Batting Ninth Read Free Page A

as well. A kid didn’t want to hear his mother yelling “Sweetie” from the bleachers after he struck out. Mom didn’t realize a ballplayer had a reputation to hold up. This time, though, I was sure I would get a hit, and I wanted Mom to see it. Dad wouldn’t believe me.
    I rushed into my room and grabbed my game jersey. Again, I paused and looked at Dad’s trophy case and the empty green patch in the middle. Maybe one day I
will
fill that space, I thought.
    The game with the Hornets started slowly, and we both batted three-up and three-down in the first inning.
    Our best pitcher behind Danielle was Ryan Ramsey, the coach’s son. In the top of the second, the tall left-hander walked a batter but kept the Hornets hitless. The score was still 0–0 when we came to bat.
    Even though Coach Ramsey never used the same batting order twice, I always batted ninth. The way this game was going, I thought I might not get to bat until the next inning.
    But the heart of the order came alive, and we quickly scored three runs. I walked to the on-deck circle with no outs. I was going to bat!
    Our left fielder, Lucas Sanders, popped out to the second baseman. I stepped to the plate with one out and a runner on third. I might actually get an RBI, I thought. Concentrate—just make contact.
    I stepped into the batter’s box and glanced at Mark standing next to the bench. He pointed to his eyes just like in practice.
    “Count the stitches,” he mouthed silently.
    “Here we go,” shouted Jimmy Lee from third base. “Drive me in, Chad!”
    The Hornets pitcher stood on the mound, sighed deeply and looked to his teammates for encouragement.
    “No batter!” the shortstop yelled. “Throw it down the middle.”
    Just like the shortstop said, the ball came right over the plate. But I wasn’t about to swing at the first pitch. The umpire called it a strike before it even hit the catcher’s mitt.
    “See, no batter. He’s not gonna swing!” another kid yelled.
    Just watch, I thought. I
am
a batter, and I
am
going to swing. I stayed in the box and waited for the next pitch. The pitcher suddenly looked more confident.
    “Same pitch!” the kid yelled from the Hornets bench.
    I fixed my eyes on the ball. The kid was right on the last pitch. I was going to be ready for it again.
    The pitcher grimaced as he let go, and I could tell it wasn’t the pitch he wanted. This one was a lot slower than the last one. In fact, I could almost see a couple of stitches! I readied my bat and chopped at the ball with all my strength.
    “Ping!”
    I dropped my bat and sprinted down the first base line. In the corner of my eye, I saw the shortstop field the ball and make the long throw, beating me by a step. I threw my head back and stopped a few steps short of right field.
    “Way to go, Chad!” Mom yelled.
    At least she didn’t call me Sweetie, I thought. Apparently, she didn’t realize I made an out. But, when I turned around, Jimmy Lee was high-fiving the rest of the team. My first RBI of the season! It wasn’t a base hit. But a sacrifice with an RBI was the next best thing.
    I ran back to the bench, shrugging off my teammates’ congratulations. Mark met me at the end of the bench and patted me on the back.
    “There you go!” he said. “I told you it would come around.”
    It felt good, but I didn’t want to make too much of a groundout RBI.
    “I should have beaten it out,” I said.
    Mark shook his head. “You didn’t beat it out because you hit it so hard. It was a laser to the shortstop. He just made a good play.”
    A laser! If the Hornets shortstop hadn’t made the play, the ball would have been in the outfield. I might have even stretched it into a double.
    We didn’t score any more runs in the inning, and we took a 4–0 lead into the third.
    However, the Hornets scored three unanswered runs. By the time Coach Ramsey brought Danielle in to pitch the sixth inning, the score was 4–3.
    Danielle struck out the side, though, and we won