Dugout Rivals (4 page)

C
hris, Jake, Adam, Isaiah …” Coach Sanders called out the familiar lineup as the Red Sox listened on the bench. “Kyle’s sick today, so Ryan will start in right field and bat ninth.”

“All right!” Jake smiled at his friend. “You’re in the starting lineup.”

“Yeah,” the Red Sox benchwarmer said. “But I’m way out in right field.”

“So what?” Jake said. “Babe Ruth played right field.”

“So that means I’m Babe Ruth?” Ryan joked.

“Maybe,” Jake replied. Then he jumped up from the bench, clapping his hands.
“Come on, we gotta really hustle today,” he said. “The Royals are good.”

“What’s their record?” Adam asked.

“Five wins and three losses,” Hannah answered from the end of the bench. “They just lost to the Dodgers by one run last week.”

“Yeah,” Jake said. “And the Dodgers are tied with us for first place.”

“Who cares?” Ryan said. “We’ve got Adam on our side, remember?”

“
Everybody’s
got to play well,” Jake insisted.

“Even Ryan?” Adam gave Ryan a quick shoulder punch.

“Especially Ryan,” Jake said. “He’s starting today.”

The Royals were just as good as Jake thought. They set down the Red Sox in the top of the first inning with three smart fielding plays. In the bottom of the inning, Adam struck out the first two batters. Then the Royals rallied, rapping out two hard hits. They now had runners on second and third, with two outs.

“Come on, Red Sox!” Jake yelled as he pounded his glove out at shortstop. “Let’s get the last out.”

The Royals runners were off as the batter lifted a high fly ball to right field. Jake watched helplessly as Ryan circled, wobbly legged, under the ball. At the last instant, he stuck out his glove. The ball plopped into the webbing.

“All right!” Jake shouted, throwing his fist into the air.

He turned and caught Adam’s eye on the mound. The Red Sox pitcher grinned and let out a big sigh of relief. The score was still 0–0.

The Red Sox tumbled back onto the bench. “Great catch, Ryan,” Adam said. “You had me worried for a second.”

Ryan dismissed Adam with a wave of his glove. “No problem,” he said. “Just call me Babe Ruth.”

Jake smiled and rolled his eyes.

The Red Sox and the Royals stayed locked in a tight, tough game. The Red Sox grabbed the lead in the top of the third
inning as Jake got on base with a sharp single and Adam sent him racing home with a hard double.

Adam had pitched two innings, so Coach Sanders brought in Sam to pitch. Again he moved Adam to shortstop and Jake to second base. The Royals took advantage of the new pitcher and picked up two runs with a walk and a couple of clean hits. They would have scored even more, but Adam jumped high to snag a scorching line drive for the last out of the inning.

Both teams scored runs in the fourth inning, so the Red Sox trailed 3–2 when they came to bat in the top of the fifth. Ryan and Chris struck out to start the inning. Jake stepped into the batter’s box with nobody on and two outs.

“Come on, Jake,” Adam cheered from the on-deck circle. “Save my ups.”

Jake eyed the infield. The Royals third baseman was playing way back, almost on the edge of the outfield grass.
Two outs, nobody on,
Jake thought.
It might be worth a try …

The Royals pitcher fired a fastball toward the inside half of the plate. Jake lowered his bat and the ball plunked against it. He sprinted to first base as the ball dribbled slowly toward the third baseman and settled on the infield grass. It was a perfect bunt! Jake was on first and Adam was coming to bat.

Adam won’t bunt,
Jake told himself as he stood on first base. Sure enough, after two pitches sailed wide, Adam got a pitch that he liked.

Crack!
The ball soared over the center-field wall as Jake and Adam jogged around the bases to put the Red Sox back in the lead, 4–3. The team mobbed Adam at home plate, slapping him on his batting helmet and back.

“Did you see that homer?” Ryan crowed.

“It must have gone a mile,” Isaiah said.

“Come on, guys, the game’s not over,” Jake reminded his teammates. He was annoyed that everyone had forgotten his bunt single. “The Royals aren’t going to give up.”

The Royals didn’t quit. In the bottom of the fifth with Isaiah pitching now, the Royals scratched out another run. The score was tied at 4–4 when the Red Sox came to bat in the sixth and final inning.

“Come on, we’re in a real ballgame here,” Coach Sanders said as he marched back and forth in front of the bench. “Let’s get some more runs.”

He stopped in front of Adam and Jake. “How’s your arm feeling?” he asked Adam.

“Fine.”

Coach Sanders turned to Jake’s father, who was sitting in the corner of the dugout. “How many pitches did Adam throw in the first two innings?” he asked.

Mr. Daley studied his laptop screen for a moment. “Thirty-four,” he answered. “He’s nowhere near the seventy-five-pitch limit.”

Coach Sanders turned back to Adam. “I may need you to come back and pitch the sixth inning if we get ahead. Can you do it?”

“No problem,” Adam said.

All the Red Sox were up and cheering when Michael smacked a solid single to
center field. Hannah dashed toward home with the go-ahead run.

The Red Sox were back on top, 5–4. “Listen up,” Coach Sanders called as the Red Sox got ready to take the field. “Adam’s going back in to pitch. Jake’s going to shortstop. Michael to second base. Great hit, Michael. Now let’s hold them.”

Jake stood at shortstop and watched Adam warm up. His easy, almost effortless delivery sent the ball speeding to Evan’s mitt.

Ssssssssmack!

The Royals don’t stand a chance now,
Jake said to himself, shaking his head and smiling.

Adam blew fastballs by the first two batters, striking out each of them on three straight pitches. The final Royals hitter looped a lazy pop fly to shortstop. Jake caught it easily and held the ball high above his head in triumph.

The Red Sox had won, 5–4! The bench filled with high fives and happy chatter.

After they collected their gloves and
equipment bags, Jake, Adam, and Ryan walked together toward the parking lot.

“That was close,” Jake said. “The Royals were tough.”

“I knew we’d win,” Adam said.

“How’d you know that?” Jake asked.

Adam jerked a thumb at Ryan. “When Ryan caught that fly ball in the first inning, I figured it was our lucky day.”

“Just call me Babe Ruth,” Ryan said.

J
ake stared at the back of his house. He took two steps forward and threw the tennis ball hard against it.

Thwack!
The ball flew high in the air. Keeping his eye on the ball, Jake drifted back until he was almost at the back fence. The ball was headed into the next yard, but he ripped it from the air with a quick snap of his glove.

“Nice catch. Are you trying to be our center fielder now?”

Adam stood at the corner of the yard, a backpack slung over his shoulder.

“Hey, what’s up?” Jake said.

“I forgot my key,” Adam said with a
shrug. “I can’t get into my house. Can I hang out here for a while?”

“You’re always forgetting your key!” Jake said. “I’ll tell my dad.” He went inside and made his way downstairs to his father’s office. “Adam’s here,” he announced. “He forgot his keys. Again.”

Mr. Daley raised one eyebrow. “You don’t sound too thrilled,” he said.

“I don’t care. It’s just that he’s always coming over,” Jake said. “First he takes over the team and then he takes over my house.”

Mr. Daley pushed back his desk chair and stood up. “Give Adam a break,” he said. “He’s new in town and new on the team. That’s not easy.”

“I guess,” Jake said.

“Come on,” Mr. Daley said, putting his arm around Jake. “Let’s go upstairs.”

Jake and his dad went out into the yard. “Hi, Adam,” Mr. Daley said. “It’s nice to see you.”

“I forgot my key,” Adam explained. “I just texted my mom. She’s going to leave work early and pick me up here, if that’s okay.”

“That’s no problem,” Mr. Daley said. Then he turned to his son. “Right, Jake?” he asked. But it really wasn’t a question.

“Um, sure,” Jake said.

Jake watched his dad go back into the house. Then he looked at Adam. “So what do you want to do?”

“What were you doing?” Adam said.

“Practicing,” Jake answered. He tossed the tennis ball in the air and caught it. “Hey, let’s play Outs. We haven’t played that before.”

“What’s Outs?”

Jake began to explain the game as he walked around the backyard pointing. “Okay, one guy is in the field and the guy with the ball is the batter.”

“Where’s the bat?” Adam asked, looking around.

“No bat. The batter just throws the ball against the house, like when I practice grounders,” Jake said. He pretended to throw the ball at the house. “The fielder has to stand back here,” he went on, turning and walking farther into the yard. “Any
grounder that gets by the fielder is a single. Anything that lands in the yard past the bush is a double.”

“What’s a triple?” Adam asked.

“If it hits the fence on the fly,” Jake answered, pointing. “Anything over the fence is a home run.”

“That’s real far,” Adam said, looking at the fence. “How can you get a home run?”

“Oh, there are ways.” Jake smiled as he thought of a certain uneven spot on the house. “But I’m not telling you. That’s my home-field advantage.”

“Come on,” Adam said. “You’ve already got a big advantage. I don’t even have my glove.”

“We can share my glove. We only need one.” Jake flipped Adam the tennis ball. “You’re up first,” he said.

The game was low scoring. Both boys were fast and good fielders. Not many “hits” got by them or fell onto the grass. Jake scored first when Adam bobbled a hot grounder.

“That’s an error,” Jake said. “So I’m ahead, 1–0.”

“It’s your lousy glove,” Adam said, smashing
his fist into the leather. “You should put some oil in the pocket. It’s too stiff.”

“It wasn’t so stiff when you made that diving stop last inning,” Jake pointed out.

Adam pulled ahead in the top of the last inning when the ball angled away from Jake’s outstretched glove for a double. That drove in two runs.

After Jake caught a high fly ball at the fence for the third out, he tossed Adam his glove.

“Okay, it’s the bottom of the last inning. You’re ahead, 2–1,” Jake said. “I’ve got last ups.”

“So now you’re gonna bring out your secret home-run ball,” Adam said. He slipped his left hand into Jake’s glove.

“Home-field advantage,” Jake said with a smile. Then he turned to look at the house.
First I’d better get someone on base,
he thought. Jake tried a hard, high throw, but Adam moved quickly to his left, reached up, and snagged the ball.

“One out,” Adam said, tossing the ball back to Jake.

Jake ran a few steps toward the house, leaned to his left, and threw hard and low to his right. The fake worked. The grounder skipped just past the diving Adam for a single.

“Nice hit,” Adam said. “Are you gonna bring out your secret home-run ball now?”

Jake looked up at the house for his special spot. He knew if he threw the ball too high or too low it wouldn’t make it to the fence. But if he hit his spot at the right angle, the ball would fly over the fence and he would finally beat Adam at something.

“One out, one runner on,” Jake said, making sure Adam knew he had two chances to come back.

“Oh no.” Adam grinned. “I’m in trouble now. How far back can I play?”

“You have to start even with the bush,” Jake said, pointing to the side of the yard. He looked back at the house, eyed his spot, then took two steps forward and threw hard. His throw was a little off and the ball floated too high.

Adam raced back and said in his best
announcer voice, “It’s a long drive. Hull is going back … back … back. He has room, and he … makes the catch!”

Adam threw the ball to Jake. “Daley’s down to his last at bat,” he said, still using his announcer’s voice. “Hull leads by one run.”

Jake fixed his eyes on his special spot again. He took two steps and threw. This time, the ball hit its mark at just the right angle and flew high into the afternoon sky. Jake turned, certain he had his home run and his victory.

Adam sprinted to the fence. This time there was no announcer’s voice. He turned and leaped, stretching his gloved hand back over the fence as far as he could. The ball disappeared. Adam bounced off the fence and tumbled to the ground with his glove, now closed, underneath him. He got up slowly and walked in with his hands hanging at his sides, his glove still shut tight.

Jake ran toward Adam with both fists held high in triumph like a boxer who had just scored a knockout. “I win!” he declared. “Finally.”

“Not so fast,” Adam said. He opened his glove and tossed the yellow tennis ball to Jake. “
I
win,” he said with a smile. “Two to one.”

W
h … what?” Jake stammered. “There’s no way you caught that ball.”

“Then how did it get in my glove?” Adam asked, still smiling.

“I can’t believe it!” Jake screamed, slapping the sides of his legs. “I can’t beat you at
anything.
”

Just then Adam’s cell phone rang and he pulled it from his pocket.

“Hi, Mom … yeah … okay. Love ya. Bye.” He turned to Jake. “My mom says she’ll be here in twenty minutes.”

Oh no,
Jake thought.
Twenty more minutes playing Outs with Adam.

“Let’s get something to eat,” Jake said.

“Sure.” Adam followed him inside to the kitchen, where Jake’s sister Ivy was making popcorn. Mr. Daley sat at the table, reading something on his laptop.

“Hi, guys. How’s it going?” Mr. Daley said.

“Adam’s mom is picking him up soon,” Jake was quick to point out.

“Okay,” Mr. Daley said.

Jake squeezed tight on the tennis ball as he glanced at his father and then at Adam.

“Is everything all right?” Mr. Daley asked, looking at Jake.

“Yeah.” Jake nodded. “Everything’s fine.”
Except I can’t wait for Adam to leave,
he added to himself.

“So Adam, how many home runs have you hit this season?” Mr. Daley asked, filling the awkward silence.

“I don’t know,” Adam said. “A bunch, I guess.”

“I have the team stats right here,” Mr. Daley said as he pulled them up on his computer. “I think you have at least five.”

“I saw one,” Ivy blurted out, as she emptied the warm bag of popcorn into a bowl. “You hit it really far.”

“Dad, I thought you didn’t like us looking at our stats before the end of the season,” Jake reminded his father.

“I’m just curious,” Mr. Daley said. He studied the numbers on his screen. “Yep, I was right. You have five home runs. You’re batting over .600 and you have twenty-four runs batted in.” He leaned back and shook his head. “You’ve had one terrific season already, Adam, and it isn’t over.”

“Hey, Ivy, can I have some of that popcorn?” Jake asked. He wasn’t interested in talking about Adam’s stats.

“You’re hitting really well, and you’re pitching great too,” Mr. Daley said. “Which do you like better?”

“I like them both, I guess,” Adam said. “I just like to play.”

“Well, after high school more than 40 percent of the players are pitchers. So you may want to concentrate on pitching. You might even get a college scholarship.”

Bing-bong.
The Daleys’ doorbell rang, and Mrs. Hull rushed in with Adam’s little brother Chad tagging along.

“Is everything all right?” Mr. Daley asked.

“Oh, fine … fine,” she answered, a bit out of breath. “I just wanted to get here quickly. I worry about Adam wearing out his welcome.”

“He’s no problem at all,” Mr. Daley said. “The boys have fun together.”

Just then Jake’s mom walked into the kitchen. “Oh, hi,” she said to Mrs. Hull and Chad. “How are you?”

“Good, thanks,” Mrs. Hull said. She looked from Mrs. Daley to Mr. Daley and back again. “I was wondering whether Jake might like to sleep over at our house tonight?”

Mr. and Mrs. Daley exchanged glances. “Are you sure that’s okay?” Mrs. Daley asked. “You’ll have your hands full with three boys.”

Mrs. Hull laughed. “I already have my hands full with two. Besides, you’ve both
been so good to Adam, this is a way for me to say thanks.”

“Yeah, it’ll be cool,” Adam said to Jake. “I’ll show you my room. We can watch a movie and—”

“We’ve, um, got a big game tomorrow,” Jake said softly.

Mr. Daley glanced up at the schedule posted on the refrigerator behind a thick magnet. “The game isn’t until noon,” he said. “So you boys should be able to get plenty of sleep.” He looked at Mrs. Hull. “Should Jake bring a sleeping bag?”

“No, we have plenty.”

“Jake can sleep in my bed if he wants,” Adam said. “I can sleep on the floor.”

Jake stood in the middle of everyone, feeling as if he were invisible. He didn’t want to sleep over at Adam’s house. The truth was that Jake was tired of Adam. He was tired of him always hanging around after school, tired of him always being the star of the team, and tired of him being better than Jake at everything. Even Outs.

“So how about it?” Mrs. Hull smiled at
Jake. “Would you like to be one of the Hull brothers for a night?”

No,
Jake wanted to say. But he knew he didn’t really have a choice.