Ken poised then pitched the ball. The batter swung and missed. The next ball was a strike. The batter gripped his bat and swung as the ball came hurtling through the air. Bobolink took several steps forward and very easily gathered in the ball.
Two men out and men on second and third. Paul signalled to Ken and the two met midway between home plate and the pitcher’s box. Ken inquired anxiously, “Well?”
Paul answered, “Nothing in particular. Just thought I’d give you a minute to relax. Don’t worry if they hit you; it can’t be helped. You’ve been doing swell so far.”
The pitcher nodded. “Okey. Thanks.”
Each walked back to his respective position. Ken poised, ready to pitch. Paul signalled and the pitcher hurled the ball. The batter looked unconcerned, but suddenly he tightened his grip on the bat and swung. Crack! The sound was like a pistol shot. The ball sailed high and far out into left field. Nuthin’ ran far back and as the ball began to drop out of the air, he jumped. The crowd was on its feet, hushed, its eyes glued to the ball. The men on base were running toward home plate; the batter was already at second. Suddenly the crowd gasped sounding like a wave breaking. Nuthin’ had missed the ball by inches. He scampered after it and threw it wildly to second. William ran for it but it was too wide. The spectators were shouting madly; the Slavin team were dancing wildly as the man crossed home plate safely.
The din and noise still sounded in his ears as Ken poised to pitch again. He turned around to see if every player was in his place. But it was totally unnecessary. He struck the batter out and that ended the spectacle. Coming in from the field, the players managed to smile, joke and even laugh. They slapped Ken on the back and told him not to worry. It was their chance now and they would more than get even.
The boys went to bat gripped with determination to send in some runs but their enthusiasm was destroyed by Ted’s mastery in the box. He teased the first batter with two balls and then struck him out. When the second walked up to the plate, Ted repeated his performance. The spectators cheered and his team-mates encouraged him. Bobolink held his bat lightly and walked slowly to the plate. The boys encouraged him. “Come on, Bobolink,” someone shouted, “sock the old pill.”
“Hit it a mile, boy!”
“Sock it, kid!”