Bring it on, Coach Frye. There’s not a jury in the world that enjoyed gym class.
Tiny sits down on the bench, itchy and restless. The other teammates sit on the bench, too.
COACH FRYE
comes out. He’s ugly and out of shape. You know those gym teachers who force you to do ten thousand sit-ups even though they themselves haven’t seen the lower half of their body in twenty years? The ones who blow their whistles like they’re the master and you’re the dogs? Yeah, that’s him.
COACH FRYE ( spoken ):
Alright, you pansies. I don’t want you to sissy up the field, understood? This isn’t a
softball
team—I want you unloading
artillery
out there. Billy, you’re up.
One of the boys leaves the bench and goes offstage. The kids’ eyes follow him. They start to cheer him on.
COACH FRYE ( yelling ):
Come on, Billy! Did your mom teach you how to hold a bat? This isn’t
gardening
. Wait for your pitch and
don’t just stand there
.
Then Tiny’s cheer drowns out all the others.
TINY ( exaggeratedly effeminate, even flirtatious ):
Hey, batta batta. THWING, batta batta!
BULLY PLAYER #1:
Idiot.
Our guy
is batting. You’re distracting him!
PHIL ( coming to Tiny’s defense ):
Tiny’s rubber. You’re glue. Whatever you say bounces off him and sticks to you.
BULLY PLAYER #2:
Tiny’s gay.
COACH FRYE:
Hey! HEY! No insulting teammates.
PHIL ( valiantly ):
It’s not an insult. It’s just a thing. Like, some people are gay. Some people have blue eyes.
COACH FRYE:
Shut up, Wrayson.
BULLY #1 ( loud whisper ):
You’re so gay for each other.
PHIL:
We’re not
gay
. We’re
eight
.
BULLY #1:
You want to go to second base . . . WITH TINY.
TINY:
Second base?
Tiny stands up and takes a step downstage, in front of the coach, who seethes.
“SECOND BASE”
is about to begin.
This is Tiny’s number, but everybody’s going to be looking at the boys in uniform. This should be the most homoerotically charged baseball dance number since “I Don’t Dance” in
High School Musical 2
. As Tiny sings, the guys in the chorus—including Phil—pull off a hilariously elaborate old-fashioned, high-stepping, highly choreographed dance, their bats used as canes and their ball caps as top hats. Midway through, half the guys swing their bats toward the heads of half the others, and even though it’s totally faked, when the other boys fall backward dramatically and the music cuts out, the audience is going to gasp. Moments later, they all jump up in a single motion and the song starts up again. (Or, if you can’t do all that, just make it fun.)
At first, Coach is startled. Tiny is taking over his team, winning them over with his song. Once he realizes this, he storms off.
At another point, Billy should probably run back from the batter’s box and join in. We wouldn’t want him to lose out on the fun just because he’s up at bat.
The key thing here is that, as should be obvious from the lyrics, Tiny has no idea what he’s talking about. He’s not identifying as gay to his teammates—he’s just asking a question. And it’s clear that he has no answer. He hasn’t thought about sex much. He’s eight.
[“SECOND BASE”]
TINY:
What’s second base for a gay man?
If you can’t tell me,
I’m hoping somebody can.
When I hit the field,
I want to know where to run.
Don’t want to be tagged out
before the fun’s begun.
What’s second base for a gay man?
Is it tuning in Tokyo?
I can’t see how that would feel good,
but maybe that’s how it should go?
CHORUS:
Hey, batta batta!
Swing, batta batta!
TINY:
Is it spooning or sporking?
Parabulating or torquing?
Hot or cold, fast or slow,
holding close or letting go?
CHORUS:
Hey, batta batta!
Swing, batta batta!
TINY:
Is it carnal or karmic?
Pastoral or tantric?
Is it Ontario or Saskatchewan?
Eyeing Iceland or petting Pakistan?
Send the answer in a bottle
or beam it in from outer space—
just somebody please tell me
how a gay man