The Contract by Derek Jeter, Paul Mantell Read Free Book Online

practice he asked the coach about it.
    â€œI still haven’t made up my mind about anything,” Coach Kozlowski said. “I’ll figure out the lineup at home, and you’ll hear about it before the game on Wednesday, like everybody else. Meanwhile, be ready to play anywhere I put you.
    â€œThat goes for all of you kids, okay?” he added, raising his voice so they all could hear.
    Derek collected his things and jogged over to his dad, who was waiting in the family car. Mrs. Jeter was in the front passenger seat, still in her business suit and her high-heeled shoes. Derek knew his dad must have just picked her up from her accounting job.
    â€œSo?” she asked Derek. “How’d it go?”
    Derek sighed and shook his head. “To be honest with you, Mom, I don’t have the slightest clue.”
    â€¢ • •
    That was the thing. He really didn’t have a clue about where he would be playing in the opener on Wednesday.
    â€œI don’t know how he expects us to practice our positions if he doesn’t tell us where we’re playing till game time,” Derek complained at dinner.
    â€œWell,” said his dad, “you’ve got a point, Derek. But remember, it’s always up to the coach. That’s his job. Let him do his job, and you just do whatever job he gives you as best you can.”
    It was good advice, and Derek knew it. But it was one thing to know it was good advice, and another thing to take the advice. Besides, he didn’t quite trust Coach Kozlowski. He’d seen other coaches favor their sons to the detriment of the team. He’d even seen one father yell “I got it” when he was coaching third and his son was at bat, so that the opposing third baseman would let the ball drop—which the third baseman did, much to the embarrassment of the coach’s son. Some grown-ups had less sense than their kids.
    All that evening, as he tried to study for his math test, Derek kept drifting back in his mind to Westwood Fields, trying to picture himself anywhere but shortstop—and failing. At one point he looked up at his alarm clock and saw that it was already nine o’clock! Bedtime, and he hadn’t gotten through half the material he needed to review.
    Derek closed his textbook, got washed up, and went to bed. In the Jeter house, there was no staying up after your bedtime—as referenced in the contract. If you couldn’t sleep, you just lay there in the dark until you could.
    It was after one in the morning when he finally shut his eyes for the night.
    Derek had set his alarm for an hour early, so he could finish studying. But when it went off, he was so tired from lack of sleep that he just hit the snooze button. He wound up getting up at his regular old time, still groggy. It was too late to do any more studying. He was just going to have to get by on what he remembered from the past few weeks of class.
    â€¢ • •
    Ms. Wagner started the morning by handing back their class essays. Derek took his excitedly, only to find, to his dismay, that she’d given him a B-minus!
    â€œHow did you do?” Gary asked him, eyeing Derek’s paper. “B-minus, huh? Wow. That stinks for you.” He held up his own essay—marked with an A-plus, naturally. Derek seethed as Gary turned away and took his seat.
    Ms. Wagner said, “I just want to thank all of you—well, most of you—for your thoughtful responses to the essay question. I want to read out loud the list of everybody’s dreams, because I think it’s worth sharing.” She cleared her throat and began:
    â€œMaria Vasquez—nurse; Claibourne Preston III—investment banker; Josh O’Hanlon—attorney; LaShonda Martin—scientist . . .”
    Derek waited for his name to be called, dreading the moment and the reaction he knew would come.
    â€œDerek Jeter—starting shortstop for the New York Yankees.” The