Date: Sun, 6 Mar 2011 02:47:29 +0000
From: Douglas DD DD <thehakaanen@hotmail.com>
Subject: The Perfect Game  Chapter 1: First Practice

This is the story of one spring with a middle school JV baseball team,
consisting of sixth and seventh grade boys. The emphasis is on the sixth
graders who made the cut and play on the team. This started out being a
baseball story with some sex hanging from it.  Instead, it seemed to morph
more into a sex story with some baseball hanging from it.  There is a lot
of action both ways throughout the story. So be warned, there is sex
between minor boys in this story, so don't read it if it bugs you or you're
not supposed to read such things. But there are also budding friendships,
romance, and of course, baseball, along the way.  This is not a write as I
go story---the story is finished and is over 50 chapters in length. So,
while I invite and want your comments, there won't be any changes to
accommodate reader ideas, now matter how good I think may be. That said,
both my pre-reader and my proofreader think I have opened the door to some
later spinoffs. If you come up with an idea for a spinoff during your
reading I will be more than happy to consider your suggestions. The story
is mine and cannot be duplicated without my permission.


CHAPTER 1
FIRST PRACTICE

Eric carefully tied the laces on his new baseball cleats. He was so nervous
he was almost shaking. Not only had his life turned upside down in the last
couple of months he was now going to add one more bit of stress to his life
by trying out for the baseball team at his new school. He checked to make
sure the shoes were tied just right, that his baseball pants looked good,
that his sweatshirt was loose enough to not be restrictive. He didn't want
the boys around him, most of whom were strangers to him, to think he didn't
know what he was doing.

He picked up his glove, the same one he had used last summer and was well
broken in, looking around the locker for his friend Scott. Scott was the
first friend he had made when he was enrolled in his new school last
month. He wanted somebody familiar with whom he could walk out on the
field.

Eric was 11 and in sixth grade. His father, an engineer and supervisor for
a power company, had applied for and received a promotion. The promotion
meant leaving the city in which Eric had grown up, leaving the friends he
had known through elementary school and the start of middle school and
coming to the small town of Mayfield where his father would be in charge of
the hydroelectric dam just up the river from the town.

His father had received the promotion in December and was set to start in
January. At first the plan was for Eric and his mother to stay in their old
house until school was out in June, but much to their surprise the house
sold as soon as it went on the market. The real estate agent had said plan
on six months to a year to sell it. But, the quick sale of the house had
changed all of their plans. Instead of enrolling in his new school the next
year as a seventh grader, he would suddenly show up in the middle of
February as a sixth grader, trying to fit in with new kids and not look out
of place.

Fortunately, the move from elementary to middle school at the start of the
school year had helped him learn ways to make new friends. While a quiet
kid, Eric had a friendly demeanor and once his peers got to know him they
liked him. But coming in new to a school with a lot of other new sixth
graders was different than having to fit into a small town and a closed
group in the middle of a school year.

But while he found the kids to be friendly and accepting, Scott was the
only close friend he had made so far. He lived only four houses away and
they walked to and from school together. They did their homework and
watched TV, played video games together, and sat at the computer with each
other. They planned bike trips on country roads to take when spring
came. While Scott had other friends, too, he and Eric had hit it off in a
big way.

Scott came up behind Eric. "Are you ready to play ball?"

"Well, at least practice it, anyway."

"We're lucky the weather is decent or else we'd have to practice in the gym
which would really suck." Turnouts started in mid-March, and the Northwest
was not known for its dry Marches. Or dry springs for that matter.

Eric looked at his friend whose somewhat unkempt brown hair stuck out from
under his baseball hat. He liked his friend's dark brown eyes and the light
sprinkling of freckles across his nose and cheeks. He knew that Scott was
always trying to control his thick hair, without much success. Scott told
him he had it buzzed last summer and during the start of the school year,
but didn't like it. He liked having hair on his head, even if he had to
fight it.

Eric knew how Scott felt. He had blond hair, thinner and even more unruly
than Scott's thick mane. He was always fighting cowlicks. He had blue eyes,
which he liked and, in his view, a way too skinny body on his 5'3" frame.
He wished his button nose would start to grow into a real nose so he would
quit looking like a little kid.

Scott had a great nose on him. He liked looking at Scott. In fact, he liked
looking at boys.  He'd done some "show and tell" with a couple of his
friends in his old school and got boners doing it, as did his friends. Some
of the showing part had gone as far as watching the other boy jerk off. As
he learned more about sexual stuff he couldn't help but wonder why it was
boys were giving him boners just by looking at them.

He suddenly realized where his mind was drifting and had to quickly adjust
his cup.  Marty, who was a seventh grader came by on his way out.

"Hey, Scotty, you gonna bring your new boyfriend out with you, or are you
guys just waiting for the locker room to get empty so you can make out?"

Scotty scowled at him. "Marty, you are such a loser. Why don't you go play
with yourself."

"I'll wait for Heather to do that for me tonight."

"You wish. And don't call me Scotty."

"Looking at you and how you moved in on the newbie maybe I should just call
you faggot. I'll be watching you guys from the varsity field by the end of
the week."

Marty went on out, laughing at the two sixth graders who followed
him. Scott just shook his head. "He thinks his shit doesn't stink because
he's in the seventh grade. Hell, he thinks he will make varsity. No way,
just like no way his girl friend is gonna get him off tonight. What an
asshole."

As they walked out, Eric thought about his chances of making the team as a
sixth grader.  He had played baseball or t-ball every spring and summer
since he was five, so he knew how to play the game. He knew he wasn't a big
kid, but he had noticed that he wasn't much different than most of the
other sixth grade boys turning out. The seventh grade boys were bigger, of
course, and as for the eighth graders—well, the ones who weren't cut
would be on the varsity anyway.

Scott had told him that last year's championship varsity team had been all
eighth graders and that this year's eighth grade class wasn't all that
interested in sports, and the ones who were interested didn't seem to be
very good. Nobody, from the coaches to the teachers to the underclassmen,
really liked the eighth grade class. So, the varsity would have a lot of
seventh graders on it leaving room for more sixth graders on the JV. It
would seem Eric had picked the right year to change schools.

Scott said that on top of all of that a lot of kids didn't turn out for
school baseball, preferring to wait for the summer programs because not
would there be no worries about being cut from the team, but the weather
was better. Eric could relate to that as they went outside into the gray,
gloomy, forty-five degree day. But he knew that if he made the team he
would truly become a part of his new school, and he also knew that if he
got cut, it would be hard to even come back to school at all. The last
thought just served to make him extra nervous.

The coaches had held a meeting for the players the week before. The sixth
graders knew that they were supposed to go to the JV field. The seventh and
eighth graders went to the varsity field.  There were fifteen sixth graders
on the field. The varsity field was too far away for Eric to be able to
count how many boys were there, but he knew it was a lot more than
ten. Probably more like twenty.

The practice was the most organized that Eric had participated in. There
were drills, drills, and more drills, and a lot of teaching. Looking at who
was on the field Eric helped to somewhat relieved. He knew right off he was
better than most of the sixth graders there and if he were going to be cut
it wouldn't be because he embarrassed himself by being lousy. If there were
going to be cuts he could tell almost right off the bat who would be the
first three to go. One of those was Noah, who he thought was really cute
(there he was, thinking a boy was cute---what was wrong with him?), but was
small and a year younger than the other sixth graders. He was, however,
surprisingly good and threw the ball hard around the infield.

Even though the weather was cold, the practice was fun and everybody was
kept busy enough to stay warm. They didn't take batting practice which
often lead to standing around. Coach Sanders, the head JV coach said they
would take their first batting practice on Wednesday.

When practice ended he trudged gratefully back to the school, walking along
side Scotty and Bobby, a sixth grader with bright red hair and a freckled
face.

"That was hard work," Eric said.

"Everybody says the coaches make you work hard," Scott said. "But then we
were the varsity champions last year, so I guess it all pays off."

"How did the JV do last year?" Eric asked.

"They were only six and six. But that was because this year's eighth
graders were last year's seventh graders. They're a whole class of dorks."

"You gonna shower?" Eric asked.

"Nah. I'll wait until I get home. I don't want to get all warm in the
shower and then get all cold again" Scott pulled on his
sweatshirt. "Coaches said we don't have to shower, so this time I won't."

Eric felt a stir of disappointment. He was hoping to see Scott naked. And
he sure wasn't going go shower alone and be the new kid walking around
naked when nobody else was.

"I'm gonna shower," Bobby said. "Half the time we are out of hot water at
home, especially if mom just did the wash. It sucks."

That got Eric's attention. If he showered he wouldn't be alone. As they
entered the locker room he started to undress, but Scott stopped him.

"Just leave your stuff on and walk home with me."

Reluctantly he agreed, but it was probably a good thing. He could feel
himself getting a boner, and having a boner in the shower would be really
embarrassing. But he couldn't help but take a look at Bobby, who had his
towel draped over his shoulder, seemingly uncaring who saw him in all of
his naked glory. His little hairless penis was so cute...shit, looking at
Bobby's dick and cute bubble butt go by was getting him to a full hard
on. Damn, it's not like he hadn't seen naked boys before, but suddenly it
seemed to mean something altogether different.

The varsity was noisily stomping in as Kraig and Kevin, who were identical
twins went by. Both of them had their towels wrapped around their waists,
but their mostly naked bodies looked, well, sexy to Eric.

What is wrong with me, he thought. I have a boner that won't quit. He got
boners with his friends in the city, but it was just something to point at
and giggle about. Now he wanted to do more than just play show and tell
strip poker, where everyone got to look at everyone else. He wanted to just
get naked with somebody, he wanted to look at their boner, to touch it, to
show his to them. Damn, he thought, I am crazy...nuts.

Some boys didn't shower because they were in a hurry to leave. Some didn't
because they forgot their towel. Others didn't because they didn't care and
though deodorant under their arms was all they needed. And some were like
Noah, unsure of themselves and their bodies, especially when matched up
against some of the more mature eighth graders.

Eric put his bat in his bat bag and turned it into the coach. The bats were
kept in a locked in a storage room for the team. He put on his jacket,
grabbed his backpack, and followed Scott out of the gym.

"Want to come over and do homework after dinner?" Scott asked.

"Yeah, that would be great," Eric said. He looked back at the gym wishing
he was in the shower with Bobby and the twins and whoever else was
showering. Well, there was always tomorrow, and maybe by then he could
control his ill-behaved pecker.

Next: Chapter 2. "Scott"

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