken, the leadoff batter who was 3-for-3 for the game. After flying out to Miles in right on a 2-2 pitch he was 3-for-4, and the fifth inning was over with the Sun Kings still clinging to their 6-5 lead. The constant cheering in the bleachers was a factor in Grant upping his game.
Coach Offerman decided to stick with Percy for one more inning and then bring in Danny, his closer. He substituted for Danny, however, to have him warm up if Percy got into trouble. Percy didn’t need any help as he once again put the Goats down in order, getting Scott to fly out to center before striking out Mac and Miles. Percy had put down all seven batters he’d faced, striking out four of them.
Coach Hallion made a change in the field, sending Mason in for Miles in right. Coach Hallion wanted to get Mason into the game. Since he was an outstanding fielder, the coach had no problem sending him into the field; plus, he could always re-enter Miles for him if his bat ended up being needed.
Grant pitched a scoreless inning, although he wasn’t as dominant as Percy had been for the Sun Kings. He gave up a one-out single to Zach and didn’t strike out anyone.
The game was now in crunch time for the Goats. Danny, the Kings’ closer, re-entered the game for Terry, who had substituted for him the previous inning, and took the mound. Coach Hallion told Lenny he would be batting for Max, who was warming up in the bullpen area in case the Goats took the lead or tied the game. He told Emmett he would be batting for Riley, who was slated to be the second batter in the inning. Emmett and Riley were close in ability and Emmett was the only regular player who hadn’t been in the game. He went out to the on-deck circle to bat after Lenny.
Kevin put on his catching gear, which he had brought just for instances like this and went to the bullpen to catch Max. Since Lenny was batting, Muddy could have caught Max, but Coach Hallion wanted to keep him fresh in case his turn at the plate came up. Since Muddy was slated to bat sixth in the inning for the Goats it was possible, if unlikely, that his turn would come up.
Unlike Percy, Danny rarely pitched more than one inning. Like Max, Danny could dominate an inning but would often poop out if called upon to pitch more. Being the closer was the ideal role for him.
“Didn’t you just pitch a couple of innings ago?” the home plate umpire asked Lenny when he saw him in the on-deck circle.
“That was my twin brother, Lance. Coach Hallion should have told you that I’m Lenny.”
“Ahh, the good old twin brother trick.”
“Nah, I’m the boss twin because I am a catcher and Lance is a pussy because he pitches. Plus, I’m older.”
“That works for me.” The ump had been having a bit of fun with Lenny, which Lenny knew from the grin on the ump’s face. The umpire put on his helmet and mask, took his place behind the catcher and called, “Batter!” Lenny took his place in the right-handed batter’s box and turned his concentration on the pitcher. He proceeded to hit a low line drive on a 1-0 pitch that Paulo snagged at his shoe tops. The King’s bench and fans cheered and the players on the field chatted up their encouragement. Tucson was two outs away from starting out the tournament with a win.
Emmett came to the plate. “Haskins for Newton,” Coach Hallion barked out. The plate umpire noted the change and then called, “Play Ball.” On Danny’s second pitch, Emmett hit a hard ground ball that looked like it was going to go up the middle for a base hit. But Paulo crossed over to his left, picked the ball in the web of his glove, and threw Emmett out by less than a step. Paulo was putting on a clinic with his glove and Mayfield was one out away from being in the losers’ bracket.
With two outs and nobody on for the Goats, the Tucson dugout was almost festive. The game looked to be over. But Gordy, who was hitless so far in the game, had other ideas.
Danny quickly got ahead 0-2, but Gordy, who was probably the most disciplined hitter on the team, wouldn’t bite at an outside fastball nor at a breaking ball in the dirt. He did go after the 2-2 strike, however, and laced a single to left field. The Goats still had life.
The hollering and encouragement from the Goat dugout grew as Aiden stepped to the plate. The East Harbor contingent in the bleachers was screaming its lungs out. Aiden didn’t mess around and went right after the first pitch, singling to center to put runners on first and second with two out. Aiden represented the go ahead run. Between innings Kevin had pointed out to Coach Hallion that the Kings weren’t paying close attention to the runners. Kevin wasn’t impressed by the work of Jerry behind the plate.
Trent was the next hitter and Danny fell behind 2-1. Jackson was on his feet screaming encouragement to his brother and to the Goats. Scott’s cousin Ronnie was equally enthusiastic.
Coach Hallion could clearly see that Kevin was right, neither the pitcher nor the catcher was paying close attention to the runners even though they represented the tying and go ahead runs. Coach Hallion surprised Gordy and Aiden by flashing the steal sign, and they took off on the pitch. Jerry heard Hank call out from second that the runners were going. As soon as he caught the pitch, he fired down to third. His throw was in time to nail Gordy if it had been a good throw. Instead of going into the third baseman’s glove, it sailed over his head into left field and brought the Mayfield crowd to its feet with a roar.
Gordy scrambled to his feet and took off for home. By the time the left fielder got the ball Gordy was almost home. The left fielder could see he didn’t have a play and smartly threw the ball to third to keep the go-ahead run at second base. The double steal had worked to perfection. The Goats had tied the score and the Mayfield bench and fans were going crazy with excitement.
“Holy double shit, I don’t believe this!” Alex said. “These dudes are the Go-Go Goats.”
“I think it’s all about Tuesday’s cookies,” Jaden grinned. “It’s giving them extra bursts of energy even two days later.”
The pitch the steal took place on had been called a strike. The plate ump flashed the 2-2 count to the fielders with his fingers.
Most of the Torrance players had come over to Field 2 and taken seats in the third base bleachers. They had won 11-3 over Las Vegas in a game that was called after five innings because of the run rule. Since their spy hadn’t reported the score after his second visit, the Bulldog players had come over to watch Tucson wrap up the game. Instead, they saw the tying run come home on a stolen base and an error and the potential go-ahead run end up on second.
Trent hadn’t had a good game at the plate and was 0-for-3, but he was smart enough to know that each at bat was a separate entity. As a result, he never dwelled on his previous at bats and put all his focus on the current at bat. Once again, his brother Jackson was on his feet going nuts. His focus was sharp enough see a fat pitch come in from Danny, who had been rattled by the turn of events. He slammed the ball to dead center which went over the center fielder’s head. Aiden stormed around the bases and scored the go ahead run standing up as Trent slid into second with a double. The Goats now had a 7-6 lead.
Muddy ended up batting after all, but he couldn’t knock Trent home as he grounded out hard to short to retire the side. Now it would be the Goats’ turn to hold onto a seventh inning lead.
Max re-entered the game, replacing Lenny. He would be facing the 6-7-8 hitters. The Goats’ infielders, with Scott at first, Aiden at second, Gordy at short, and Trent at third, were all pounding their gloves and talking it up as Spencer stepped into the batter’s box. The roar of the crowd was deafening as Max struck out Spencer on a 1-2 pitch, and then did the same to Jerry. Jerry had not had a good game. It was the third time he’d struck out, earning him a hat trick (three strike outs in a game), plus he had the throwing error on the double steal. Danny was the last hope for the Tucson Sun Kings. The entire crowd was on its feet as Max fell behind 2-1, but Danny ended the game by hitting a routine ground ball to Trent at third. He was out by six steps. As soon as the first base ump signaled the out, Mac sprinted to the mound and grabbed his pitcher in a bear hug as the already screaming Mayfield fans upped the volume even higher.
“We won, we won, we won!” Alex shouted; unaware he was totally identifying with the Mayfield nine. “Time to bake them more cookies!”
The Yard Goats on the field gathered in the infield and exchanged hugs and high fives as the players in the dugout ran out on the field to join them. Scott noticed the Sun Kings lining up in the handshake line and, with the help of Trent and Mac, got a return line formed. The sagging shoulders of the Tucson players said it all—a couple of them had not been able to hold back tears. It seemed like just a few minutes ago they had a 6-0 lead and just a few seconds ago that they were one out from winning the game, and then, just like that, they were in line congratulating the winners for their 7-6 win.
As the players exchanged handshakes, fist bumps, and high fives, the Torrance team put a damper on the proceedings by suddenly chanting, “No Mercy! No Mercy! No Mercy!” Maury, who had choreographed the chant, ended it by yelling out, “See you tomorrow, suckers!”
“You guys gotta beat those assholes,” Zach told the Mayfield players. His teammates agreed completely.
“Thanks Zach. And we’re rooting for you to beat those other desert dudes tonight,” Aiden said. The Tucson nine would be playing Las Vegas at seven that evening, with the loser dropping into the consolation tournament.
“Thanks. That’s our plan.”
Before heading to the bus, Aiden, Nolan, Gordy, Mason, and Cal hustled over to Field 7 where the Surrey Mounties were playing the Chula Vista All-Star Explorers. The games on Fields 5-8 started at 1:30, an hour later than the games on Fields 1-4, to keep all 16 teams from crowding into the Athletic Park at the same time. The five Goats wanted to see how their Canadian friends were faring.
The game was in the bottom of the fourth and was tied 2-2. “Dang, they’ve got a tight one going. Too bad we can’t hang around,” Nolan said.
“I don’t know about you, but even if we could stay and watch, I’m ready to get back to the hotel,” Gordy said. “We’ve got a meeting as soon as we get our gear put away and get changed into whatever and then, well, with an eight-thirty in the morning game, after that I just want to chill and pork out at dinner.”
“Agreed,” Aiden said. “That game took a lot out of us.”
“I wonder who’s going to be the starter tomorrow,” Mason said to no one in particular.
“If it was up to me, I’d start Nolan against those assholes. Let them see a power pitcher.”
“I dunno. I’d start you, Aiden,” Mason countered. “You can give them a lot of grief with all the stuff you throw up there.”
“So can Scott, and he’s older, stronger, and throws harder than I do,” Aiden said.
“We’ll be finding out in our meeting, I’m sure,” said Gordy, ever the practical one.
The chatter ended when players from the Vikings exited Field 3. The Goat players could see the score on the scoreboard reading Forest Grove 7, San Antonio 0. After seeing the score, the Goats figured the Viking players would be in a friendly mood. They were wrong on that note.
“Hey, guys, look, it’s the faggot lovers,” Vic Carpenter, one of the Vikings said.
“Faggot lovers, or faggots?” Gary Phelps sneered. “And, can you believe it? There’s the queer singer and horn player. The only reason they went on stage is because they, like, sucked the right dicks. They’re, like, not even close to as good as they think they are.”
“Hey, what’s your problem?” Nolan barked.
“Our problem? We ain’t got no problem—it’s you guys who’s got the problem. We saw you getting all into the concert last night and get a mention from the faggots in that loser of a band.”
Nolan took a step toward Gary, but Aiden grabbed his arm and stopped him. As much as Nolan wanted to punch out Gary’s lights, he knew Aiden was right; he had to back off.
“That’s it, turn around just like wussy gays everywhere.”
“You can kick his ass, Gary,” Spencer Howard said. “He deserves it for being on that team if nothing else.”
“But just so you know, I’ll tell you what the problem is,” Gary went on. “Michael, whatever his name is right now, is from Forest Grove, just like his homo brother. They got a history there and it ain’t a good one. You guys might have grooved on that band, but most of us Vikings did our best not to care. We were there cuz he had to be.”
Gary was interrupted when Eric rushed up. “Hey guys, it’s nice that you’re getting to know everyone, but there’s a busload of your teammates waiting for you. Let’s get going.” Eric obviously hadn’t heard any of the byplay between the two teams. The Goat players followed Eric to the gate while the Viking players stood saying nothing. It was one thing to shout insults at other players, it was another thing altogether to do it with a coach within hearing range.
“I’m sorry you had to restrain me in front of the team,” Nolan whispered to his boyfriend. “I apologize for the way I acted.”
“Don’t sweat it, Sugar Bear. It’s cool. And be proud you did the right thing and backed off.”
“Thanks. I don’t think I’ve ever been so pissed. Oh, well, don’t worry, I’ll be okay. I just hope we play them so we can kick their sorry asses.”
As they hustled to the bus, the five Goat players agreed not to mention anything to Eric about the incident, although Nolan was still seething over it. It was not because they wanted to keep the Forest Grove issue to themselves, it was the exact opposite; they wanted to bring it up at the team meeting figuring the entire team and coaching staff should be aware of the Vikings’ behavior.
They boarded the bus amid a lot of friendly razzing from their teammates regarding their tardiness. “You really don’t have to play in all of the games,” Mac said. “You can join the rest of us and sit by the pool and swim and eat.”
“I think they were perving over their Canadian crushes,” Trent added.
“Nah, they just wanted to avoid sitting through another team meeting,” Miles said.
“Hey, we’re only two minutes later than the time Coach gave us to be on the bus,” Aiden pointed out.
“Which, in Goat terms, is what Mrs. Streit would call infinitely late,” Grant said to the laughter of all. Mrs. Streit had been the seventh-grade algebra teacher and sixth-grade math teacher for many of the Goats. The noise then died down as the bus pulled out of the parking lot.
<Carlsbad Resort, Meeting Room A>
When the bus arrived at the resort, Coach Hallion instructed the players to put their gear in their rooms and meet in Meeting Room A in fifteen minutes. “I’ll try real hard to keep the meeting short so you boys can enjoy the pool until dinner.” One of the many things the boys liked about their coach was that he was good at keeping the team meetings short.
This time everyone was five minutes early, which translated to on time. After Coach Hallion got the team’s attention he congratulated the them on their “gutsy” comeback. “You boys simply don’t quit, an attitude that has served you well this season,” he told them. “The agenda for this meeting is to let you know who will be starting tomorrow, go over what little we know of the Torrance team, and let you know the schedule and rules for the evening.” The five boys who’d had the run-in with the Forest Grove team knew there would be one more item on the meeting agenda. They’d agreed amongst themselves to not bring it up until Coach Hallion had finished his part of the meeting.
“Tomorrow morning’s starting pitcher will be Aiden,” the coach began. Everyone had shifted their eyes to Nolan, figuring he would get the nod against the team that was rated by most of those following the BaseBrawl as one of the three best teams in the tournament, if not the best.
It was all Aiden could do not to cry out, “ME?” the way Skip had done when he’d been called on to pinch hit in the afternoon’s game. He had no doubt in his mind that Nolan was going to be the team’s number two starter behind Trent. He saw himself as the number four starter behind Trent, Nolan, and Scott. He thought he and Cal were equal and that his team seniority would give him the nod over Cal as the number four man. And suddenly he found himself starting in the number two slot.
“I know this surprises you some, but trust me, this is not a spur of the moment decision. Coach Sanders, Coach Simmons, Coach Corcoran, and I have had numerous discussions about our starting rotation and we thought in the overall scheme of things, Aiden was our best pick to start our second game whether or not we won our first one.
“Coach Sanders spent time talking to people and even snuck away an inning to watch an inning of the Torrance game on the way to the men’s room.” That comment earned the coach a chorus of titters. “He thinks Aiden’s repertoire of pitches and his intelligence and poise is more than enough to give their free swingers fits.”
“That’s Aiden. Outthink them and then outpitch them,” Trent said.
“We haven’t set the batting order yet, but here are the starters. Aiden at pitcher and Mac will be catching. The infield will be Max at first, Emmett at second, Trent at third, and Scott at short. The outfield from left to right will be Riley, Gordy, and Miles.”
The only starters that surprised anybody were Aiden at pitcher and Emmett at second. They were expecting Miles, Lance, or Mason to start in place of Aiden at second. Coach Hallion had told Mason before the meeting that he wouldn’t be starting because he would be singing during the opening festivities, which would prevent him from being ready to play at the start of the game. He promised Mason he would get into the game.
Coach Hallion then went over the schedule for the rest of the day. “Dinner will be at five-thirty. Your time is yours as long as you remain at the resort and don’t go skinny dipping.” A round of laughter broke out with a couple of fingers being pointed. ‘Eric was right’, James thought. ‘Somebody had been planning something. It’s nice to have assistant coaches who have been part of the Mayfield program.’
“Room curfew is eight and lights out at eight-thirty.” That elicited an expected round of groans. “Game time is eight-thirty in the morning on Field 1, which means we should be there no later than quarter to eight. And that, guys, means your room phones will be ringing at six-thirty.” Even though the times were no surprise, the wake-up time brought on an even louder round of groans. The boys understood the reason for the times, but they felt it was their obligation as tweens and teens to show their displeasure. “Any questions before I dismiss you?”
Aiden, who the group of five had selected as their spokesman, raised his hand. Coach Hallion pointed to him. “Go ahead, Aiden.”
Aiden told the coaching staff and his teammates who hadn’t heard the story (which was most of them) about the confrontation with the Forest Grove team. “That’s why we were late,” Aiden explained after reporting on what had been said. “All we did with the Mounties was check the score and then we headed for the bus.”
“We heard the crap they were saying at the concert last night,” Mac said, “so I guess we shouldn’t be surprised. I don’t know if I would have been able to walk away from them and the hateful things you described.”
“And you’re not even gay,” Trent pointed out.
“It was a good thing Coach Eric showed up, because I think they wanted to get us mad enough to fight or something,” Aiden said. “And everything they said was about the faggots in the band…sorry about having to use that word but they kept saying it…and not about gay guys on the Goats. I don’t even know if they know we’ve got some gays on the Goats who are out.”
“What we want to know,” Nolan said, “is what do we do if we run into them tomorrow, or end up playing them tomorrow? I mean, we can all read a tournament bracket and if we both win or both lose tomorrow, we’ll be playing each other.”
With a nod from James, Eric answered the question. The Goats’ head coach knew that Eric, as a former Mayfield baseball player as well as a gay man, understood the players’ mentality better than he did. “One of the things that makes you guys great is that you don’t let other teams do your thinking for you. You’ve had to deal with an amazing amount of bullshit this year from various players and teams, and you’ve always kept your cool and been yourselves. And that includes right here at the BaseBrawl.
“That’s what will see you through whatever you have to face tomorrow. Show them that you’re stronger, smarter, and without question, better people. And remember just because we have some gay players who are out doesn’t make us a gay team since most of you guys aren’t gay. And just because Forest Grove has some gay bashers, doesn’t make them a team of gay bashers. I’d guess that most of their team doesn’t approve of their teammates’ behavior.”
“Then why don’t they stop it?” Gordy asked.
“Maybe because TEAM in capital letters isn’t part of their make up like it is for the Goats. And if we run across that same behavior tomorrow, being a TEAM will make us stronger than them in every way.”
“Thanks, Eric,” Coach Hallion said. “I couldn’t have said it better. Now, unless there is any other pressing business, let’s enjoy the rest of the day as a, well, as a TEAM.”
Trent raised his hand and Coach Hallion recognized him.
“We’re a team,” Trent said, “and it usually isn’t our style to single out players but I gotta say that the way Max put down the Sun Kings in that last inning was beyond awesome. Two Ks and a harmless little grounder really let the air outta their balloon. Max, you da man! Way to go!” The entire Goats team showed their approval with a resounding round of cheering and applause as they shared high-fives with a smiling Max.
After the meeting adjourned, the Goat players quickly changed into their swim wear so they could enjoy the pool for an hour or so. They saw members the Tucson team by the pool. The boys exchanged friendly chatter about their exciting game and wished each other good luck in their next one. The Tucson players would be eating an early dinner before returning to the Mission Sports park for a seven o’clock game against Las Vegas, who had been hammered 11-3 by Torrance.
They learned that St. George had been crushed 18-2 by the San Diego Force and that they were in Meeting Room B for one of their seemingly endless meetings. They would be facing San Antonio at seven. The losers of the seven o’clock games would be eliminated from the main Brawl and would be playing in the consolation tournament instead.
Just after four-thirty the Mounties arrived from their game. The fact that they weren’t still at Mission Park meant that they had won their opener and wouldn’t be playing a losers’ bracket game that evening. They proudly announced that they beat Chula Vista 5-3 in eight innings.
“Canuck Power!” Aiden called out. Warren, Tommy, and a couple of other Mounties bowed in appreciation.
“We’re gonna need more power than that since eight-thirty is way too early to play a game,” Warren said. “And I don’t even want to think about how early our phones are set to kick us out of bed.”
“You’d think they’d have losers’ games that early,” Aiden nodded. “We’re in the winners’ bracket and have to get up at oh-dark-thirty to play—that is a grade A suck fest.”
“The sun rises at six o’clock,” Gordy pointed out.
“I know, but it might as well be dark at six-thirty, so I’m going to pretend like it is. And I’m going to have to figure out how to get into my zone by then.”
“Forget zones and just be ready to pitch, kick ass, and have fun,” Cal said.
“If I do that, I’ll be a train wreck by game time. You do what works for you and I’ll do what works for me.”
“You’re right, but I was just saying that there’s more than one way to do things and it don’t hurt to try. But you gotta do what you gotta do and…”
“…and you gotta do what you gotta do,” Aiden finished for him.
The teammates exchanged hugs and headed to their rooms to dress for dinner. Dressing for dinner meant putting on some kind of shirt, shorts, and sandals or shoes.
The Goats and Mounties intermingled during dinner. The friendship between Warren and Tommy with Aiden, Gordy, and Mason, inspired others to get to know each other. And now Asher, Nolan, and Cal had been thrown into the mix. The seven of them sat together and chatted about their exciting games that afternoon and their upcoming games in the morning.
Added to that, both teams’ homes were just over 200 miles apart, which gave them a feeling of closeness even though they were in different countries. The great games they had against each other in the Federal Way Tournament were also a factor in the budding friendships between the members of the two teams.
The Mariners at Angels game the next day was another hot topic. All sixteen teams would be attending the game. The tournament committee had purchased a bloc of seats in the right field bleachers at a big discount from the Angels’ group sales department. Each team received 20 tickets for the game. Of course, the Goats were beyond excited that the Mariners happened to be the Angels’ opponent. While Mounty players were Toronto Blue Jays fans first and foremost, the Mariners were their number two team because of their proximity.
“I wonder if the Torrance players will figure out that Marty really is from Mayfield when they’re at the game,” Cal speculated.
“How would they do that?” Mason asked.
“They might learn it from reading the program.”
“That assumes that they know how to read,” Aiden said.
“Aiden’s got those guys figured out perfectly,” Nolan grinned.
With their early morning wake up calls looming, the teams enjoyed dessert together in the central courtyard before retiring to their rooms well before their curfew. Aiden had asked to have a king bed to himself, which Mason and Nolan gladly gave him. “It’s okay with me if you two share the other king,” Aiden had told them. Neither one of them was eager to try sleeping with someone they hadn’t slept with before. Since Mason was okay with sleeping on the rollaway bed, the sleeping arrangements were set.
“You should be starting tomorrow’s game,” Aiden told Nolan while Mason was in the bathroom taking care of his evening business.
“I call bullshit,” Nolan said without hesitation. “I know for a fact that you pitched some of the Goats’ biggest games this year and pitched really great baseball. So, quit finding ways to feel sorry for yourself and just do what you do before games to get into that zone of yours.”
“But those teams weren’t California teams with herking goons ready to knock the ball out of the park.”
“Aiden,” Nolan barked sternly.
“What?”
“Get over yourself.”
The conversation ended there as Mason came out of the bathroom with clean teeth and an empty bladder.
“Hey, Mason, knock them dead tomorrow,” Nolan said. “After what I saw from you yesterday, you’re gonna rock in the morning.”
“Thanks, Nolan,” Mason responded shyly. He was pleased to receive that bit of attention from Nolan. He felt a little intimidated by Aiden’s boyfriend. To him, Nolan was everything he wasn’t. He was big, strong, a mega-star athlete, smart in school, friends with everybody. And he was also super-extra nice as his wishing Mason well had just verified.
After he and Aiden did their own business and shared a good night kiss, Nolan turned out the room lights as Aiden said his evening gratitude prayer from his knees and then went under the covers. After getting under the covers he looked up into the dark and tried to work on his focus and getting into his zone. Nolan and Mason both knew this was what Aiden had in mind, which is why they were more than willing to let him have his private space.
Aiden was meeting with little success. What was running through his head was “everyone” talking about how tough the California teams were and how Torrance was one of the best of the best. He thought about calling Coach Hallion and begging off the start, saying his stomach felt upset. That would give the start to Nolan, who was the pitcher who should be facing a powerhouse team. But he knew that was the coward’s way out and even though he didn’t feel he was the right pitcher for the game, he knew he wasn’t a coward. Besides, if he begged off the start, then Nolan would be more pissed at him than he already was.
Suddenly Aiden knew what his problem was. The problem was that he was afraid. He’d always been a bundle of nerves before a game he was slated to pitch, but he’d never felt like he was afraid.
He had known fear. He had been afraid when he was seven and eight. He found out that alcohol wiped out the fear. When he had his alcoholic crisis a few months before, it had been governed by fear—mainly fear of failure. To make it worse, he was afraid to tell anybody he was afraid, even though he knew it was something he should do in order to get help dealing with that fear. He was afraid to tell his boyfriend, Nolan, his sponsor, Sammy, his big bro, Marty, and his dads. He couldn’t admit to being afraid because he was supposed to be the strong leader instead of someone who was afraid of…afraid of…well, afraid of something. He wondered for a brief moment if alcohol would solve his problem, and that thought frightened him even more.
Aiden tried to think zone but the thought of fear kept coming back—in this case fear of the big, not very nice, boys from Torrance. Game time was moving closer, and Aiden didn’t feel an ounce of readiness. Wherever his zone was, he couldn’t get his mind anywhere close it. He tossed and turned for over an hour before a restless sleep finally overtook him.
Next: The SoCal BaseBrawl, Day 4. No Mercy
Starting lineups with team’s season record in parentheses.
Mayfield Yard Goats (22-7)
- Gordy (SS)
- Aiden (2B)
- Trent (P)
- Muddy (DH) batting for Grant (RF)
- Scott (3B)
- Mac (C)
- Miles (LF)
- Max (1B)
- Riley (CF)
Tucson Sunnyside All-Star Sun Kings (19-6)
- Ken G (LF)
- Paulo E (SS)
- Zach H (1B)
- Abe M (3B)
- Trevor S (DH) batting for Milo A (P)
- Spencer T (CF)
- Jerry D (C)
- Danny G (LF)
- Hank B (2B)
Day 1 Scores:
Game 1-Torrnce All-Star Bulldogs 11, Las Vegas 3 (5 innings)
Game 2-Mayfield Yard Goats 7, Tucson All-Star Sun Kings 6
Game 3-Forest Grove Oregon Vikings 7, San Antonio 0
Game 4-San Diego Force 18, Dixie All-Stars St. George Utah 0 (5 innings)
Game 5-Bonita California 11, Carlsbad Cavers 3 (6 innings)
Game 6-Huntington Beach Waves 3, Pacifica 2
Game 7-Surrey BC Mounties 5, Chula Vista 3 Explorers (8 innings)
Game 8-Orange California 7, San Jose 6
Game 9-Las Vegas 7, Tucson All-Star Sun Kings 4 (loser to consolation tournament)
Game 10-San Antonio 8, St. George 2 (loser to consolation tournament)
Game 11-Pacifica 6, Carlsbad Cavers 2 (loser to consolation tournament)
Game 12-Chula Vista Explorers 6, San Jose 5 (8 innings) (loser to consolation tournament)