Alive on Opening Day (16 page)

The second pitch was
nearly identical, and, though Waterman managed to make contact, it
was much weaker contact than it should have been, and the ball
skipped sickly down the first-base line.

“
Hey, Wet,” Dan
called.

Waterman shot Dan an
annoyed look. “What?” he snapped.

“
You afraid of the ball,
or something?” Dan teased.

Ted’s eyes flashed in
anger, then his expression smoothed as he realized what Dan was
trying to say.

“
No, man,” Waterman said.
“I just want to be able to pull the inside ball.”

The two boys had moved
toward each other, separated by the backstop.

Dan began again. “Look,
Ted , I know you’ve added some muscle, and those guns look great,
but you can’t power the ball out of the park, or even through the
infield, without using your hips and legs.”

Ted was nodding. “Yeah, I
suppose you’re right.”

“
And, if you move a little
closer to the plate, you won’t have to hold the bat all the way
down at the knob. Choke up just a bit and you’ll have much better
control and still be able to cover the strike zone. Croft’s
fastball won’t even leave a red mark if it hits you, so get in
there and claim your space.”

Ted exhaled and let his
shoulders fall. It was an expression of both surrender and relief,
as he was admitting he wasn’t yet ready to be the next Mickey
Mantle but also happy he didn’t have to try to hit a home run with
every swing.

“
OK, Dan,” Waterman
said.

As Ted stepped back into
the box, at least a foot closer to the plate than before, Dan
called out again: “And don’t forget to swivel your hips toward the
field when you follow through.”

Waterman touched the bill
of his batting helmet in acknowledgment and looked back toward the
mound, waiting for Croft’s next offering.

The coach once again
delivered a fat fastball over the middle of the plate, but this
time Ted met the ball squarely and pushed it out into center field,
shallow but deep enough to make him smile.

“
Good,” Dan called. “Make
sure to flip your hips open, though.They moved some, but you have
plenty more power in those pegs of yours.”

“
Shut up!” Ted yelled
back, but his voice was good-natured. “Just gotta get my timing
down now that I’m using all your fancy advice!”

Waterman set up one more
time, and Croft fired off yet another fastball. This one tailed
outside, but it didn’t matter for Ted, who caught it just as it
broke the plane of the plate and drove hard with his left leg,
torquing the ball deep to right field. On the mound, Croft flipped
around to follow the flight of the hit, and Dan whooped as the
white spheroid flew past the rickety outfield fence and bounced
toward the sewage plant.

“
Heads up, Mr. Collins!”
Dan hollered, invoking the name of the crotchety history teacher
who spent nights and weekends treating the school’s waste
water.

Ted looked back to Dan and
pumped his fist.

On the mound, Croft smiled
and nodded to Dan. He mouthed the words, “Nice job.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Faded Hero

As Waterman stepped in
against Kurt Gregory, the Cadets’ fireballing righty, Dan recalled
the moment at batting practice that had turned around Ted’s season.
Really, it was also the moment that had turned around the
Eagles’
season, because
as soon as Big Ted started to hit, so did the rest of the team. The
guys in front of Ted in the lineup turned their attention to
getting on base so he could drive them in, and the guys behind him
were usually hitting without pressure since Waterman regularly
cleared the bases with his big knocks.

From that day in late
April until the end of the season, Ted hit .583 with 10 home runs
and 31 runs batted in over the course of 10 games. Pitchers seemed
afraid to pitch to him and had started walking him, which meant he
got on base, one way or the other, nearly 80% of the
time.

But Kurt Gregory was a
talent in his own right, and he didn’t back down from anyone. When
Ted dug in and set up close to the plate, Gregory wasted no time in
uncorking a high inside fastball that sent Ted sprawling to the
ground. Eagles fans booed, and players from both teams exchanged
angry stares, but the home plate ump stepped forward and raised
both hands, urging everyone to stay calm. He pointed to the mound
and yelled, “Watch it, Gregory.”

After the crowd settled
down, Ted stepped into the box again, but about a foot outside
where he should have been. Before Dan could even think about it,
Gregory laid in another fastball, and Ted waved at it, his hands
all the way down at the knob.

From the dugout, Croft
called out, “Step up there, Waterman, and
choke
up!”

Ted shot a disbelieving
look to his coach but then did as instructed. Gregory took his time
with the next pitch, finally offering up an off-speed ball that
looked like one of those Bugs Bunny slo-mo pitches that caused the
Gashouse Gorillas such fits in the old cartoons. It was a textbook
sequence, but Ted was looking for another fastball and swung way
too early, twisting his body into the ground like a
corkscrew.

Dan noticed Waterman had
been slightly off-balance, weight on his front foot throughout the
at-bat and tried to catch Croft’s eye to key him in, but the coach
was too focused on the action on the field. Dan bounced back and
forth nervously as Ted stepped back into the box, wanting to help
but knowing he wasn’t allowed in the dugout.

Finally, just as Ted was
setting up, Dan yelled out, “Lean back, Ted!”.

The catcall distracted
Waterman, who called for time and stepped out of the box. He looked
into the stands and met Dan’s eyes, nodding his understanding. Then
he settled back into his stance, this time looking much more
balanced.

Up in the count two
strikes to one ball, Gregory would most likely try to end the
encounter with a bang by blowing a fastball by Ted, and Dan looked
out to the mound to watch the big pitcher set up. Immediately, Dan
noticed Gregory was standing with his left foot closer to third
base than it had been throughout the inning to that point. When he
threw either a fastball or change-up, Gregory set up with his feet
in a direct line with home plate, so this slight angle could mean
he was planning a different offering.

Dan had played against
Gregory a couple of times and had heard about him plenty, so he ran
through the right-hander’s repertoire in his mind. The fastball and
change were his bread and butter, but Dan seemed to remember
Gregory had been working on something else toward the end of the
previous season, too. As the pitcher went into his windup, the
light-bulb went on for Dan.

“
Curveball!” he yelled,
and reflexively clapped a hand over his mouth as if he’d just
divulged a national secret.

In the box, Ted’s head
flinched, but the rest of his body remained rock solid. The pitch
rolled toward home just above belt-high but then downward, only
slightly, as it crossed the plate. Gregory had hung his curveball,
and Ted was ready for it. He swung hard and met the ball on the
back half of the plate, a violent hip flip helping him pull the
pitch into center field. Dan watched the ball climb into the night
and could see in his peripheral vision that Gregory had fallen to
the ground as he spun to watch the flight.

The Cadets’ center fielder
sprinted all the way to the wall, but he was left to watch and
admire as the ball carried into the gloaming and disappeared down a
hill that led to the parking lot.

Back on the field, Ted
clenched his fist near his chest as he circled the bases, and
Eagles fans cheered in celebration of his home run.

Dan’s eyes followed his
lumbering former teammate around the diamond, and the two nodded to
each other when Ted stepped on home plate. As Waterman bent to pick
up his bat and teammates stepped toward the on-deck circle to
congratulate him, Dan heard a shout from the direction of the
Eagles’ dugout.

“
Nice call, Coach!” the
voice called out.

Dan looked around to see
Croft with his hands at the sides of his mouth for amplification.
The coach smiled and gave Dan a thumbs-up. Dan returned the smile,
and David clasped his son on the shoulder.

“
Great job, Dan,” David
said.

“
Thanks, Dad,” Dan
replied. He rubbed his eyes and followed up with, “Dad?”

“
Yes, Dan?”

“
I’m not feeling very
well. I think I need to go home.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Slipping Away

Dan was asleep before
David had even pulled out of the Addison parking lot, and David
smiled as cheers erupted once again from the stadium behind him.
Evidently, Ted’s home run had not been the last of the South
Pickens fireworks in the fifth inning.

Once David was on the
road, though, he looked across the seat at his slumbering son, and
all the mirth drained from his body. Dan’s face was slack and
white, and he was breathing deeply and regularly. His shoulder belt
held his upper body in place, but his head slumped and bobbed
forward, causing his neck to crane toward the dash so far David
feared any bump might cause damage.

David pulled onto the
berm, reached across the seat to unfasten Dan’s seat belt,
stretched the boy across the seat, and laid Dan’s head in his lap.
He fastened the lap belt around Dan’s waist and snapped himself
back into the driver’s seat. It was not the most secure riding
arrangement David had ever seen, but he thought it would be good
enough to keep Dan from sliding off the seat, and it would protect
his neck. Besides, David was in no hurry and would drive very
carefully.

When they arrived home
just over an hour later, Clara’s car was already in the driveway,
and the kitchen light was on. It was barely 7:30 and the sun hung
low in the late spring sky, but the Hodges house was situated under
a grove of walnut trees that provided enough shade to make it feel
like night.

David hopped out of the
cab and walked around to Dan’s side of the truck. There, he opened
the door, unfastened Dan’s seatbelt once again, and slid the young
man to the edge of the seat. David steeled himself for the effort
and scooped Dan into his outstretched arms, carrying him like a
baby stretched out for a nap. David hadn’t lifted his son in more
than 10 years, and he was surprised how easily it came back to him,
despite the fact Dan weighed more than David himself. A father’s
love is strong, Dan thought, and laughed a little at his own
corniness.

By the time David made it
to the back door with Dan in his arms, Clara had heard the truck
doors and stepped out on the stoop to greet her men.

“
What’s going on?!” she
exclaimed, worry on her face.

David tried to remain calm
and comfort his wife. “It’s OK, Clara,” he said. “I think he’s just
been doing too much lately, and this has been a really big
day.”

Clara clutched at her
husband’s arm and stroked Dan’s forehead.

David motioned toward the
interior of the house with his head. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s get
him in bed, and then I’ll tell you all about it.”

Clara nodded nervously but
stepped aside to let David in.

—

Thirty minutes later,
David and Clara sat at the kitchen table, holding hands around cups
of hot coffee. David had filled her in on the morning workout where
Dan met Harry Foster and the invitation to Cincinnati. He also told
her about the trip to Addison and how Dan had maybe saved the game
with his coaching advice.

She had nodded throughout
his narrative, but she still looked worried.

“
But what happened,
David?” she asked. “Why did he pass out?”

“
Oh,
come on, Clara,” David said. “He didn’t
pass out
. He just fell
asleep.”

His tone said, “Don’t be
ridiculous,” but David was gripped by uncertainty and anxiety, too,
and his denial was more an attempt to convince himself than his
wife that everything was OK with Dan.

“
If he
just
fell asleep
, he would have woken up when you carried him inside,” Clara
protested. “Something is really wrong with him, isn’t
it?”

David’s stomach clinched,
and his pulse thudded in his ears.