Catcher with a Glass Arm (6 page)

“Okay. Make it the next day, then,” Jim Myers said with a grin.

Jody smiled. “Okay!” he said.

He felt good. Mr. Myers was sure a great guy! Imagine him taking such an interest in a boy that he was willing to sacrifice
a lot of his time just to make this boy be a better thrower and hitter.

On August 2, just before the Moose game, Coach Jack Fisher called his team together.

“We have one more game to play after today’s,” he said. “If we win today, we’ll have a good chance to be in the play-off.
We’ve been doing quite well all season, considering that most of you boys have played little before.”

He cleared his throat and looked at Jody. “Jody, we’ll start Rabbit at catching today. You’ve been starting to hit again,
but the Moose have some good hitters who are fast on bases. They’ll take advantage of you every time they get on. You are
throwing
better than you did at the start of the season. Don’t get me wrong. But against these boys you must do even better. I think,
with Rabbit catching, they won’t dare to run as much.”

“Who’s playing short?” Moonie asked.

“Joe Bell,” said the coach.

“Isn’t Jody going to play at all?”

“Not today.”

Jody looked across at Moonie. Their eyes locked. Then Jody looked down at the ground. He thought about all the hours he had
spent practicing batting and throwing. He had improved a lot. He was sure of it. It wasn’t fair that Coach Fisher wasn’t letting
him play today.

“Infielders, hustle out there. Rabbit, warm up Moonie. We have only a few minutes left.”

M
oonie took his time on the mound. He pitched hard and had the Moose swinging and missing. He mowed down the first two with
strikeouts. He was a little wild on the third hitter, and walked him. Then the Moose cleanup man, Mel Devlin, stepped to the
plate, and the Moose fans began giving him support from the bleachers.

Mel was tall and thin. He held up his bat as if it were a toothpick. He had five home runs this year so far. One of them had
been against Moonie during the early part of the season.

From the bench, Jody watched eagerly. He remembered those pitches Mel had hit. They had been high ones, right across the letters
of his shirt.

Keep them low, Moonie,
Jody thought.
Right around his knees.

Moonie toed the rubber and pitched. The pitch was high—
straight across the letters on Mel’s shirt.
Mel swung with all his might.
Crack!
The bat met the ball solidly. The white pill streaked like a missile to left field.

But it was curving! It was going …

“Foul!” cried the umpire.

The Moose fans groaned.

The Dolphins’ fans cried, “Just one long strike, Moonie, ol’ boy!”

Jody’s heart thudded. Man, that was close.
Come on, Moonie! Keep them low!

Moonie kept working hard on Mel. He gave no more high ones. But neither did he
throw him another strike. Mel got a free ticket to first base.

Moonie had trouble with the next batter. The hitter fouled three pitches in a row. Then Moonie curved him, and the batter
swished out.

“Nice going Moonie,” said the coach. “Three strikeouts that first inning. Keep it up. You’re doing fine.”

The Dolphins didn’t get a hit during their turn at bat. The Moose came back and threatened again. They got a man on. A sacrifice
bunt put him on second. A long fly to right field was caught, but the runner tagged up and made it safely to third.

Two outs. The Dolphins’ infield played deep. Moonie stretched, delivered, and a grounder was hit to short. Joe Bell charged
in after it. He fumbled it! The ball skittered behind him. He picked it up, fired it to first.

Safe! And the runner scored.

The next hitter popped to first, and the side was retired.

The innings moved quickly. The Moose put two more runs across in the top of the third. In the bottom of the fourth Roddie
tripled, and Duane drove him in with a hard single over second base.

Moonie then stepped to the plate and pounded a smashing drive to right center field. Duane raced to second, to third, and
then tried to score.

“Hit it!” Frank York, who was next batter, yelled at him.

Duane slid. The throw from deep second base was almost perfect. The catcher caught the ball, put it on Duane, and the umpire
yelled, “Out!”

Moonie took his turn at second and then returned and stayed there.

“Let’s keep it going!” yelled Coach Fisher. “Swing at ’em, Frankie!”

Frankie waited for the pitch he wanted. He swung. A single! Moonie came all the way in to score, making it two runs for the
Dolphins.

Then Arnie struck out to end the rally.

Score: Moose 3; Dolphins 2.

The Moose lead-off man pulled a surprise. He dragged the first pitch, bunting it down the third-base line. Duane ran in, tried
to field the bunt, and slid. He got up disgustedly, tossed the ball to Moonie, and returned to his position. Only now he played
in close, on the grass, in case the batter tried a sacrifice bunt.

The batter did! But he bunted the ball down the first-base line. It looked as if he, too, would get a hit out of it.

Birdie, also playing in close, charged in
after the bunt. He fielded it, turned, and whipped the ball to Moonie, who was running to cover first.

Out!

The Dolphins’ fans cheered. “Nice play, Birdie!”

“That’s the way to play heads-up ball, Moonie!”

One out, man on second.

Moonie stepped on the rubber. He took a quick look over his shoulder at the man leading off second, then delivered.
Crack!
A hard blow just over Frank York’s head. Frank leaped. The ball barely grazed his glove. The runner on second made it to
third and then bolted for home.

Roddie scooped up the ball in right field and heaved it. It was a good throw. It struck the ground twenty feet in front of
home plate and bounced up into Rabbit’s waiting mitt.

The runner hit the dirt and slid across the
plate just as Rabbit put the ball on him. It was close. Very close.

But the umpire’s hands were spread out flat. And very clearly he shouted: “Safe!”

That was it for the Moose that inning. Now they led 4-2, and Jody didn’t think the Dolphins had a chance. He was getting tired
sitting on the bench, too. And worried. Would Coach Fisher ever let him catch again this year?

Birdie walked, and Johnny Bartho doubled, sending Birdie around to third.

Joe Bell, who was due for a hit, was up next. Coach Fisher gave him the squeeze signal. Joe tried twice to bunt, and both
times fouled the pitches. On the next pitch he struck out.

Rabbit tossed aside one of the two bats he was holding and started for the plate.

“Rabbit, wait! Jody, hit in place of Rabbit!”

Jody looked up, surprised. Had he heard right? Had the coach spoken to him?

“Come on, Jody!” said the coach. “Let’s hustle!”

“Yes, sir!” murmured Jody, and sprang out of the dugout.

J
ody moved as if he were in a dream. He picked out his favorite bat and swung it back and forth a few times to limber his muscles.
Then he stepped to the plate.

“Strike!” The first pitch was near his knees, and he backed up a little.

“Stay in there, Jody, boy!” someone yelled in the bleachers. “Be a hitter!”

His heart warmed. He knew whose voice that was.
I’m not afraid,
he thought.
I’m not.

Another pitch. “Ball!”

Then it came in, letters-high. Curving in
toward him. He pulled back his bat and swung with everything he had.

Crack!
The blow could be heard all round the field.

The ball sailed out to deep right field—over the fielder’s head! It looked as if it would go over the fence. It didn’t. It
struck the grass in front of it, bounced up against the fence, and the fielder caught it. By the time he pegged it in, Birdie
and Johnny had scored, and Jody was resting on third base.

“Beautiful hit, Jody!” yelled the coach. He ran forward and slapped him happily on the back. “You really blasted that one,
fella!”

“Thanks,” said Jody, breathing hard.

Roddie came up, socked a one-one pitch toward center field. It was a real high fly. Jody held up at third until the fielder
caught
the ball. Then he raced in as hard as he could, scoring easily.

Duane grounded out, and the rally was over. Three runs, and Jody had knocked in two of them himself and had scored the third.
He felt just fine.

And that curve he had hit—he knew he’d never be afraid of a pitched ball any more.

The Moose came to bat for the last time. They were a beaten bunch. Moonie mowed down the first two hitters, and the third
popped out to Jody.

The Dolphins won, 5-4.

They had won their chance to compete in the play-off game.

They beat the Gophers on Tuesday to clinch second place with ten wins and five losses. On Wednesday the Tigers walloped the
Bobcats to win first-place honors with twelve wins and only three losses.

The standings:

Now the two teams were to play each other for the championship. Coach Fisher was keeping Rabbit Foote behind the plate. Rabbit
was doing all right. In the Gophers game he had thrown out two men who might have scored if they had stolen second safely.
Coach had had Jody pinch-hit, though, and he had hit safely.

It was Jody’s arm the coach was afraid of.
He couldn’t trust Jody to throw that ball hard and straight when he really had to.

The Tigers started things rolling immediately. They began hitting Terry McClane, scoring two runs in the first and then two
more in the second. The Dolphins got a run in the bottom of the second to make the score 4-1.

Then Terry bore down. He threw the ball across the corners, and the third inning went by without the Tigers’ scoring.

Johnny blasted a long drive in the bottom of the third and scored on Joe Bell’s single. The Tigers held them from scoring
more that inning.

Then, in the top of the fourth, with Tigers on first and second, a terrible thing happened.

Rabbit’s right thumb was split open by a foul tip.

Time was called, and Coach Fisher looked at the thumb. It was a nasty cut.

“Just patch it up, Coach,” Rabbit said. “I can still play.”

“I’ll patch it up,” replied the coach, “but you’re not going to play.” He looked around. His eyes spotted Jody. “Jody, help
get those things off Rabbit and put them on yourself. Hurry it up.”

Jody unbuckled the shin guards and buckled them on his own legs. Then Rabbit tossed him the chest protector and the mask.

“Good luck, Jody,” he said.

“Thanks,” said Jody.

Coach Fisher took Rabbit to the dugout, opened the first aid kit, and took care of Rabbit’s thumb. On the field Jody was catching
for Terry. He threw the ball twice into the dirt, then tried harder and threw the others perfectly. After eight pitches the
umpire called time in, and the game resumed.

“Okay, boys!” the Tigers’ fans began to yell. “Now’s your chance! You can steal this catcher blind! That glass arm of his
can’t throw out a turtle!”

“Come on, boy! Come on, Terry! Slam it in here!” Jody rattled on like this. He hoped it would smother those awful things the
opponents were yelling about him.

He caught Terry’s first pitch, rising quickly to throw to third if he had to. But the runners remained on their bases.

“Come on! Steal!” someone in the bleachers yelled. “Let’s see you steal on him!”

That voice! It wasn’t the same one that had yelled the first time. That one wasn’t familiar. This one was. It belonged to
Mr. Myers. But why should Mr. Myers … ?

The pitch came in. From the corners of his eyes Jody could see the runners take off.

“Throw ’im out, Jody! Throw ’im out!”

Jody pegged the ball hard to third. The
ball shot like a white meteor. Duane caught it, pulled it down, and touched the runner sliding in.

“Out!” yelled the base umpire.

The Dolphins’ fans screamed happily.

Jody could hear Mr. Myers laughing in the bleachers.

There was no more base-stealing that inning. And no more runs for the Tigers.

The Dolphins began blasting the ball and put across two runs to tie the score 4-all before the Tigers stopped them.

The Tigers came up in the fifth, the top of their batting order ready to gnaw the Dolphins to bits.

The first man walked, and once again the cry rose for the runner to steal.

“He can’t throw to second! That glass arm broke when he threw to third!”

That was the Tigers’ fan yelling.

“Sure! Try out that arm! See what happens!”

And that was Mr. Myers.

It was like a game those two men had up there in the bleachers, one sitting on the Tigers’ side, the other on the Dolphins’.

The ball came in. The batter shifted his position in the batting box. He was going to bunt.

He met the ball squarely. It struck the ground in front of the plate, hopped twice, and Jody pounced on it. He picked it up,
pegged it hard to second. Frank York caught it, stepped on the bag, and whipped the ball to first.

Twice the base umpire jerked up his thumb.

A double play!

“There you are!” yelled Mr. Myers. “There’s your glass arm!”

The Dolphins’ fans cheered, clapped, and stamped their feet on the bleachers’ seats. The Tigers’ fans only stared and shook
their heads unbelievingly.