Mystery Coach (5 page)

“At the same time you and some other guys played like real beginners,” said Steve, matching Chris’s tone of voice.

“Besides that, Coach Edson just sits in the dugout like a statue,” added Mark. “I’m with Steve. I think we ought to fold.”

“You don’t want to give us a chance!” retorted Chris. “This is only our first game!”

“Our second,” corrected Steve. “We lost one the other day.”

“That was a practice game!”

“So is this as far as I’m concerned,” replied Mick, and started to walk toward the dugout.

Steve caught up with him. Chris trailed, still seething.

“If you quit,” he said, “you’re a couple of cowards.”

Both turned. “Listen,” snorted Steve. “You want to see us lose every game? You want everybody in the neighborhood to laugh
at us everytime they see us? Is that what you want?”

“How do you know we’ll lose every game? Sure we will if we don’t stick together. But we’ve got to stick together.”

“Then we’ll have to get rid of Coach Edson and get a new coach,” said Mick.

“Who’s going to tell him that?” asked Chris, eyeing Mick unflinchingly. “Are you?”

“No. But somebody should.”

“Sure. And break his heart,” said Chris. “Make him sicker than he already is.”

“Come on,” said Steve. “If I’m lucky, be up this inning.”

They reached the front of the dugout and saw that Bill Lewis was on first base.

“How’d he get on?” asked Steve.

“Singled over short,” replied Spike.

Tex Kinsetta was batting. He had two strikes on him, then belted the next pitch to the pitcher. The Scorpion snared the hop
and whipped it to second for the first out. The second baseman pegged to first to complete a quick double play.

“Save me a rap, Don!” cried Steve.

Don Mitchell, pinch-hitting for Wally Munson, did. He cracked a single over second. Then Steve drilled one through the hole
between left and center for two bases. But the Scorpion center fielder, a fast man with an excellent throwing arm, kept Don
from scoring.

Mick, batting next, flied out to third.

Scorpions 7, Blazers 4.

In the top of the fifth Don misjudged a fly
in left field, permitting the hitter to chalk up two bases on the error. The next Scorpion blasted a drive over Chris’s head
for a single, scoring a run, and Chris feared another wild half-inning. That would give both Steve and Mick more to chew on.

Two walks in a row filled the bases, and the next hitter was a left-handed batter.

Chris, his heart pounding, moved closer toward first base and waited.

C
RACK
! A sharp blow to second base! Chris caught the hop and pegged it home. Out!

Frank whipped the ball to first, but the hitter was there by two steps. There were still three men on.

“Get two!” shouted Chris.

Bill Lewis stepped to the mound. He looked at the runners, stretched, and delivered. A hard blow to short! Jack reached for
the hop. The ball glanced off his glove, struck his chest, and rolled to the ground. Quickly Jack retrieved it and snapped it to second. Chris, covering the bag, caught the ball for the out, and fired it to
third.

“Safe!” yelled the ump.

Two outs. In the meantime another run had crossed the plate.

Chris ran out to his position and looked at Steve. The first baseman was standing at ease beside the bag, his arms crossed,
his eyes hard as glass. It didn’t take two guesses to know what was boiling in his mind.

The next Scorpion popped to Frank, ending the half-inning. The Scorpions now led, 9 to 4.

“Start it off, Spike,” said Coach Edson.

Steve looked at him in surprise, then at Chris.
Hey! He’s alive
! his expression seemed to say.

Spike cracked out a double and the Blazer fans cheered. “Keep it going, Blazers!” yelled a fan.

They didn’t. Ken, pinch-hitting for Chris, grounded out, Jack fanned, and Frank hit an easy grounder to first.

The Scorpions managed to put two hits back to back at their turn at bat in the top of the sixth, resulting in another run.
That was all, but it was plenty. The Blazers drew a goose egg and the game was over, the Scorpions winning it, 10 to 4.

“You still think we have a chance?” Steve asked bitterly as he walked off the field with Chris, Ken and Tex.

“Yes, I do,” replied Chris. “I haven’t changed my mind.”

That evening the phone rang, and Chris jumped with a start from his chair. His first thought was that the caller was the mystery
coach.

It was Tex and his voice was quivering with excitement.

“Chris! Spike Dunne just called me! He got a call from the coach, too!”

“The mystery coach?”

“Right!”

“What did he say?”

“He told Spike to move over about ten feet toward center field on a right-handed hitter and closer toward the right field
foul line on a left-handed hitter. Apparently Spike always played in the same spot regardless of who batted.”

Chris pondered a thought, then said, “Tex, do you think
he’d
coach us if we asked him?”

“That’s an idea. But we don’t know who he is, and who he’s going to call next. How can we ask him?”

“I know,” admitted Chris. “But that’s only one problem. The other problem is Coach Edson himself. He’s not doing the team
any good, and we can’t tell him to leave. If he’s
sick now he’ll be sicker if we tell him how we feel.”

“Maybe he’d get the hint if we picked up another coach,” said Tex.

“Maybe he would. I don’t know, Tex. I hate to agree with Herrick and Antonelli, but I’m afraid we are falling apart.”

“Yeah. Me, too,” said Tex sadly.

The second league game was against the Gators, a team considered the one to beat if the Blazers expected to stay in the league
and climb to the top of the heap.

The chief worry now wasn’t the Gators, however. It was Coach Edson. He might as well have stayed home rather than sit on the
bench and just be a spectator. Even some of the spectators were offering more advice than he was.

But who, among the Blazers, would tell him to quit?

Chris glanced at the team members sitting
with him on the bench. All of them seemed as empty of spirit as a deflated balloon was of air. And what put them in such a
mood? Not having a coach who cared!

“Is the lineup the same as it was before, Coach Edson?” asked Steve Herrick, swinging a bat with a “doughnut” on it.

“No change,” answered the coach quietly.

Tex Kinsetta led off. He went the full count, three-two, then walked. Mitch Rogers, the Gators’ tall, red-headed pitcher,
kicked the dirt in front of the rubber as if that were where his problem was, then got into position as Wally Munson came
to bat.

Wally took a two-two count, then blasted a pitch to short center. The fly was caught and Tex trotted back to first.

Steve Herrick, in spite of drilling two foul balls over the fence, flied out to left for the second out. Mick Antonelli socked
Mitch’s first pitch through the hole between third
and short for a single, then Spike Dunne walked, filling the bases.

Chris stepped to the plate, welcomed by a thunderous cry from the Blazer fans.

He took a called strike, then two balls. The next pitch was in there, and he swung. A pop-up to second base.

Disgusted, he tossed the bat aside and started to walk toward first. He watched the ball descend, the second baseman waiting
for it. The ball struck the player’s glove —then dropped to the ground!

In a flash Chris spurted for first base. At the same time the Gator second baseman picked up the ball, and fired it. The throw
beat Chris by three steps.

“Out!” yelled the ump.

Chris, head bowed, walked back to the dugout, got his glove and ran out to his position at second. A fan yelled, “Always run
’em out, Chris!”

He hoped he’d never forget that advice.

The Gators got, onto Abe Ryan’s pitches for two hits and two runs to go into a quick lead, 2 to 0.

“It could’ve been two and two,” said Steve as he ran in with Chris at the end of the first inning.

Chris looked at him but said nothing.

Jack Davis started off the second inning with a single over second on Mitch Rogers’ first pitch. Frank Bellows flied out,
then Abe Ryan singled through short, advancing Jack to second.

Tex was up next. Chris saw him glance at the coach for a sign, but the coach was sitting with his arms Crossed over his chest,
his head back against the dugout wall and his eyes, of all things, closed!

He’s asleep
! thought Chris disbelievingly. But, as he looked closer, he saw that the coach’s eyes were really open.

Crack
! A hard grounder to second. The Gator second baseman caught the hop, dropped it, picked it up, and shot it to first. Out!

Men on second and third, and Wally Munson came to bat. He belted a soft pitch over short, and Spike Dunne, coaching at third,
windmilled Jack in. The throw-in from left field was late and Jack scored. Steve, swinging for the fence, flied out to left.
Three outs.

Blazers 1, Gators 2.

The Gators’ leadoff man drilled a pitch directly at Chris. The ball never climbed more than six feet and. Chris nabbed it
for the out. Abe mowed down the next Gator on strikes, then spoiled matters by hitting the next batter on the thigh.

A soft grounder to short, which the shortstop muffed, advanced the runner to second and scored a hit for the batter. That
was the
extent of it. The next Gator bounced a pitch back at Abe and Abe fired it to first for a fast out. Three outs.

Mick led off in the top of the third and flied out. Spike struck out, and Chris stepped to the plate, wondering if he was
to be the third victim. He took a ball, then two strikes, then blasted a hit to deep left. He rounded first … second … and
started for third. Steve, coaching there, waved him back.

Jack Davis grounded out, and that was it.

The Gators came to bat. The leadoff man, a lefty, bunted safely down to third, then advanced to second on a sacrifice bunt.
Two consecutive hits put two runs across, and the Gators led, 4 to 1.

Frank Bellows, leading off for the Blazers, belted the first pitch for a long triple. Abe grounded out. Frank stayed on third,
not daring to take the chance to run in.

Mitch Rogers wiped his face with the
back of his glove, then breezed in a low pitch to leadoff hitter Tex Kinsetta.
Smack
! A single through short, and Frank scored.

Wally fouled three pitches, then flied out to left, and up came Steve Herrick. He drilled a long foul to left, then uncorked
the big one—a long home run over the left field fence.

“Thatta way to go, Steve!” yelled Ken Lane as Steve trotted around the bases.

Mick Antonelli kept up the rally with a single. But Don Mitchell, pinch-hitting for Spike, flied out and the big half-inning
was over.

Blazers 4, Gators 4.

“Okay, guys!” cried Steve as the team ran out to the field. “Let’s hold ’em!”

Hold ’em they did. But the Gators held the Blazers from scoring in the fifth too, and came to bat in the bottom of the inning
with
their big guns leading off. The bats of the big guns boomed to the tune of one run, putting them ahead, 5 to 4.

Tex beat out a scratch hit to short, but both Wally and Steve got out, leaving the Blazers a very slim chance of winning.
Mick walked, and Don came up, anxiously swinging his bat at the first pitch.
Crack
! A long fly to center. It was caught and the game was over.

Blazers 4, Gators 5.

“That’s three games in a row we’ve lost, Coach Edson,” said Chris.

“The first was a practice game,” countered the coach, popping the baseballs into a blue bag. “Don’t worry. We’ll get going.”

“When?” asked Steve.

The coach looked at him. He zippered up the bag and rose to his feet. He was just a couple of inches taller than Steve.

“Steve, you think I don’t know what you and the rest of the boys have been saying about me?”

Steve blushed. So did Chris. They looked at each other, then at the other boys standing nearby, then at the coach.