Date: Sat, 20 Jul 2013 23:05:50 -0700 From: Douglas DD DD Subject: Diamond Dreams Chapter 40 Thank you for returning to the Mayfield Trilogy. I appreciated all of you who have stuck it out through this coming of age baseball epic. All of the usual Chapter one disclaimers apply. Please, be safe, and donate to Nifty. This chapter covers the Mustangs' season during the sophomore year of Eric's class. Dallas tries Marty's patience, but Marty thinks he knows who can help him deal with the young teen's constant relapsing. You can contact me, Douglas, at thehakaanen@hotmail.com. CHAPTER 40 WINNING WAYS [ERIC] Today ended eight straight days of clouds and rain. Actually the rain quit yesterday at around ten in the morning, but it stayed cloudy all day. Today we got some sunshine. I knew exactly what I wanted to do that afternoon. I got out of bed early like I usually do, being careful not to wake up sleeping beauty lying next to me. Noah was an early riser, too, but we had an agreement not to wake each other up unless we had a reason to. I went across the hall to the bathroom, started up the shower, and stepped into the warm stream. I also let out a warm stream of my own, as I often got a stupid thrill from pissing in the shower in the morning. Call me crazy if you want, but that's the way I am. Noah was awake when I returned to the room. He moved his gorgeous naked carcass out of bed and stretched. God, he looked sexy doing that. "Were you satisfied last night?" he asked. "How could your beautiful ass not satisfy me?" "I was just making sure." I got to admire that beautiful ass as its owner made his way out the door and to the bathroom. There was no doubt in my mind I was the luckiest fifteen year old boy in the entire world. We both slipped on t-shirts and lounge pants and headed downstairs to see what was happening for breakfast. Eggs, bacon, hash browns, toast, and orange juice was what was happening, and it satisfied both of us. My mom was a great breakfast fixer. "Are you going to call Kevin?" Noah asked as we ate. "That's my plan." And that is exactly what I did a couple of hours later. Kevin is not an early riser. After lunch, I grabbed my bucket of baseballs in the garage and took it out to my pitching area at the very back of our property. Dad and I had constructed a small pitching mound with a rubber. I took my home plate shaped mat and placed it 60 feet 6 inches away from the rubber. There were a few ways I could use our setup. We made a target that I could throw to, which I could erect behind home plate. Sometimes I threw to dad, sometimes to Noah, and sometimes to Scott. But the best setup was me throwing to Kevin when he was in full catcher's gear, because then I wouldn't have to hold back. Dad, Noah, and Scott wore a catcher's mask when they squatted down to catch my pitches, but it wasn't the same as throwing to Kevin. That was what I did that afternoon and the next afternoon as well. While many of us got some throwing in during bad weather at the school gym under the supervision of Coach Hart or Coach Sanders before school, it wasn't the same as throwing outdoors. Pitching from my mound was the best practice for me. Scott threw on Sunday, too, and we got a lot accomplished. I was totally ready for baseball turnouts to start. All of us knew that even though our team would be made up of mostly juniors and sophomores, we were going to have a kickass baseball team. We were ready to start the season and prove it. Plus, we all wanted to prove to Mayfield that Coach Sanders was a great coach after what had happened during the summer. In August, some of Coach Collins's "good old boys" buddies petitioned to have Coach Sanders replaced. Their petition complained that in his two years he had posted only a 24-23 record. It said that he'd chased off talented upperclassmen so he could play his favorite players, rather than field a team capable of competing at a high level. The mass suspensions for alcohol use during his first year were mentioned, even though the administration backed those fully. By backing, I mean they dropped the interim label and made Coach Sanders the permanent head coach. The petition asked that Coach Collins be reinstated in order to bring Mayfield Mustang baseball back to the highest level. From the way dad put it, Mr. Wilson, the principal, Coach Fitzsimmons, the athletic director, and Dr. Benson, the school board president, pretty much laughed the "good old boys" out of the school after getting the petition. Coach Sanders was given a new vote of confidence. Plus, Coach Sanders finally got to transfer to the high school as a teacher, replacing a math teacher who retired. [NOAH] I left my last period class at the bell. It was the day of our baseball meeting with Coach Sanders. This was the meeting where we got all of the paperwork our parents needed to sign and the rules were read and finally something inspirational might be said. I headed for my locker to dump the books I didn't need and to pack my backpack with the books I did need. I was hoping to run into Eric, but no such luck. I stopped off at the boys' room to take a pee and then headed for Coach Sanders' classroom. The halls were already emptying as most of the students were heading out the door to catch a bus or walk home while it wasn't raining. On the way, I was stopped by Michelle and Trish who were heading for their softball meeting, which was going to be in one of the gym classrooms. They proudly showed me the necklaces they had exchanged with each other for Valentine's Day. "What did you and Eric get each other?" Michelle asked. "Cards," I said. Michelle just shook her head and said, "You boys are not romantic at all. Kevin and Lars exchanged baseball cards, if you can believe that. Kraig and Hunter got pizza, and Justin and Todd did nothing. The only ones even a little romantic were Rich and Marty." "What did they get each other?" I asked, as if I really cared. "Matching boxers with hearts that they wore on Valentine's Day." "Those are gay boys after my own heart." I admit I was a little surprised when I heard that. I would have sworn Kevin and Kraig would be the ones into the underwear exchange. I thought Eric and I getting each other a really nice card, which is what we agreed to do, was perfect. I didn't want to get into all of the Valentine's Day stuff with those two girls, so I didn't say anything. I told them their necklaces looked nice and that we were going to be late for our meetings if we didn't get booking. I ended up having to stop for one more thing before getting to the meeting. Steve and Crawford were standing and arguing outside of Coach's room. There was nothing new about them arguing; they did it a lot. In the end Steve always won, and Crawford went back to following him and licking his butt for him. It was a very strange friendship. It was all about Steve, which was true of everything that surrounded that butthead. Crawford followed Steve everywhere and jumped as high as Steve told him to jump. We were surprised last spring that he didn't quit baseball when Steve did. It wouldn't surprise me if Steve took Crawford's ass every chance he got, which is probably what made Steve so homophobic. "Why the fuck are you going into that meeting?" Steve asked Crawford. "Not a single senior is turning out to play with that bunch of fairies." Steve had let his hair grow long and he was sporting a raggedy beard. Everybody said he was really into drugs. I know he was missing a lot of school. Steve not turning out for baseball was no big loss. "I just want to play baseball," Crawford said. I had heard that line before, only it was from back when our group was having its problems and looking like it was going to split up. "What a crock of shit. You'll be watching from the bench while that faggot plays his favorite little fuck buddies. If you go in there, I'm gonna be really pissed off at you." "Then get pissed, because I'm going in" I started moving again and nicely timed myself so I entered the classroom right along with Crawford, passing Steve along the way. Steve gave me a look that said if it wasn't for Connor he'd be more than happy to rip my head right off of my neck. The way I saw it, Steve was not only a loser, he was a coward as well. Coach Sanders closed the door right after we came in, telling us we had been on the verge of being late. "You might want to time yourselves better in the future," he said. I think he just said that to impress the freshmen since he knew I was a very punctual individual. "I'm glad you're turning out, Crawford," I said as we found a seat in the front. Nobody ever wanted front seats, whether it was in class or in a team meeting. Front seats simply didn't rate. But, when one is the last to enter a room, there is often no choice. "I was afraid Steve was going to stop me. I'm glad you came by." "Don't let that butthead run your life," was all I said as Coach Sanders got the meeting started. It went just like I said it would. We all got packets of paperwork for our parents to fill out, he and Coach Hart told us what the rules would be, and we got that little inspirational talk. What Coach Sanders told us was, that we were young, but the juniors did have a year of varsity experience and the sophomores (meaning my class) had put together a great JV season last year, and some even got a little varsity experience. "I expect this year's varsity to be good. There should be no half of a season in which we tell each other we're growing and having a learning experience. That was last year. This year we develop winning ways. I expect us to be at the top of the heap to start and for us to stay there. You are a talented group. Many of you learned how to play at the varsity level last year, and at end you learned to win at that level. This year you build on that by showing you are one of the best and that you are a team to be feared." I'll tell you this. He got my adrenalin going. I was totally ready to start turnouts right then. But I had to wait for a few days until baseball started for real. A new kid turned out for the team. He was a freshman and his name was Blaine. He didn't get off to a good start at the first practice when he showed up on the field wearing his hat backwards. That just wasn't done in Mayfield, at least not on a baseball field. Since both the JV and varsity squads were practicing together to begin with, Blaine had to face the wrath of Coach Sanders. Coach Hart, the JV coach, was a good coach and strict and all that, but he did not carry the clout that Coach Sanders carried. Nobody did. "Turn your hat around, please, son," Coach Sanders told him politely. Blaine probably got away with stuff like that in Seattle, which is where he came from. I heard from Justin and Toby that he was not happy to have moved here. He enjoyed spending his time playing the role of asshole, saying how much he hated Mayfield and Mayfield High School and everybody here. But he was turning out for baseball, which had to mean he had some redeemable qualities. When he didn't turn the hat around, Coach Sanders turned up the heat a little, telling him again to turn his had around, but leaving out the word please. When that got him a smirk, Coach Sanders said very calmly, "You know where the door to the gym is and you know where the front of your hat is. So, you can find one of them and move it 180 degrees, or you can turn your entire body 180 degrees, head for the door and go home. Your choice." Blaine gave Coach another smirk, but he did turn his hat around. While everybody thought that Blaine was a total asswaffle, just the fact he did what he was told was an indication that Blaine really did want to play baseball. I told Eric that after practice and he agreed. "But, I think he's going to be trouble. He doesn't seem to want to fit in." Eric ended up being partly right. While Blaine ended up not being trouble, it wasn't until the summer after his sophomore year that he made any attempt to fit in. [MARTY] "Damn, Dallas, I swear you are hung over." The little thirteen year old was meeting with me in my apartment. He was supposed to meet with me every Saturday, but he wasn't great at doing it. I know how that works—I wasn't real great at meeting with Mr. B when I was thirteen. "It was the start of spring vacation. What, I'm not supposed to go to a party? I wasn't going there to get drunk or nothing, it just happened." "Didn't we talk about going to slippery places?" "There was nothing fucking slippery about it. Everybody there was my friend. It's not like when I went to Randy and Rocky's and everybody tried to stick his fucking cock up my ass." It seemed strange to hear Dallas cuss in his high pitched voice. He could easily pass for ten or eleven, and that included in the junk department. Not that I have sex with him, since that isn't what our relationship is all about. I mean he's cuter than hell, but I meet with him to see if we can get him to stay sober for longer than thirty days. So far, no luck on that front. I've told Dallas to strip and get into my shower more than once. His mom and whatever guy she was living with didn't seem to pay much attention to his personal hygiene, and he didn't pay much attention to it either. He might be a little dude, but he could create a big stink. This afternoon wasn't one of those times. It was when he undressed for the shower that I'd see him naked, He wasn't shy about being naked in front of me, or anybody else for that matter. "We need to meet with Mr. B and get you going to meetings again, especially the young people's meeting in Olympia." "Fuck Mr. B. I don't even like him. I don't trust nobody who don't know how to cuss." "Trust me, he knows." "Yeah, he just don't do it." "Rocky cussed I bet." "What does that have to do with anything?" "Did you trust him?" "No, but only because he kept raping me. I mean, I don't mind getting my ass fucked, but I got tired of being his fucking little boy ho. So, just cause somebody cusses don't mean I trust them either." "Who do you trust?" "I trust you," he said quietly. "But I'm not doing much to help get you sober." "You said trying to get me sober keeps you sober, so what the fuck, you're sober. Who gives a shit if I am or not?" "I do, for one. Since you don't want Mr. B to be your sponsor, I guess we need to find you a different one. You need somebody who can drive you to meetings. I got an idea for one." "Who?" I told him. "Him? He's a fucking pervert." "But he cusses a lot." A while later Dallas agreed to go with me to Mayfield Café to meet the guy I had in mind. I'd already talked to him about meeting with Dallas, anticipating Dallas's objections to Sparky. It hadn't been easy to get the man to agree. "He's a mean little fucker who's got no respect for anybody, including himself," he said. "So, doesn't that mean he's ready for you to help him? He sounds like an alkie to me." "You know, you can be a big fucker who pisses me off." He and I have talked often since the first time I went to him for help. "But you know you love it," I said. And that is how we ended up sitting at a table in a corner of the café with The Schnoz. Dallas sat next to me, with Milton, The Schnoz, sitting across from him. "Okay, I came. Can I go now?" Dallas asked. "After you have something to eat," I said. "Why should I talk to you?" Dallas asked The Schnoz. "You're like the school perv." Milton didn't flinch. "You should talk to me because I saw you so damned drunk at school you could hardly stand up two weeks ago." "You didn't tell me about that time," I said to Dallas. "Fuck you. I don't got to tell you everything." He looked at Milton. "Like you did anything about it. You probably wanted to take me to that stinky room of yours and fuck my ass because you know I was too drunk to say no." "I did do something," Milton said, ignoring Dallas's comment. "I told the fucking counselor, Mrs. Do Nothing. Said you were a drunk who needed help. That woman wouldn't know an alcoholic if he walked in and pissed on her desk." "I think I like you," he said, changing his tune some. "That bitch don't know shit at all. I bet I could light up a joint and blow the smoke in her face and she would think it was one of those nice smelling party candles." "You want my help or not?" Milton asked. "As long as Marty is my sponsor." "I'll be your junior sponsor. You need The Schn...um...Milton to really work with you." "And I ain't gonna work with anybody who isn't going to do the fucking work himself," Milton said. Dallas didn't say anything for a long time. I could almost see the wheels turning in his head. "Last night was the shits," he said quietly. "I got so drunk and stoned I don't remember crap except my butt was sore this morning and I woke up naked with Carter Rowe, who is an asstwat. I got lots of crap from everybody for giving him my ass and two other guys my ass and for being so fucked up I couldn't get out of bed to pee, and I'm tired of being..." "Being what, Dallas?" I asked. I knew what he was about to say. "Being a whore," he said quietly. "Carter gave me ten fucking dollars, which was more than other assholes, if it was true they actually fucked me." Dallas glared at Milton, saying, "Okay, you can help me, but don't fucking come on to me or I'll kick your ass to tomorrow and break your big, ugly nose." "I'm going away tomorrow," Milton said. "I'll be gone until just before school starts back up. You talk to Marty every day and stay clean until then. On the first day of school, you meet me in my little office after you eat lunch. I'll have a book for you." "Fuck that book shit. I ain't reading no books. Ask Mary." "Then don't bother showing up." "Up yours, too. I'll think about being there." I will say this much for now. Dallas did show up, not just that day, but for the rest of the school year. I'd be willing to bet there was more cussing in those meetings each day than in the whole school. But Dallas stayed sober to the end of the school year. I helped him, too, especially when he got mad at Milton, which was often. But you gotta give Dallas credit; he kept going back for more. After getting that drama out the way, I went home and flopped on my bed. I was mentally drained. Mr. B knocked on my door and I told him to come in. We talked about Dallas and Milton. He thought pairing the two was a good move, although he didn't give it much chance of working. "Dallas isn't ready," he said. "He still loves to party, especially after getting that asshole, Rocky, or whatever his name is, out of his life. You were sick and tired of being sick and tired. What I hear from Dallas is that he says he's tired of it, but I really think that's all talk. I don't think he's really sick of who he is. He hasn't hit his bottom yet." I told him I didn't entirely agree with him. A big reason I didn't agree was because I really wanted the cute little bugger to succeed, but I didn't tell him that. Mr. B left and I lay back on my bed and thought about how the baseball had started off. We had talked a lot about winning ways, but as so often happens, winning is much easier to talk about than it is to do. Not that we were terrible. We were 6-2 for the season and 3-2 in league, which really is pretty good when you think about how young we were and everything. Both of our losses were to the top two teams in the league, Lakeshore and Kentburg. We lost 6-4 to Lakeshore and 4-1 to Kentburg. Of course, it was Ben who shut us down for Kentburg, beating Scott. We had one kind of fucked up incident. Our first game was against Mountain Ridge Baptist at home. A couple of their players told us they heard we had a bunch of gays on our team. They said there was no way we could beat them because God didn't like gays and so he would punish us by making us lose. Well, Rodney, who is a long way from gay, gave up three hits over the six innings he pitched. He left with a 5-1 lead, making it too late for them to get to Rich, a gay boy and my sexy boyfriend. Five to one ended up being the final score. That was a really sweet win. The Nooner would be coming up on Wednesday, and that is always a big deal here in Mayfield. We were scheduled to play Mason High School, which is out somewhere past Bremerton. They're supposed to be pretty good, but then so are we. That night, after all the Dallas shit that happened, my little bro came over to the apartment after dinner. He was almost eleven and was becoming more and more horny, and more and more sexy. Now that he was figuring out sex, the Hurricane couldn't get enough of it. Three dry cums by him that night as we jerked each other off, dry humped, sucked, and did a lot of kissing and cuddling, probably tells the story. I got off twice, once over Jeff's face and chest, and once in his mouth. "It was Jeffrey three, Marty two," he said as we cuddled naked to get to sleep. Like I was counting...okay, I was counting. "You're getting to be an old man with only two cums." "You can talk when you start squirting, sport." "When are you going to fuck me," "In your dreams, boy. Ask me again when you're a teenager." Of course, he would ask me a lot of times before then and end up losing his cherry just before he turned thirteen. The ballpark was close to full by noon on Wednesday, as it always was for the Nooner. The noon game on spring break Wednesday was a long tradition and the citizens of Mayfield took it seriously. It was not unusual to see a "Closed for Nooner" sign on the doors of many businesses. And even if a business was open, the owner would attend the game, like Gary of The Bear's or Bob of Bob's Burger Barn. Noah was excited that he would be suiting up varsity for the game. He was one of six sophomores who rotated between the varsity and the JV. He, Gavin, Carl, Danny, Hunter, and Lars would bounce back and forth depending on the needs of the varsity or the player. The coaches had Lars play some JV so he could get more pitching in. Noah usually suited up varsity when Eric was pitching so he would be available to play second base. When the varsity and JV played on the same day, which was the case for all the league games, two of the sophomores would suit up JV and the other four would suit up varsity. Eric, Kraig, Kevin, and Scott were the only sophomores who played exclusively on the varsity. Since the Nooner was a non-league affair, all of the sophomores would be in uniform for the game, although they all wouldn't be playing. Eric would be the starting pitcher for the Mustangs. The Mason Ospreys were an excellent team, having the kind of program Mayfield traditionally liked to play at the Nooner, namely a winning one. The day was cold and blustery with a threat of rain. Occasional drizzles plagued the contest. Eric struggled with his control on the windy afternoon and went only four innings, giving up four runs. Vince and Lars finished up as the Mustangs suffered a tough 5-4 defeat with Eric getting the loss. It was a rare Nooner loss for the Mustangs, giving the detractors of Coach Sanders another reason to be upset with him. The six weeks from March 13 to May 1 saw eight players on the Mustangs celebrating birthdays. Vince, Rodney, and Jerome all turned seventeen in that time span, while the twins, Lars, and Hunter turned sixteen. Noah, who was younger than his classmates because he skipped a grade, had his fifteenth birthday. While each boy had his own individual birthday celebration, Noah held a big one for all eight birthday boys at his house on Saturday, April 30. Eric's was celebrated as well, even though his birthday wasn't until August. While the air was cool, the pool was warm. It was filled with eight high school athletes along with twelve year old Nicky, who was almost overcome by the sight of so many swinging adolescent cocks. Rodney didn't swim because he'd been sick for much of the week. He sat on a chair on the pool deck, wearing a hoodie and jeans. "Too bad your sister couldn't be here," Rodney said to Noah. "It would have been great to see her in the raw again." Lisa and Shane had gone to Tacoma with Noah's mother for a music competition. That was bad news for the straight boys who wanted to see Lisa naked, but actually good news overall since Noah's mother might not have allowed them to skinny dip if Lisa had been home. At one point the boys started comparing pubic hair, of all things. It was Nicky who got that started since, having just turned twelve, he had none. He was curious about who had the most and the least and asked them all to stay still long enough for him to judge. They all kidded him, telling him that he was a total twelve year old pervert. "I'm close to getting pubes," he told them, "I just want to see how it's going to end up looking on me." "Are you going to get them before your boyfriend?" Kevin asked. Kevin knew that Nicky and Jeffrey had a thing going. "I better; I'm over a year older than that little dork." After his close inspection, which included running his hands through a few pubic nests to test thickness, Nicky decided that Jerome had the most, including ball hairs and butt hairs. He named Vince next, then Hunter, Rodney, Kevin, Kraig, Eric, Lars, and Noah. Rodney had reluctantly opened his pants to show Nicky his wares. Sexual games with other guys generally didn't interest him. "It looks like somebody got a boner being the judge," Jerome said. Eric had only a line of hair at the base of his cock, and no hair on his balls. Lars had wispy hairs and Noah had scattered hairs. "I bet I have more hair than Noah has now by the time I'm thirteen," Nicky declared. "Well, two of the hairiest guys on the team aren't here," Rodney said. "Connor is right up there with Vince. Marty's got a thick bush over his dick, but not much anywhere else." Connor was away somewhere with his uncle, while Marty had a commitment with his adopted family. Nicky was even more pleased when Eric, Kevin, and Lars agreed to go to the cabana and jerk off with him. He asked for Lars to demonstrate how he sucked his own cock and Lars gladly obliged. "I wish I could do that," Nicky said as he watched. "Chandler is getting his in his mouth almost as far now. He's going to be fourteen pretty soon." "Where did you see him suck himself?" Kevin asked. "In school." Kevin grinned. "You must have snuck past The Schnoz." "I learned that from you, Korey, and Chandler." "Some traditions never end," Eric said. "I hope The Schnoz got a thrill from watching you guys go by." Nicky giggled as he told them how Korey wanted to flash him as they went past his cubby hole. "But he ended up chickening out," Nicky said, somewhat disappointed. He didn't have to say that he was as chicken about doing it as Korey had been. "I wish one of you guys would fuck me," Nicky said. "Noah still won't and I'm working on Shane." Nobody was able to respond to his request because Noah came in and told them it was time to eat. As they ate, the topic changed from sex to baseball. The Mustangs were now 11-5 with an 8-4 record in league play. They had clinched a spot in the league tournament and would be jockeying for seeding over their final two games. Eric's two straight shutouts were a big topic. The slender sophomore had shut out Monte at home on two hits, holding them hitless into the fourth before giving up a two-out double. He had Kevin getting excited again about catching a no-hitter, but the double quashed the hopes of any late game pitching heroics. But Eric's four-hitter against Kentburg at Kentburg may have been an even better start. He walked nobody and struck out eight as he dominated the Royals with his precise location and lively fastball in a 2-0 win. What made the win even sweeter is that he beat his sophomore rival, Ben, who made a big mistake when Marty hammered a hanging curveball out of the park in the third for a two- run homer. That was all of the scoring that Eric needed. "Everybody wants to tell me I'm the best sophomore pitcher in the league," Ben said to Eric after the game. "But they all live here in Kentburg. You're just as good, and sometimes I think you're even better than me." "All I know is I love pitching against you," Eric said. And I'd love doing something else against you, too, Eric thought. He had a bit of a crush on the handsome sixteen year old. "We should make it a rule that when the Mustangs play the Royals we have to start," Ben said. "I wouldn't argue with that." The Mustang players talked about their game on Thursday against Meadow Park. Rodney had missed the game after being sick with the flu for most of the week and Scott couldn't play because of a sore knee. Lars, Vince, Kraig, Jerome, and Rich all pitched, none of them very effectively. But the Meadow Park pitchers were not any better, and the game turned into an old fashioned slugfest, with the Mustangs prevailing 14-11. They all agreed that it had been a lot of fun hitting the cover off of the ball and playing in the back and forth contest, but they wouldn't want a steady diet of that kind of game. Rodney ended up being named as the starting pitcher for their Tuesday game at home against Harborview. A decent crowd of students, parents, faculty, and interested townsfolk turned out for the afternoon game. Rodney ended up not being as strong as he had felt in Monday's practice and was not sharp. He gave up five runs in four innings of work and the Mustangs ended up losing to the Harborview Tugs for the second time that season. The final score was 7-5. The win by Harborview put them a game behind the Mustangs for third place. The fourth and fifth place finishers had to play each other to get into the league tournament. Third place was an important place to finish since the third place team went directly to the double elimination part of the tournament. The loss to Harborview might have been their most disappointing of the league season. The Mustangs weren't real worried about their last game. They were playing Clark Pass at home on Thursday, and the current Mustang players had never had any problems with the Eagles going back to sixth grade. They didn't have any problems in this game either as they took care of Clark Pass in five innings by an 18-2 score. The Mustangs regular season was over. They had finished in third place with a 9-5 record in league and a 12-6 record overall. They would be playing the second place Kentburg Royals Friday night and Eric was slated to pitch. This year's league tournament was scheduled to be held on the Mustangs' home field. [COACH SANDERS] After our last league game, I had to admit I was pleased with how our season went. I know the boys weren't, but I didn't expect them to be pleased. I had given them a goal to reach from the start, which was the goal I knew they wanted. However, while we were a very talented team, we were still young, with only one senior, and he wasn't a full- time player. When coaching school ball, one quickly finds out that a year of maturity makes a huge difference, and this group was still a year away from being one of the elite teams. I was looking for this team to be in the mix for a postseason berth, somewhere between third and fifth in our eight team league. We finished third, which said a lot about both the talent level and the determination of the team. The boys expected to be an elite team, and felt a bit unfulfilled that they weren't. I wanted them to end the season hungry. I didn't want them to think they'd become as good as they were going to be. I made no excuses for their not being in the top two, but in the end it was all about our youth. At the start of postseason baseball I wanted us to step it up a notch and go as far as we could. I didn't see us having the maturity to make it all the way to the final four in Pasco, but I expected us to move up to Districts, and maybe even advance to Regionals. Since we finished third in the league, our first game in the league tournament would be against the second place team, our archrivals from Kentburg. On the urging of the coaches, the tournament matchups would change next year. However, for us to go to Districts this year we would have to win at least twice and could only afford to lose one game. Scott and Rodney had both started this week, so Eric was my only choice to start the tournament opener against the Royals. While Rodney is the team's most talented pitcher, Eric might be the best pitcher, even as a sophomore. That is saying a lot because I thought Rodney was one of the top pitchers in the league. Even though he is a junior, I've received a few inquiries from small college coaches, many of them also asking about Eric. Eric had totally shut down Kentburg two weeks ago, so I was confident he could handle the veteran team. And handle them he did, going six innings while giving up four hits and a run. He wasn't as spot on as his other start, but no pitcher at any level of baseball pitches at that level of excellence every time out, and that would be especially true of a high school sophomore. We didn't have to face the Kentburg super-soph, Ben, this time. Instead we went up against a senior pitcher who gave up two long RBI doubles to Marty as we ended up with a 5-3 victory. I could write volumes about Marty, but I won't do that here. I will just say that no player has lodged himself as deeply into my heart as that boy has. He has grown so much over the last couple of years, going from an angry fourteen year old, often smelling of alcohol and pot, to a team leader, an honor roll student, and an example that no young person should ever be written off as a total loss. By beating Kentburg on Saturday we had the privilege of playing Lakeshore, the regular season champion. The Sunday game was for the league tournament title and a trip to Districts. Since Rodney now had enough days of rest to pitch, I named him the starting pitcher. The league tournament was taking place on our field, so Gary, the owner of Pooh Bear's Pizza, said that win or lose, Saturday pizza was on the house for the team. That included the coaches, so of course the coaching staff showed up. I'm sure that put a crimp in the style of some of the freer spirits. "You know, coach, winning the league is nice," Rodney said as we ate, "but this is where it really counts. I'm totally recovered from whatever I was sick with and ready to beat those Sentinels." That is exactly what he did the next day, going all seven innings in a 3-2 win. I had Crawford, our lone senior, pinch-hit for Rodney in the fifth with a runner on second. Rodney was a great pitcher, but for whatever reason, he was the stereotypical pitcher—that is, a lousy hitter. Crawford had come out for the team carrying a lot of personal baggage, most of it because of the company he kept; in particular, Steve. But he maintained a good attitude, worked hard, and never complained about not getting a lot of playing time. In other words, he was another kid who had grown up some. It was nice to see him laughing and kidding with his teammates at the pizza parlor. I knew he had problems with the gays on the team, but he either ignored his prejudices or decided to be rid of them. Marty and Rich had become two of his closest friends on the team, and from what I knew of their history, there had been no love lost between Crawford and those two since they were in middle school. It is amazing how sports can help attitudes change. It was Noah who put things in perspective for me a few weeks after the season ended. He told me about his incident with Steve in the boys room when he was a freshman. "Crawford kept Steve from kicking the...um...crap out of me," Noah said one afternoon when he, Eric, Kevin, and Lars rode out to my place for a visit. "Connor later set everything straight, but Crawford was there when I was on the floor and really scared. So, maybe he's never been as bad as you thought." "At least he got smart enough not to hang with Steve any more," Kevin said. "Now that dude is the definition of a fucktard...and sorry for the language coach, but it's true." When Crawford came up to bat, he managed to work a 3-1 count and line a run scoring single up the middle. He had only had five hits all year in limited playing time. None were as big as that one. He definitely earned his keep in that at bat. I would say that hit was the highlight of his high school baseball career. By beating Lakeshore, we won the league tournament and earned a berth to the District Tournament. I was very proud of my young team. They were peaking at the right time. Districts started the next weekend. I picked Scott to pitch the opener for us, which was against the Beachwood Geoducks, who ended our season in last year's Districts. Scott was a very good hitter and an excellent fielding first baseman, but he was an enigma as a pitcher. He threw harder than any pitcher on the team, but he didn't always know where the ball was going to go. He had problems slowing the game down and keeping himself under control. When he pitched well, he had control of his pitches, but there were times that no matter how hard he threw he thought he had to throw harder, resulting in his losing command of his pitches and getting wild. I worked hard with him to maintain his poise when he was pitching. Most of the time he did, and Kevin was a big help during a game. But sometimes he just seemed to want to be super pitcher. I think by the time he is a senior he will learn to harness that energy, but right now, as a sophomore, I had to deal with a lot of ups and down. I could only hope the good Scott would show on Saturday. [SCOTT] I didn't get to pitch in the league tournament. That was because we won both of our games, so we didn't need to have a third game. I was hoping I'd get the call in one of the first two District games. It would really suck to not pitch at all in the playoffs. Coach doesn't name his starting pitcher until the practice before a game. You can beg and cry and do whatever, but he's been the same way since I pitched for him in sixth grade. And once he makes up his mind, that's the way it is; unless somebody gets sick or hurt. After practice on Tuesday, I walked home with Cindy Cameron, who waited around for me. She plays on the girl's softball team, but they didn't make it to the playoffs this year. So she sat up in the bleachers with Mary Alice and watched our practice. "I'll drop you off at your house," I said when I met her outside the gym. "When baseball is done, maybe we can walk home after school." She took hold of my hand. She knew that meant that we might be able to make out after school before her parents got home. We've made out some since we started going steady, but during the season it's hard to find the time and a place to do it. One way Cindy is different than Tama is she doesn't mind getting naked to make out and she doesn't think she owns you just because you're going out with her. I bet she wouldn't even mind if I made out with Eric or some other guy, even though I don't do that much any more. After that time Danny fucked me, I've messed with him and Carl some more and with Danny and his little brother, Troy, a couple more times. That was fun with his brother. We both showed him about BJs and I watched Danny take his cherry. I don't think Troy liked it much, but he did want to try fucking me. I said I don't do that and he didn't push it. Danny told me that Carl gave his butt to Troy, so Troy knows what it's all about. But I'm into girls almost totally now. Sometimes I do it with guys when we really need to get off. Eric is so loyal to Noah we don't do anything together any more. I think he wants to and I think I want to, but we just don't do it. Anyway, we got to Cindy's house and did some French kissing on the porch and I got to feel her boobs. I really want to fuck her, but we haven't done it yet. She does everything but fucking. That puts her ahead of Tama, but I'm kinda tired of the fact that all of my fucking has either been with my sister or with a guy. I'm almost a junior and it sucks I haven't gotten laid yet. "Tama wants to go out with you again," Cindy said when she broke off our long kiss. "She can't get anybody else to go out with her. With her looks I'd think guys would be in line to go out with her." "Well, that happens when you're a bitch." "Scott, that's not nice." "Maybe not, but it's true and you know it's true." I kissed her again and then said, "And you're pretty fucking good looking yourself." I kissed her one more time. "When are going to go all the way?" "How about this summer when we got lots of time?" "That sounds great to me." And it did sound great. I was totally happy when I walked from her house to mine. I think this whole business with Cindy is getting real serious, which is cool because I really like her and I know she likes me. Plus, she likes my friends. I don't care what Tama thinks she wants, I wouldn't go out with her again if she was the last girl in Mayfield. Besides, Cindy is my girlfriend now. Cindy waited for me after the next three practices. The third one was on Friday and that was when Coach said I was starting the game Saturday and Eric was starting the next one if we lost, since it would be our second game of the day. I was really happy, and Cindy knew it. What I didn't tell her is that getting the news that I was starting the first game in Districts was almost as good as the news that I was gonna get laid soon. Maybe it was better news, since it was closer and seemed more real. I know everybody thinks I gotta stay in control of myself when I pitch. They tell me that all time. Eric is always the one in total control when he's on the mound. I just can't be like that. At least Coach Sanders doesn't run off at the mouth making Eric into an example, but sometimes my teammates do and even my mom does. Rodney is pretty cool and in control, too, but he's a junior, which I guess is supposed to make a difference. That's just not the way I am. I try, but sometimes I want to win so bad I forget to slow down and do what I know I'm supposed to do. I just want to go out there and throw, especially when things start going bad. I know I throw hard and I love to strike guys out, but damn, sometimes I like to strike them out too much. Kevin gets pissed at me sometimes on the field. I mean not, like, totally angry pissed; just he comes out and says to slow it down and not try to strike everybody out. That helps for a while. But sometimes everything just fits for me. I don't get mad at me or Coach or Kevin and I slow down and think. That's when I pitch my best games. I just can't figure out why I can't do that all the time. In those games I'm not as in control as Eric or Rodney, or even Rich when he come and pitches in relief. I mean I gotta have some emotion out there, but still, I know I need to not let it control me. Saturday was one of those games where everything fit. We played the Beachwood Geoducks. I mean if I can't beat a team called the Geoducks who am I gonna beat? I don't care how good they are, and they are good, they just sound like losers. We lost to them last year, but that was last year. This year, they're toast. [COACH SANDERS] Scott had it all together in our first game in Districts. He not only pitched seven outstanding innings, he hit a homer and a double, driving in three runs as we won 8-2. The win meant we had to play Lakeshore again. They were the second team from our league to qualify for Districts. Our league was big enough to get two representatives while two other leagues were represented by one team. The winner of this game would be one of the two District teams to go to Regionals. The Regionals were actually part of the State Tournament. The state was divided into four regions, each one getting one representative to the final four. So, if we could win and make it to Regionals, it would give the players their first taste of the kind of high level of competition found at the State Tournament. Eric started against Lakeshore on Sunday. He didn't fool a lot of their hitters and I ended up pulling him after four innings with him behind 4- 0. It could have been worse, but he was his usual cool, calm self, and pitched his way out of a lot of jams. He also threw a lot of pitches, so I finished up with Vince and Rich. We lost 5-0. Their senior ace totally shut down our offense. That meant we had to come back Sunday afternoon and play the winner of the Little Rock-Beachwood game that was played Saturday evening. Little Rock won that game 7-6. But they didn't have an answer for Rodney, who showed everyone how good he was as we took a 6-1 win from the Little Rock Lumberjacks. We would be playing in Region Two next weekend, and if we won that we go to the state finals. The Regionals were very simple: Four teams, one teams goes on, the other three don't. The setup was lose a game and you're out. [ERIC] I totally couldn't believe we made it to Regionals. It was us and Lakeshore from our District. That meant two teams from our league were in our Regional, which we all thought was pretty cool; the regular league champion and the league tournament champion. All we had to do was win two games without losing and would be going to Pasco for the State A Tournament. Noah had spent last night at my house. Scott came by after he walked Cindy home and spent time playing games and talking baseball until dinner. Scott ate with us and stayed a while longer after dinner. He headed home a little bit after eight. Noah and I chatted with my mom and dad for awhile. They were as excited as anybody about us being in Regionals. "Maybe your dream will take fruition a year early," dad said. "Then we could win three championships in a row," I said with a big burst of enthusiasm. "While the possibility exists, since we are one of sixteen teams now at what is considered the state tournament," Noah said, "realistically our chances are not very good." "They're as good as anybody else's," I said. "We all start out equal." "I bet if we went online and looked up the other fifteen teams we would find they are loaded with seniors and juniors." "So, we might be young, but we're good. I mean we beat a lot of juniors and seniors to get to where we are. Since when did you become so negative?" "I'm not negative, just realistic. However, there is always the `X' factor at work." "Which is?" "Hard work and great attitude overcomes senior maturity. They might be bigger and stronger and older, but I guarantee nobody works harder than us. That is the `X' factor." "Noah, we all truly love you," my mom said. It was one of those moments when I knew how lucky I was to have the best boyfriend in the world and the best mom and dad in the world. I felt blessed to be who I was. Noah would be one of the sophomores suiting up tomorrow. State tournament rules allowed for only fifteen players to be in uniform and in the dugout, so it was an honor to be one of them. I wasn't one of the floaters, I was a regular. Danny was the other floater to suit up. We figured Danny was picked for his bat and Noah for his glove and his ability to move runners up with his bunting skills. But, Coach had rotated the sophomores during the postseason. Hunter and Lars had been the floating sophs on the roster for Districts while Gavin and Carl suited up for the league tournament. We couldn't help but wonder who Coach would pick if we made it to Pasco. That night Noah and I didn't have sex, but we did meditate. We sat naked on the floor facing each other and tried to empty our minds and concentrate on what we needed to do tomorrow. We touched our heads, our hands touched our shoulders, and for a short time I found myself totally blocking out all of the world but my own thoughts. Trust me, it was a very short time, but it was cool when it happened. Noah could do this much longer than I could, but he's been to Montana three times with his family and worked with an Indian who taught him things about meditating. Also, Noah has always been interested in meditation, going back to sixth grade. You have to understand that Noah is a special person and is way different from most kids. The thing that makes Noah so great is that he is super smart. He understands people better than most adults, too. And he has interests other kids wouldn't think of having. Yet he is so friendly and open that everybody loves him. There is nothing stuck up or phony about Noah, even when he uses big words nobody ever heard of before. Noah makes everybody feel special, and me being his best friend, his boyfriend, makes me feel beyond special. We both slept soundly. Mom fed us a great pregame pancake breakfast and dad drove us to the high school to catch the bus for Lacey. The trip would take a little over an hour-and-half and the bus was scheduled to leave at ten-thirty. Coach Sanders read us the starting lineup before we left the school. Jerome-center field Eric (that would be me)-second base Rich-shortstop Marty-third base Scott-first base Vince-designated hitter for Rodney, the pitcher. Connor-left field Kevin-catcher Kraig-right field We were playing the North Peninsula Thunderbirds, a team that lost only three games. They started eight seniors and a junior against us. Their coach didn't use a designated hitter. The game started right on time at one. We won the coin flip and picked being the home team. Rodney looked sharp, pitching a 1-2-3 first inning. Their pitcher was a big senior, and he looked like he had filthy stuff. He threw harder than Rodney or Scott and he had really good control. Jerome struck out to start the first for us and I flew out to right field on a 1-2 count after swinging and missing twice. At the end of the first inning there was no doubt that this was going to be a tough game. Nobody got a run until the third inning when the Thunderbirds scored a run on two hits and a walk. We evened the score in the bottom of the inning when I singled in Kraig from second base. We took the lead in the bottom of the fourth when Crawford, who had pinch-hit for Connor, singled and then scored on Kraig's double. Kraig might be hitting ninth for us, but he was a decent hitter. Everybody liked to tell us we might be a young team, but we were also a very deep and talented team. We had a 2-1 lead going into the fifth when things started to go bad. The leadoff batter for the T-Birds smashed a hard shot up the middle which Rodney tried to grab with his bare hand. That move is not real smart. The ball deflected off of his hand. He had to come out of the game which meant Coach Sanders had to come up with a pitcher. Rich and I were standing together on the field while the coaches looked at Rodney's hand. We figured Coach would use either me or Scott, with the other guy starting tomorrow's game if we won. I told Rich that coach might even pick him, move me to short, and put Noah in at second like he would if Rich pitched at the end of a game. Coach decided to go with me. Because Rodney had come out hurt, I got all the time I needed to warm up. I hadn't pitched in relief since the first week of the season when Coach was giving all of his pitchers some work. Kevin told me not to rush and to make sure I was truly warm and ready. Noah went into the game for Rodney and would play second in my place. I'd love to say I came in and was the hero and saved the day, but that isn't what happened. I didn't pitch badly, but I didn't pitch great. They were big, experienced hitters, better than most in our league. The Thunderbirds were a really good team, and they showed it. I was able to get ahead of a hitter in the count, but I just couldn't come up with the pitch to put him away. They got three hits off of me that inning. A dropped fly ball by Kraig in left field didn't help. It wasn't on a routine play since he had to attempt the catch on the run, but it was still a ball he should have caught, and he knew it. The Thunderbirds ended up scoring three runs that inning and we were now behind 4-2. That was all they scored off of me, but it was enough. We scored a run in the sixth when Scott singled, Vince walked, and Connor doubled in Scott. The Thunderbirds went down 1-2-3 in the seventh. They brought in their closer and he took care of us 1-2-3 in the bottom of the inning. That was the end of the school season for the Mustangs. There would be no trip to Pasco and the State finals for us this year. It would have to wait for next year. We had come a long way for a young team, all the way to the State Regionals. We were proud of what we did. But baseball wasn't over for us. It was time to concentrate on summer ball and the Mayfield Falcons. Next: Summer Ball—The Biggest Little City