The Submarine Pitch Read Free Page B

from his mind and went over to read the roster.
    Bill Conley — shortstop
    Ed Masters — right field
    Deke Smith — first base
    Buzz Ames — left field
    Tom McDermott — second base
    Rudy Sims — center field
    Chuck Haley — third base
    Fred Button — catcher
    Bernie Shantz — pitcher
    Chris Morgan, the Atoms’ pitcher, had an overhand delivery that reminded Bernie very much of the way he used to throw. But
     Chris’s pitches could thread a needle. Nearly all of them were teasers, thrown near or below the batters’ knees. In the top
     of the first both Bill and Ed struck out and Deke grounded out to short.
    The teams exchanged sides, and after a few warm-up pitches Bernie toed the rubber and winged in his first submarine pitch
     that anybody had ever seen besides Frankie and Dave.
    A soft, surprised cry broke from the Atom bench.
    “Hey! What kind of a pitch was that?” one of the guys exclaimed.
    “I don’t know. I’ve never seen him throw like that before,” observed another.
    Bernie got two balls and two strikes on the leadoff batter, Ralph Benz — who stood in a deep crouch at the plate — then struck
     him out. As the infielders whipped the ball around the horn, Bernie felt his heart pound. One down, two to go.
    Jim Hayes, the Atoms’ second batter, waited out the pitches till the count built up to three and two. Then he too swung at
     a high sweeping pitch and whiffed.
    Hank Dooley, the Atoms’ left fielder, got a piece of the ball and beat out a scratch hit to third. Then Mark Pine, the Atoms’
     big gun, let two strikes go by him and swung at the third, missing it by a foot.
    Bernie heard the hum rise among the Atom players as he walked off the mound. His heart was still pounding, though not as hard
     as before.
    His own teammates showered him with words of praise. The coach shook his hand, grinning. “I don’t know what you’re throwing,
     kid,” he said, “but whatever it is, don’t lose it.”
    But the voice that he heard when he was near the dugout was the one that really mattered.
    “What did I tell you, Bernie?” Dave called. “Huh? What did I tell you?”

4
    B uzz Ames singled to center, scooted to second on Tom’s sacrifice bunt, and scored on Rudy’s smashing drive through short.
     The Ranger bench yelled as if the 1–0 lead were the straw that would break the Atoms’ back.
    They picked up two more runs when Fred belted a double, scoring both Rudy and Chuck, who had walked on four straight pitches.
     Then Bernie popped out to second and Bill fanned to end the top half of the second inning. Rangers 3; Atoms 0.
    Bernie’s second time on the mound was almost a replica of his first, except that hehad only one strikeout instead of two. The pitches that were hit were a pop fly to Fred and a dribbler to the pitcher’s box.
    It was weird. The pitch was turning out a lot better than Bernie had expected. When he came off the field he looked up and
     saw a beaming smile on Dave’s face — and of course on Frankie’s, too. He was sure that there weren’t any guys more proud of
     him at that moment than those two.
    The Rangers garnered four runs during their trip at the plate, then went out on the field, bolstered with the confidence that
     a seven-run lead can inspire. Bernie wondered how Dave was enjoying it. Of course he had to be. This was what he expected,
     wasn’t it?
    Jim Hayes tried to slaughter the first pitch and tripped over his legs.
    “Strike one!” boomed the ump.
    Jim tried it again. “Strike two!”
    And again. “Strike three!”
    The ball made its quick rainbow hops around the horn.
    “What’s he throwing?” Bernie heard Jim say as he returned dejectedly to his bench.
    “You just batted against him,” replied one of his teammates. “You saw it.”
    “Yeah, but…” That’s all Jim had to say.
    Mark Pine, the Atoms’ center fielder, seemed to have a better idea. He waited out Bernie’s pitches, but at the two-two mark
     he swung and managed to meet