Chapter 9 Chapter nine

Not since that memorable day, not long ago, when I first stood up to address the board of Millennium Infinity, have I been more nervous. With all the pregame practice activities over and the Opening Day ceremony drawing to a close, everyone in Browntown's Little League field stood up to hear the national anthem playing from the PA system fixed to the top of the barbed wire fence. . Nearly three decades ago, during my last Little League season, the pre-game routine hadn't changed a bit in the decades since.By the time Bill and I arrived at the field and unpacked our team's equipment from the car, the first, second, and third base canvas bags were already in place along the infield diamond.The league designated the Angels as the home team for the opening game, so our dugout was located behind third base.

Bill jerked the bag open, and the boys on the team started tossing the ball to each other in the sideline.Yankees manager Sid.Max waved to us and came across the infield to shake our hands and wish each other good luck.The two teams practiced in the infield successively, with the Yankees practicing first.When it was our turn for the Angels, I went to third baseman Paul.Taylor, shortstop class.Rogers, second baseman Anthony.Zulo and first baseman Justin.Nurnberger hit three easy grounders.Their nervousness was palpable, yet none of the infielders caught me flawlessly the balls I hit in the past.Behind the team's players' rest area, pitcher Todd.Stevenson had already started pitching to each other to warm up with catcher Chariot. Behind the Yankees dugout, a solid left-hander named Glenn Glenn was working hard on pitching.Goldstein, I was very impressed with his performance in the test meeting, the level is not inferior to Todd.This opening game is likely to be a low-scoring pitching game.

The two referees finally stepped into the stadium through the gate of the wall separating the stadium from the parking lot.Both were wearing light blue shirts with open necklines, dark blue trousers and baseball caps.One of them was wearing a corset and mask.The two umpires came to home plate, nodded to Sid and me, and signaled us to come forward. After everyone shook hands, the head umpire in a corset said that there was only one special rule among the basic rules on the field.If an inbound ball lands in the outfield and bounces off the five-foot-high wooden home run wall, it counts as a double no matter how many times the ball bounces before it bounces.

Stadium announcer George.McCord, who served more than thirty years on WBZ and WBZA radio stations, was a popular morning radio host in the Boston area before retiring to live in the town of Bran, where he served as the Bran Little League announcer It's been years and everyone says the best free entry show I've ever seen is the Brandon Little League game.I just heard him praise the kids for their abilities, and he gave the names of the players on both teams, and they all sounded like Ted.Williams (Annotation: Ted Williams, 1918︱2002, the Boston Red Sox star of the American Major League in the 1940s, hitting outstanding left fielder, inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame in 1966. ) in the bottom of the ninth inning with two outs at bat.

After a face-to-face meeting with the umpires, George's husky voice, transmitted from his seat of heavy oak table and bench behind the wire fence at home plate, was heard introducing Stewart.Lander came on the stage, and Lander announced in a very noticeable tone that the forty-fourth season of the Brandon Little League was about to begin.He directed the Angels players, coaches and managers to line up outside the third base line, and the entire Yankees line up outside the first base line.Then he asked Todd of the team.Will Stevenson be willing to step up to the mound and lead the two teams to take the Little League Pledge?

Todd turned to me with a look of surprise on his face, but after I patted him on the shoulder, he ran to the center of the field with a small trot, his left hand took off his hat, and his right hand was placed on his chest.At first his voice trembled slightly, but after a while it was almost overwhelmed by the other twenty-three eager and energetic voices. I trust in God.I love my country and I will respect the laws of the country.I will play fairly and try to win.But, win or lose, I will always do my best. After reading the oath, our Angels players turned around and returned to the rest area according to the instructions.After everyone was seated, I also sat down on the top step of the stairs in the rest area, and said to everyone: Well, everyone, we have been practicing hard for several weeks, and today is finally here.Everyone just needs to concentrate on the game, shoot and catch the pass as you did in practice, I know you will have a good performance.We are a very good team.Now, everyone, go out there and prove to everyone that we are the best team in the league!

We never give up!Little Timothy burst out the words. Yes, Todd agrees.We never give up! Never give up, never give up, never give up!The whole team yelled and the referee nodded towards us and pointed to the court. Well, everyone, Bill shouted, let's go to battle and beat them to pieces! Amidst the applause, cheers and whistles from the audience, the Angels starting lineup took their positions. At this time, the American national anthem began to play on the field. Every player of the two teams stood facing the flagpole located deep in the middle field and held on to the baseball. The hat rests on his chest until the national anthem dies down.

Todd threw another eight or nine warm-up pitches at the tank, and then the umpire walked to the front of home plate, turned his back on Todd, and bent over to clean the plate with a brush.Then he returned to his position in the back of the chariot, donned his mask, adjusted his corset, and yelled it's game on! I decided not to say anything to Todd until he was on the mound.In the warm-up before the game, he shot well, and he looked at me like he said, everything is under control.Whatever I say may do him more harm than good by distracting him.I went into the dugout and sat down next to Bill and three backup players, Chris.Lane, Dick.Andros and Timothy.

Bill, I said, I can't believe the crowd.It's Tuesday afternoon, and it's only five o'clock, and the place is almost full.In a small town with only about 5,000 people living, nearly 1,000 residents come to watch a Little League game?It doesn't seem like it's true. John, in our town of Bran, such things can happen.If you look carefully at the stands, you will find that many parents who care about their children have come, and there are also a large number of retirees. Most of them are unwilling or unable to go out in the hot weather.Little League games have become an important part of town life.At the beginning of the season, everyone will choose a team to support, and cheer for it throughout the season.It gives a lot of people something to do, a place to hang out, maybe a reason to wake up in the morning and get out of bed, things like that that most people desperately need.

A reason to wake up and get out of bed in the morning?A man is never unable to get out of bed unless he no longer has the desire to get up.Oh, I know that very well!I turned to Bill, but he was looking out of the dugout towards home plate, expressionless.I patted his knee without saying a word. Timothy.Nobel has already reached the top step of the stairs in the rest area.His thin voice suddenly echoed in the arena, overwhelming the noise of the audience.Come on everyone, you can do it!Never give up, never give up! The new sand around the pitcher's plate seemed to cause some trouble for Todd. He walked the Yankees' first bat with a walk and then stabilized. He followed up with two ground balls and a strikeout. famous hitter.When our players left the court and returned to the dugout area, I asked Chris who was sitting on the bench.Lane called out and asked him if he would be the first base coach.Without a word he hopped off the bench and trotted across the infield to first base.From my position as the coach at third base, I gave signals to the hitters and runners, such as whether to bunt, whether to hit the next ball, and whether the hitter should try to steal a base.Bill.West had previously promised to monitor the situation on the field in the rest area, and at the same time arranged the lineup according to the scoring record, making sure that each child had a certain number of games.

In the second half it was our turn to attack, the first bat Anthony.Zullo got a four-bad walk, and I immediately decided to test the strength of the Yankees' catcher.The league stipulates that a runner must wait until the ball is thrown and comes to the hitter before leaving the base, so the Yankees pitcher went to the team's second batter, Justin.As soon as Nurnberger hit the first pitch and it was a strike, I touched my left elbow with my right hand and signaled Anthony to run for second base the moment the second pitch hit home plate.Justin, who was on home plate, also received my signal and swung hard at the ball to distract the pitcher when Anthony stole the base.Oops!The ball was already waiting for Anthony when he slid to second base, and we knew right then and there that the Yankees had a good catcher and a solid pitcher.What happened next, as is often the case after a base-stealer is shut out, Justin hit a clean single to right field, but PaulTaylor struck out and it was Todd's turn.The big man swung a lob to left field on the first pitch, and the left fielder scrambled, and it seemed he was lucky enough to catch a shot just over his right shoulder just before he hit the home run wall. The ball made a sensation in the audience.Luckily he was just a little dazed, but he fought hard to catch the ball, and the crowd gave him a well-earned standing ovation as he ran across the infield to the Yankees dugout. Both teams tied for zero in the second game, but Robert.Murphy hit a beautiful double toward the right field line, and JeffGaston ended the team's offensive in this round. Never give up, never give up!Timothy.Noble automatically became our cheerleader.Standing at the far right of the dugout, he kept repeating his favorite adage, dancing and clenching his fists as his teammates urged him to continue, chanting with them: Never Give up, never give up! After the third inning, the two teams were still tied at zero. Our fielder was ready to play for the fourth inning. I replaced three substitute players as planned.Chris.Lane replaced Anthony.Zullo at second base, Dick.Andros replaced Robert.Murphy guards left field, Timothy.Noble replaced Jeff.Gaston played right field.The three substitutes were responsible for playing the fourth and fifth innings.The main starters returned to the lineup in the final game. Todd seemed to get stronger with each inning he pitched.He struck out three batters in the yankees fourth inning and the yankees ace gursden was almost on par with him and two of our hitters struck out and the third batter hit the infield toward first base fly ball.In this game, four out of six games have been played.Still no credit.It seems that today's battle is more and more likely to be decided by a single-point breakthrough. In the fifth inning, the first hitter of the Yankees slammed the ball into the direction of third base, our third baseman Paul.Taylor put the ball down and did a good job, but before he picked it up and passed it to first base, the batter was safely on base.The next batter strikes out, but the next batter hits a strong pitch that breaks the guerrilla zone defense.Shortstop class.Rodgers swoops in, catches the ball in the glove, jumps up, and throws a quick pass to Justin at first base.The audience applauded!The batter was shut out with a close call, but the runner who had been on first base slid safely to second base without difficulty.At this moment, one of the Yankees was in the scoring position, and two were out. The next one to go to the strike zone was the Yankees pitcher Gusden, standing in the left hitter position, and the hitting power was as strong as the pitching. Bill leaned over to me and whispered, John, if you know any prayers, pray now.I remember, when this kid came up to bat last season, every pitch went to the right field line, and he was strong! Immediately I jumped up, yelled a timeout, and walked over to the third-base line, waving for Timothy to move back toward the fence, and closer to the right-field line.Finally I held up my hands, palms out, and he stopped.Bill nodded as I ducked back into the rest area. Todd threw the first pitch toward home plate, a sizzling fastball.Without hesitation, Goldsden slammed the ball high with a swing of the club and headed for deep right field. Oh, my God, I heard Bill say. Timothy took a few steps back, staring up at the night sky.Finally, he turned around and raised his hands above his head. The ball reached the highest point of the parabola and was about to start falling. He was right under the ball, Bill yelled, and we both stood up.Come on, kid, you have to catch it! The ball fell with exasperating slowness.Timothy hesitated, then took another step back, his glove stretched high, but the ball seemed to bounce off the frayed edge of the glove's fingers, landed on the turf behind him, and rolled toward the fence.When Timothy finally caught up with the ball, the Yankees scored a run, and Goldston stood on third base, waving his hands in the air, and the audience applauded.Todd let the next hitter strike out, but the Yankees were already leading by one run. I could see tears staining Timothy's face as he came down the steps of the rest area.I opened my mouth to speak, but he just looked up at me, shook his head, and then ran to the far end of the rest area.None of the team members spoke to him or approached him, but there were several angry glances cast over him.Sometimes children can be cruel too.After the entire team sat down on the bench, Bill rose to face the group.He waved the scorebook in his hand and said, "Okay, everyone, next, the first three batters are Lane, Andros and Noble.We have six more chances and are only one point behind.This game is for everyone, let's defeat the opponent together! Chris.Lane hit a limp infield fly in the direction of the pitcher, and DickAndros was struck out, and it was Timothy's turn.Noble walks to the strike zone.The teammates who had yelled at Chris and Dick to come on earlier suddenly fell silent.Standing in the strike zone, Timothy tugged on his pants, which looked too big for his small frame.He dug shallow dimples with his sneakers and hunkered down slightly, waiting for his swing.Goldsden's first pitch, a fastball from the inside corner, nearly hit Timothy, but Timothy didn't back down at all.He slammed the next two curveballs off, stepped out of the strike zone, took a deep breath and rubbed his hands into the dirt.Then he took another deep breath and stepped into the strike zone, his bat cocked the way we did in private practice.Goldsden was taking his time in preparing to swing when he pulled his forearm back and unleashed a fastball.Timothy's swing was smooth, but the ball landed in the catcher's mitt with a loud thud.He walked slowly back to the rest area, carefully placing the bat in his hand next to the row of bats, and returned to the far corner, biting his lip. In the sixth and final inning, the Yankees went up and down again, but the Angels' hits didn't do much either.Anthony.Zullo hit a fly ball straight over second for a single, but Justin and Paul both hit infield lobs, and Todd's deep fly was the last out of the game. Todd threw a fine pitch and allowed only one fortuitous hit, yet his outstanding performance was capped by only one loss. All right, everyone, Bill yelled as the team assembled in front of the dugout.Let's line up and congratulate the Yankees on a great game.Next, please come back here and sit down in the rest area. It only takes a few minutes.I know your parents are waiting to pick you up, so it won't be too long. According to the regulations, the players from both sides must shake hands with each other, say each other well, and after saluting, the Angels return to the rest area.I've never seen them look so quiet or subdued, and I reminded the team that there is another game on Thursday, and everyone will be much better then.Before I could go any further, however, Todd jumped up, unzipped his thermal jacket, and turned around to walk to the end of the lounge area, where Timothy sat with his face covered.The rest area fell into silence for a moment.Todd bent forward, put his hands on the shoulders of his short teammate, and said loudly: Hey, brother, don't blame yourself.Even major league superstars make mistakes.We were just unlucky today, right?This doesn't mean we gave up.We never give up, right?never give up!the same as you!OK? Timothy looked up at Todd with tears in his eyes.He nodded and replied in a low voice: Good. Now I don't need to say anything more.Guys, our next game is against the Cubs, Thursday at five o'clock.Please gather here at four o'clock, the pitcher scheduled to play is Paul.Taylor.See you all on Thursday. On the drive home, I replayed the game in my head, and the thought of the ball bouncing off the edge of Timothy's glove and rolling toward the wall made me feel very distressed for Timothy.Then another game popped into my mind, it was my second year in Little League, when I was ten years old.I made two turnovers on second base, and both turnovers gave my opponent a run.In the end, because of my mistake, the old Angels team I belonged to lost 1-3.Long after everyone had left the field, I came out of the dugout to the turf behind second base, fell down on the ground and cried.I don't remember how long I sat there, but I was too embarrassed to go home and tell my dad what happened.Finally, as it was getting dark, I saw the shadow of an old truck pull into the parking lot, its headlights scattered by the wire fence.After a while, I heard his familiar voice, full of love and tolerance, saying to me: John, it's time to go home. When I finally stood up, I suddenly hugged my dad, sobbing and crying.He just said: It doesn't matter, it doesn't matter.Hell, we have our moments when things don't go our way.nobody is perfect. Suddenly I hit the brakes.It was almost home, but I pulled the car closer to the curb and turned around and headed back to the course.By the time I parked, stepped through the opening in the fence, and walked toward home plate, the twilight of the evening was fading into the night.I heard the cries and laughter of children from a nearby playground, but our ballpark was almost deserted.He sat in the shadows on the grass deep in right field, his legs crossed under him, his elbows on his knees, his head bowed low forward.I walked slowly towards him and stopped about ten feet away. Timothy, I called. His head jerked up.What's up?He said, squinting his eyes and looking in my direction.are you OK? Um. Don't you think it's time to go home? He shrugged. Timothy, why are you still here? have no idea.I figured, if I was sitting here in right field, where I missed the ball, I guess I'd be able to figure out how I missed that ball and cost everybody the game. So have you figured out the answer yet? He shook his head, and I heard a muffled sob.Suddenly, I thought of one thing. Could you show me your gloves? He frowned when he heard the words, then reached out and touched the bottom of his right knee, and then threw something to me. It was the most worn out and most useless baseball glove I had ever seen in my life. The old leather cover was dry and hard. There are thousands of cracks, and the padding on the palms and fingers is almost gone.Also, the mesh ball between the thumb and forefinger is no longer there, and someone has replaced a few clothesline staves in its place. I flicked the glove back to him and said, That thing should go to the baseball museum.Maybe it's Joe.DiMaggio (Annotation: Joe DiMaggio, 1914︱1999, in the 1940s, the New York Yankees' offensive and defensive star in the major leagues of the United States, the defensive position was in the middle field, nicknamed the Yankee Clippers, 195 Inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame for five years.) What about the gloves I used as a kid. Nope, Timothy replied, with a brief smile on his little face. I bent over him and held out my hand to him.He took my hand and I pulled him up to his feet and said: Don't you think it's time to go home? I think he sighed. I pointed to his old glove.I think your problem is with it, the glove.Without good tools, things are hard to get done. The boy tapped the top of the glove softly.He was obviously too embarrassed to explain my suspicions that his single mother didn't have the extra money to buy him new gloves.I tug at the visor of his new Angels blue baseball cap, emblazoned with the letter A in gold.I said: Timothy, I have an almost brand new Mr. Strawberry Daryl in the closet at home.Strawberry [Annotation: Daryl Strawberry, 1980s to 1990s American major league star, defensive position is right field. 〕Gloves.That's that's that's my son's but he doesn't have a chance to use it.It's hanging there to dry now.I'll bring it to you on Thursday. He stared at me nervously.Your son died, didn't he? That's right, he died. I regret. I just nod.Well, maybe it's better for you to show up early on Thursday afternoon so we can practice passing and catching the ball a bit and get that glove started to play, okay? He nods.Thank you, I'll be there sooner.I'm sorry that I caused everyone to lose.I hope other people don't hate me too much.I feel terrible, but I'll try harder, I swear. You never give up, don't you? He nodded and grinned.never give up! very good.Now, let's go home before dark.Does your bike have headlights? He nodded. OK, see you on Thursday, come early. Good night, Mr. Harding. As I opened the car door, Timothy pulled up next to me on his bicycle, the little headlights perched on the handlebars, shining a bright beam on my side.Mr. Harding, can I ask you a question? sure.go ahead.How did you know just now that you could still find me at the stadium? I wasn't sure what to say to the kid, but I ended up answering him like this: I don't know, Timothy.I think maybe my dad told me that you should be here. oh. The bicycle turned, and the beams of the headlights began to slowly move out of the parking lot.Before the beam of light had left my sight, I heard a small voice calling: See you on Thursday, Mr. Harding!