Teamwork
by
Fred Narvey
I was the first baseman. I was always the first baseman because I was left-handed. This was a real advantage the boys told me. At the age of fifteen, I believed them. But the truth must be told. I was a lousy ball player. The boys put me on first base so I would be out of the way and couldn't do any harm.
You see, it was like this. We had the best pitcher in town, namely Harry Broverman, whom no one could hit. But no one! The only guys who ever reached first base were the ones that Harry walked. So I had a nice easy position.
Mind you, I managed to catch the ball occasionally during practice, but when it came to a real game, I had an awful problem. As soon as I heard the roar of the crowd, my knees would start shaking, my hands would start trembling. All I could do was pray, "Please, Harry, strike the bums out already!"
It was the top of the ninth inning of the final game. At stake was the championship of the Junior Division in the Rotary League. The opposition was up to bat and the score was 3 to 2, in their favor. This was the inning that would tell the tale.
Harry struck out the first batter in short order. The second batter was a 'cream puff' whom Harry always struck out. Then the impossible happened! The 'cream puff' hit the ball! A roar went up from the crowd and I got 'the shakes'. The shortstop scooped up the ball and whipped it down to first base like a professional ball player. To my everlasting shame, I dropped the ball!
"Safe at first," shouted the umpire.
The shortstop looked at me murderously. Harry Broverman didn't say anything. Harry never did say anything, but I knew that look of his which said, "Do I have to do all the work on this ball team, you shmo!" Captain Simon Listernick, our catcher, was spitting furiously in all directions, a sure sign that he was extremely unhappy.
The opposition must have figured out that I was the weak spot on the team because they put in a left-handed hitter. My hands and feet were still shaking from the last batter who was safe on first base. Now I had an additional problem. The Coca-Cola was pushing up the salami sandwich I had for supper. In my despair I put my hands together and silently prayed the same old prayer, "Please, Harry..."
Just then I heard the crash of leather against wood. The crowd roared and the runner on first base made a dash for second. All of a sudden the crowd stopped roaring and began applauding! I jumped on first and base and looked around to see what was happening. To my surprise I found the ball safely in my hands! A double play, and no one was more amazed than I. I walked off the field trying hard to look modest.
Nate Lepkin, our excellent left fielder, was the first batter for our side. He connected with a hard drive along the third base line that landed him a two bagger! Now if we could only get Nate home we could tie the score. If we could get another run on top of that, the game and the championship would be ours.
Unfortunately, I was the next batter. All my buddies shook their heads and said, "Oi vey" in unison. Captain Listernick spit east and west and muttered, "The no-hit wonder!" Could you blame them? I hadn't made a safe hit all season.
However the opposition weren't aware of my brilliant batting average so they took elaborate precautions. Since I was a left-handed 'hitter', the right fielder moved over to the first base line, the centre fielder moved to the right field, and the left fielder moved to centre field.
I picked up my bat and approached the plate, shaking from head to foot. The crowd began to shout and I missed the first pitch by a mile. "Strike him out! Strike him out! I heard from all sides. I silently vowed never to have salami and Coke again before an important game.
The pitcher wound up and let go. I closed my eyes and swung. The noise was deafening! When I opened my eyes, the ball was far out in left field and there was no one there to catch it! I would have fainted right there on the home plate but there wasn't time. Captain Listernick was spitting in my direction, "Run, Shmo, run!" So I ran.
When I got to first base, Harry Broverman, the pitcher whom no one ever hit was hollering from the sidelines, "Run, Speedy, run!" I rounded second base and was three-quarters of the way to third when our star outfields, Hy Smordin and his little brother, Benny shouted, "Schlemiel! Run back and touch second!" I skidded to a halt, raced back and touched second. My teammates were hysterical. "Keep going! Keep going!"
I was all out of breath but I ran to third base on my wobbly legs and jumped on the sack with both feet. The Smordin brothers were jumping up and down and shouting, "They are still searching for the ball in the tall grass!"
I staggered across the home plate and collapsed.