Shortstop from Tokyo by Matt Christopher Read Free Book Online Page A

and Stogie stood on first for his third hit of the game.
     Bob flied out to left and Beak stepped into the box, his bat under his armpit while he jiggled the helmet firmly on his head.
    Fats got two balls on him, then a strike, then threw two more balls. Beak walked.
    Two outs, two men on, and Tony Francis was up. No one had much faith in Tony’s hitting. He had knocked a single the first
     time up, and got on base by virtue of an error the second time. His luck couldn’t last.

    But it did. He singled to right, scoring Stogie, and Beak raced around to third. Tom Rolf singled, too, but it was a scratch
     hit, a slow dribbler down to third that advanced Tony to second.
    Russ Russo ended the big inning by grounding out to short. Rainbows 7, Mohawks 5.
    The top of the sixth. Each Mohawk was alive with spark and noise. He was going to make sure no ball would go by him.
    A smashing drive to short! Sam Suzuki got in front of it, fielded it neatly, pegged it to first. One away!
    A poke over first base! It looked certain to be a hit. Bob ran back … back … and caught the ball over his shoulder! Two away!
    “One more to get, Tom! One more!”
    A high smash to deep center! Daren stood a moment, not moving, as if he had lost sight of the ball. And then he stepped back,
     raised his glove, and the white pill dropped into it.
    “Man, Daren!” Stogie cried as he waited for the center fielder to come running in. “Thought you had misjudged that one for
     sure.”
    “I did!” said Daren, laughing.
    This was it. The last of the sixth. The Mohawks’ last chance. Daren was first man up. Sam, Fuzzy and Stogie would follow.
     Fats drilled a strike down the heart of the plate, then another. Daren sent the third pitch out to center, where it was caught
     for out number one.
    Coach Dirkus strode in front of the bench, clapping his hands. “Some life,men! Talk it up! Don’t sink into the dumps now!”
    They talked it up. “Blast it outa the park, Sam! You did it before, do it again! He’s the same pitcher!”
    Crack
! A line drive over Fats Cornell’s head and Sam stood on first for a single, his second hit.
    Fuzzy went the limit, three balls and two strikes, then struck out.
    “Keep it alive, Stogie!” yelled a fan. “Blast it!”
    Stogie waited for a good one. It came in. He cut hard and met the ball solidly. The hit was a clothesline drive over the third
     baseman’s head that went for a triple, scoring Sam.
    “Are you going to pay Fats after the game, Stoge?” asked Jim, who was coaching third. “That was your fourth hit.”
    “Pay, my eye.” Stogie grinned.
    Bob walked. Beak socked a double, scoring Stogie. The ball game was tied up! The Mohawk bench jumped and yelled. The Mohawk
     fans went almost delirious. The winning run was on third. But the bottom of the batting order was up. The poorest hitters.
    Tony waited out the pitches and got a walk! Fats, sweat glistening on his brow, drilled two pitches over the plate on Tom,
     and it looked as if the game would go into an extra inning. Then,
crack
! A blow over second! Bob scored! It was over! The Mohawks had done the impossible. They had come from far behind and won,
     8 to 7.

13
    Y OU CAME just in time, Sam!” cried Stogie. “If it weren’t for you we would’ve lost for sure!”
    Sam was grinning. “You did okay yourself! Four hits! Oh, man!”
    After the shouting died down and the crowd was moving out of the park, Stogie motioned to Sam. “Come here, Sam. I told you
     I had something to tell you about your old glove.”
    Stogie was with his mother and father and Jill. They all congratulated Sam onhis playing. Beak came running up, too.
    “What do you have to tell me?” asked Sam, his eyes flitting from one face to another.
    Stogie’s eyes were dancing. “Beak and I, we know what it was that ruined your glove. And it wasn’t me, Sam. I kept telling
     you it wasn’t.”
    Sam blinked his eyes. He moved his gloved hand behind him. “Who do you think ruined my