Sue Corbett - Free Baseball

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Table of Contents

TO THE BASEBALL MEN IN MY LIFE,
CONOR, LIAM, AND TOM
AND TO
MIKE VEECK.
WITHOUT HIS MIRACLE,
THE ONLY BASEBALL MAN IN MY LIFE
WOULD BE MOOKIE.

free baseballn. term for a game that gives fans more than they
technically paid forextra innings or the second
game of a doubleheader.

THE CRACK OF THE BAT

The place on earth Felix Piloto loved best was a spot of red dirt two-thirds of the way toward third from second. Deep in the hole, his body folded nearly in half, his mitt dangling so close to the ground it blocked its own shadow.

Which is why it was so unusual that he was wishing he was somewhere elseso out of character for him to be caught off guard when a high chopper nearly clipped him in the chin. Felix was good at anticipating the odd bounce, but hed been distractedlooking at the sun, instead of at the platetrying to figure out what time it was and how soon he could ask to leave.

Plus, the Tigers were supposed to be practicing dead-fish bunts, ground balls that traveled just a few feet before rolling into no-mans-land out of any fielders reach.

JAKE! WHAT IN THE NAME OF THE BAMBINO WAS THAT? Coach Drew threw his hands in the air.

Even after first bobbling the ball, Felix fired to the bag in plenty of time to throw out Jake.

Coach Drew showed the first baseman his open mitt, signaling him to throw the ball. Jake! Have you ever seen a dead-fish fly?

Jake scuffed the dirt in the base path, trudging back to the batters box. Dad, I tried to deaden it!

Lets go over this one more time, guys. Coach Drew took off his black cap with the big orange T and smoothed his hair. He always did this to calm himself down. The two boys who batted before Jake had failed to lay down decent bunts either. What do you call a bunt hit into the air?

An out, a few of the guys mumbled.

Flex your knees, square your shoulders, TAP the ball. Not SWING at the ball. TAP the ball. Coach Drew turned to face the infield. Felix, whats that saying again?

Ugh, why did I ever mention this? Felix asked himself. Dele un beso, he shouted, bracing himself for the taunting he knew was coming. Sure enough, he heard Carlos and the others squeak out kissy-face noises from the bench. He smiled and turned his backside toward them, showing where they could put their kisses. That set off the usual round of hoots, too.

De-lay oon bay-so. Coach Drew turned the words around in his mouth, like he had a sunflower seed stuck in his teeth. Give it a kiss. Felix, show them how to do it one more time, please.

Felix trotted in, flinging his mitt to Jake who tossed it to Carlos. He picked up the bat Jake had dropped and crouched into his stance. Coach Drew threw him a fastball. Felix turned toward the mound and loosened his grip, letting the bat slide a little in his palms. He aimed the bat so it met the ball head-on with a gentle smack, shooting it into the grass between the mound and the third-base line.

It dribbled to the edge of the turf and came to a complete stop.

You guys see that? Coach Drew had given this speech before. That is a perfectly executed bunt! That gets you on base every blasted time.

Felix didnt bother running it out. Nobody had even tried to field the ball. Coach finally walked a few steps to his right and cupped the ball into his glove.

Coach? Felix was hoping he had earned a little time off for good behavior, as Coach called it, because he wanted to get home as soon as possible.

Your dad teach you how to do that, Felix?

No, his mother! somebody on the bench shouted, and the kissing noises started up again.

Ha, Felix thought, like Mami would ever teach me anything about baseball. Will she even come to any of my games this year? Okay if I go now? Ive got a ton of homework.

Get out of here, Felix. Time off for good behavior, he said, saving his growl for the other Tigers. Carlos! Take Felixs spot at short. Jake! Get back in the batters box and start kissing these baseballs!

Felix stuffed his glove into his backpack and slung the heavy sack over his narrow shoulders. He had a brick at the bottom of the bag because he was trying to build up his shoulder and arm strength. He could bunt all right. But he wasnt much of a home-run threat.

Felix was only a little sorry about the white lie he told Coach about his homework. He never asked to leave baseball practice early, but he had a date with the radio.

For the past couple of weeks, Hot 102 had been giving away tickets to the season opener of the hometown team, the East Naples Egrets. The Egrets were a mediocre team in the Florida League. In baseball terms, playing for the Egrets was one step above playing for East Naples High School, but it was the first rung, the bottom rung, on the ladder that led to the Major Leagues.

The Egrets arrived in East Naples just the year before, when the town built them a new stadium at the edge of the swamp. The stadium had an official name that had something to do with a bank, but the newspaper had nicknamed it The Birds Nest, and that caught on. Felix was dying to see it, but his mother either had to work or had a class or was too tired or out of money. She always had an excuse.

Felix thought the real reason was that she just didnt like baseball anymore. She used to. Or so she said.

Getting a ticket to an Egrets game was not hardfree general admission tickets could be had for three proofs of purchase from HealthNut Wheat Bread. But Felixs mother bought Cuban bread from the panaderawhite bread with a crunchy crust that Felix loved. And these other tickets were within his reach. He just had to win the call-in contest.

So every afternoon, hed been racing home to turn on the radio, listening intently for the crack of the bat. That sound was the signal to call in. He had tried to win for two weeks already, putting the radio stations number on the speed dial. He kept the portable phone near his right hand, next to his math book. But no matter how quickly he grabbed the phone and hit *9, all he heard at the other end was a too-fast busy signalbzz bzz bzzthe kind of noise you hear when the other phone is out of order.

Felix let himself into his empty house and turned on the radio before putting down his backpack. The aroma of the frijoles negros his mother had put in the Dutch oven before she went to work made his stomach rumble. He got a spoon from the drawer.

He was blowing steam off a spoonful of beans when he heard the crack of the bat. He put the spoon in his mouth, leaped for the phone, and pounded *9. He was puffing short breaths on the foodhuh! huh! huh!because it was way too hot to eat, when he was startled by the sound of the phone ringing at the other end of the line.

Felix swallowed the food quickly. It scorched his throat as it went down. He thought he might die. He hopped up and down to take his mind off the pain.

HOT 102! YOURE OUR NINTH CALLER! YOURE GOING TO OPENING NIGHT AT THE BIRDS NEST!

Felix had run to get a gulp of water from the faucet, trying to cool off his mouth so he could speak.

"WHOS OUR LUCKY WINNER? The silence had gone on a beat longer than it should have.

Felix looked at the radio, as if he expected to see Len Randy, the announcer, there in the flesh. His reply would go out over the air. Radio waves would carry his voice across Florida and the Caribbean, perhaps as far as Cuba, where he was born. Would his

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