Curveball Read Free

family.
    Eddie’s father was a lawyer, and his mother was a third-grade teacher. They talked all day long for a living. His older brother, Lenny, was a student across the river at New York University and was also thinking about going to law school. And his sister, Irene, was president of the junior class at Hudson City High School. So it didn’t figure much that Eddie wasn’t a talker, except that it was hard for him to get a word in at all in a household like that.
    It didn’t matter to him. Let the other people do the talking; he just loved to play baseball.

3
Instincts
    E ddie could feel the excitement building as the bus climbed Palisades Avenue toward the Weehawken field. Those four straight losses at the beginning of the season felt like a long time ago; this team definitely had momentum now.
    Outside the bus windows, the Hudson River was reflecting the sun. The George Washington Bridge loomed large in the distance. This stretch of New Jersey along the Hudson River was one of the most densely populated areas in the country.
    â€œFinally got some of that sunshine breaking through,” Spencer said to Eddie as the bus rolled into the parking lot. “About time, I’d say. Seems like every game we’ve played it’s been cold or drizzly. Or both.”
    Eddie nodded.
    â€œI need to get that warmth in the muscles,” Spencer said. “You know what I’m saying? More power.”
    â€œYeah,” Eddie said.
    Spencer stretched out his arms in front of him. “Be hitting that ball all over the place today, I think. Feeling good. You?”
    â€œSure,” Eddie said. “I feel good.”
    â€œTime to even up that record.” Spencer stood and stepped into the aisle. “Hammer that little ball over the fence a few times.”
    Eddie gave a tight smile and nodded again.
    â€œJust don’t tire yourself out with all that jabbering you’re doing,” Spencer said, rolling his eyes.
    Miguel leaned over from the seat in front of Eddie. “Yeah, Ventura,” he said. “Don’t you ever shut up? I counted six words out of you on the ride over here. That must be some kind of record.”
    â€œNo,” Spencer said. “His record for most words at one time is that quote he gave Calvin for the school paper the other day. That was, like, three whole sentences. Anyway, Eddie, I’m the one who hit the home run. What’s he quoting you for?”
    Eddie laughed. “I don’t know. Calvin had this deadline…. I just happened to be around when he needed me.”
    Â 
    Eddie had a poor day with his bat, grounding out three times and striking out once. But it didn’t matter, as the Hornets built a big lead early and pitcher David Choi was nearly unhittable.
    So all that was left as the Hornets took the field for the bottom of the seventh inning was to preserve the shutout.
    David was sweating heavily, but his pitches still had plenty of speed. He looked focused and confident as he struck out the first two batters. There was lots of chatter from the Hornets’ infielders.
    â€œMow ’em down!” yelled Miguel from his shortstop position.
    â€œNo batter,” called Lamont from second base.
    Eddie swallowed hard and swept his foot through the dirt in front of him. It had been a very routine day in the field for him. A handful of put-outs on throws from the other infielders, one easy pop-up that he caught in foul territory. And Weehawken had only had three base runners, so there hadn’t been much activity on that end, either.
    But he stayed alert. One more out and this one would be over.
    Ventura really sets the tone for this infield, the announcer’s voice in his head was saying. Always calm but always ready. The kid’s got Major League instincts.
    David went into his windup and delivered the pitch. The Weehawken batter swung hard but only managed to top the ball, and it bounced quickly toward the gap to