The Diamond Champs Page 5

  Coach Stag had yelled a lot to his charges during the early innings, but when he seemed to realize that his yelling was doing no good he stopped and let the game take its course. It was as if he knew that every bit of his coaching knowledge wasn't enough to stop the powerful—or was it lucky?—Blue Jays.

  Kim saw that the professor, Bernie Reese, was sitting quietly next to the coach. I wish he were alone, Kim thought. I'd ask him about Coach Stag. I'm not afraid to anymore.

  In the sixth inning the Blue Jays were leading, 13 - 4. There were two outs and Russ was up.

  “Strike!” barked the ump as the Blue Jays pitcher slipped one by him.

  Kim saw Coach Stag get up and leave the dugout. He saw Don gazing at the coach, the gaze lingering for a while before he glanced back at the batter. His face looked as sad as the coach's.

  Kim saw his opportunity now to speak to Professor Reese alone, and quickly went over to him.

  “Professor Reese,” he said softly.

  “Hi, Kim,” said the professor. “I was wondering when you'd start calling me that. Mrs. Pierce told me that you and Eric came to see me a few days ago.”

  Kim nodded. “Yes. It's about Coach Stag.” He paused, his heart pounding. “We've been wondering about him, sir.”

  “I expected you would eventually,” said the professor calmly. “Especially you, since you're the only member on the team who had played so little baseball before.”

  Kim looked at him. His nerves tightened up. He glanced briefly at the plate as a second strike was called on Russ.

  “Well, those dark sunglasses that he always wears, and his kind of mysterious ways, make some of the kids think he's a crook,” said Kim, feeling foolish the moment he said it.

  Professor Reese laughed. “No, he's not a crook, Kim! He's a really fine human being! Surprisingly, he has his own reason for doing what he's been doing during this baseball season. When he told me of his idea I wanted to talk him out of it. I thought it was kind of silly, until he gave me his reason why he wanted to do it.”

  Kim's eyes widened, and he stared at the professor.

  Just then he heard a crack! and glanced around to see Russ's fly ball sailing out to center field. But even before he saw the fielder catch it, ending the ball game, Kim heard Professor Reese saying, “Well, he was never allowed to play when he was a kid because of his poor eyesight. That's why he wanted to coach a team this year, to prove to certain people that in spite of his not ever playing baseball, he could put a special team together and win the championship.”

  “Did it have something to do with our fathers' team of twenty years ago?” Kim asked.

  “It did, but that's all I'll tell you now, Kim. Anyway,” the professor rose, “the game's over. There's only one more to go. We've got to win it, or all of Coach Stag's hard work and ambition will be wasted, and he'll be heartbroken. So don't you see, Kim? You and the rest of the team must do your best next week against the Red Arrows. You'll learn the whole story about Coach Stag then.”

  All the professor's words did was increase Kim's anxiety. Bubbling with excitement, Kim couldn't wait to get home to have another talk with his father.

  In less than two minutes he found out what he wanted to know. His heart pounding like a hammer, he gathered up a pencil and paper and began to figure out Coach Stag's true identity.

  Finally the day of the Red Arrows - Steelheads game arrived. Knowing now why Coach Stag wanted so desperately to win the championship, Kim was glad that he was playing. And he'd play his heart out, too, he promised himself.

  The Red Arrows had first bats.

  “Get 'em outa there, Doug!” Kim yelled in right field.

  “Breeze it by him, ol' boy!” cried A. J.

  Right off, the Arrows' Mick Davis connected with a single, then advanced to second as Hank Stone drove a blistering grounder through third-baseman Eric Marsh's legs. After that Doug seemed to try pitching more cautiously, throwing to the outside corner to Jim Kramer. The pitches were balls, and Jim didn't bite. Then Doug laid one directly over the heart of the plate, and—Crack! Jim smashed it to right center for a double, scoring two runs.

  “Bear down in there, Doug!” yelled Kim as catcher Ken Dooley stepped into the batter's box.

  Ken, the Red Arrows' long-distance hitter, looked menacing as he waved his bat over his shoulder, his eyes centered on Doug.

  Doug blazed a strike by him. Ken swung at the next and missed it for strike two. Then he blasted a high fly to center field, which Cathy got under and caught easily.

  Fred Tuttle, up next, singled to continue the Red Arrows' relentless drive, scoring Jim. Joe Fedderson belted a streaking grounder to short that Brad fumbled, leaving Joe safe at first and Fred on second. Then Duke lambasted a long drive to right center field that he tried to stretch into a triple. But Eric, catching Jo Franklin's throw after she had caught Kim's peg from deep right, tagged out Duke as the Red Arrow runner tried to slide past him. Two outs.

  Eddie Noles continued the batting spree with a sharp single over second. But that was it as Jack Moon, the Red Arrows' left-handed pitcher, went down swinging.

  “Five to nothing!” Larry exclaimed as he and Kim came trotting in to the dugout. “Man! That's some start!”

  “You should've taken me out, Coach,” said Doug dismally as he flung his glove against the dugout wall. “Everything I threw they hit.”

  “Okay. Now it's our turn,” said the coach. “And remember, it's our last game. It's the big one. Win this, and we'll have a party that's a party!”

  Kim smiled at him. Coach, he wanted to say, I don't know how you got away with it all this time. But you certainly did. And I'm sorry I doubted your motives before. After finding out what they are, I'm with you all the way!

  12

  IT WAS ONE, TWO, THREE for the Steelheads as Eric struck out, Larry flied out, and Nick grounded out.

  “Hey, you guys!” yelled Kim as he ran out on the field with his teammates. “We can't let Coach Stag down like this! We've got to start hitting that ball!”

  “Look who's talking,” Brad snorted. “When are you going to start hitting? Next year? It's too late this year.”

  “Well, I'm doing my best,” Kim replied.

  “For never having played on a team before, I think that Kim's done very well,” said Cathy.

  Thanks, Cathy, Kim wanted to say, and wondered how many others felt as she did.

  “This is our last game, and we still don't know why Coach Stag picked us to play on his team, and why he's been so anxious to win the championship,” said Larry.

  “Well, I know,” said Kim, grinning.

  “You do?” Larry's eyebrows shot skyward. The others stared at Kim. “Well—why?”

  Suddenly Kim wished he hadn't opened his big mouth. But it was too late now. “We'll all find out at the end of this game,” he said. “Let's just play our best game ever, that's all.”

  “Why are you keeping it a secret, if you know?” asked A. J. curiously. “What's so important about it?”

  “I said that we'll all find out. Come on,” he added, breaking for his right-field position. “Let's win this ol' ball game for Coach Stag!”

  “Right!” cried Cathy.

  The top of the Red Arrows' batting order was up. As Mick Davis walked, Kim feared that another fat inning was in the offing. But Hank hit into a double play, and Jim flied out.

  “Nice going, gang,” said the coach, appearing less tense now than he did after that first grueling half inning.

  A. J., leading off in the bottom half of the second inning, earned a walk. Cathy bunted him down to second, sacrificing herself on a quick throw to first by third baseman Hank Stone. Kim, hoping to score A. J., grounded out to short, and Brad popped out to the catcher. Three outs.

  Ken Dooley led off for the Red Arrows in the top of the third. Doug managed to squeak two strikes by him, then Ken took a toehold on the third pitch and drove it to left center for a double.

  Again Kim expected the hit to
be the beginning of something big for the Red Arrows, but relief swept over him as Fred Tuttle flied out to left, and both Joe Fedderson and Duke Pierce struck out.

  “Nice pitching, Doug!” Kim praised the right-hander as he came running in.

  “He's going to be another Catfish Hunter!” Nick Forson smiled.

  Jo, leading off for the Steelheads, waited out Jack Moon's pitches, then flied out to right. Doug, drawing loud applause from the crowd as he stepped to the batter's box, corked Jack's first pitch for a double. Eric drove him in on a single through short, then got out as Larry hit into a double play—5 - 1, Red Arrows' favor.

  “Come on, gang!” cried the coach. “Just hold 'em!”

  The Steelheads did, permitting only one batter, Jack Moon, to reach first base.

  Nick Forson led off in the bottom of the fourth with a sharp single through the pitcher's box. A. J., waiting out Jack's pitches, finally clouted one to deep left for a triple, scoring Nick. The Steelheads' bench sprang to life as the scoring gap narrowed.

  “Keep it going, Cathy!” Kim shouted.

  Cathy pounded out a fly to right field. It was caught, but A. J. tagged up, then ran in to score. Kim, anxious to get on base, popped out to third. Brad drew a walk, then advanced to second on Jo's hit through short. Two on, two outs, and Doug was up. A long drive could tie the score.

  Jack stretched, and pitched. Crack! It was a solid blow to left field! But not deep enough. Jim Kramer trotted back, leaped, and made a sparkling one-handed catch to end the threat—5 - 3, Red Arrows.

  Applause greeted Jim as he strode to the plate to start off the top of the fifth inning. Cracking no smile, he watched the first pitch come in, then belted the next for a clean single.

  Ken Dooley, batting for the third time, took a called strike, then two balls, then leaned into a chest-high pitch with apparently all the power he could muster. The sound of bat meeting ball was like a rifle blast. The ball that rocketed out to deep left field was like a bullet. It went over the fence for a home run, boosting the Red Arrows' score to 7.

  “Oh, no!” Kim moaned, almost hearing the bell of doom for the Steelheads. And for the coach. What chance was there now for the Steelheads to win the game? A 7 - 3 lead was almost too much to expect to overcome.

  Poor coach. He'll never get over this if we lose, Kim told himself sadly.

  Fred Tuttle, up next, flied out. Then Joe grounded out to short and Duke struck out on three pitches. Relieved, Kim sprinted off the field.

  “Let's get those runs back!” he cried spiritedly. “Come on, guys! We're as good as they are!”

  “We've got to be better,” said Nick, removing his catcher's gear.

  Eric said nothing as he picked up a bat and stepped to the plate. In five pitches he was granted a walk. Larry, up next, got hit by a pitch, dropped his bat, and trotted to first. Eric advanced to second.

  Nick, the back of his shirt damp with sweat, belted a high, sky-reaching fly to center. Duke Pierce moved back four steps and caught it.

  Then A. J. stepped to the plate, drawing loud applause from the crowd. He had walked and tripled his first two times up.

  This time he managed only to pop up to

  Two outs, and Cathy was up. She had bunted the first time at bat, and flied out the second time. What was she going to do now? The Steelheads' bench was silent as a morgue.

  “Come on, gang!” cried the coach. “A little life! How about it?”

  At once the bench came alive. “Get a hit, Cath!”

  “Drive 'em in, Cath!”

  Jack Moon stretched, pitched, and Cathy swung. Crack! The blow, a solid blast to left center field, went for a double! Eric scored. But Larry, guided by the third-base coach, clung to third.

  Kim strode to the plate, his ears still ringing from the cheers the fans were giving Cathy.

  “Okay, Kim!” they yelled to him. “Keep up the merry-go-round! Hit that apple!”

  He did, a long, smashing blow to deep left field! He could tell by the sound and the feel of his bat striking the ball that it was the best hit he had connected with so far this year. Dropping his bat, he ran to first, then looked toward left field and saw the hall sailing out of sight over the fence.

  The cheers that rose from the fans brought a lump to his throat that didn't leave until after he had crossed home plate.

  Brad kept up the spree with a single, gaining second as Jo walked. But Doug's caught fly to right field ended the fat inning. Red Arrows 7, Steelheads 7.

  “Nice hit, Kim,” said the coach proudly. “We needed that badly.”

  Kim smiled. “Thanks, Coach,” he said warmly.

  Eddie Noles, leading off for the Red Arrows in the top of the sixth, flied out to center. Jack fouled two pitches, then grounded out to short. Mick, after looking over two over-the-inside-corner strikes, belted a long drive to right center that looked as if it might turn into an inside-the-park home run. But Kim's quick throw to Jo, and her snap to Nick, forced Mick back to third after he tried to make a dash for home.

  Nervousness began to spread among the Steelheads. All the Red Arrows needed now was a hit to break the tie and possibly win the ball game.

  Crack! A long, sharp blow to center field! Cathy ran forward, reached for the ball by her shoelaces—and caught it! Three outs!

  Kim let out a sigh of relief as a thunder of applause rose from the Steelheads' fans for Cathy.

  Eric, leading off in the bottom of the sixth inning, flied out to right.

  “Come on, Larry!” Kim cried. “Get on!”

  Larry smashed a single through the pitcher's box, then advanced to second as Joe Fedderson missed Nick's grass-scorching grounder. One out, two runners on, and A. J. was up.

  He took a called strike, then two balls, then laced a pitch to right center. Across the plate raced Larry, and the ball game was over!

  The Steelheads won the game, 8 - 7, and the championship was theirs!

  An hour later the Steelheads, including Coach Stag and Professor Reese, were at the city park, celebrating their victory.

  A huge white cake sat on the middle of a picnic table. On it was a statue of a baseball coach, and in his hands was a rolled-up scroll. A bakery had made the cake and the statue.

  Kim's pulse tingled as he saw the coach look at the cake.

  “Hey, what a surprise!” exclaimed the coach. “Whose idea was it?”

  “Kim's,” said Cathy.

  The coach glanced at Kim. “I had a hunch,” he said.

  Kim grinned. “We all wondered why you picked up a team from all over the city, including me, who never played on a team before,” he confessed. “And we wondered very much why you worked so hard to make us a championship team, so Eric and I did some detective work. We found out that the fathers of all us kids had played on the same team over twenty years ago.”

  “Well!” said the coach. “Smart deduction! Go on.”

  “We also found out that each of us played the same positions as our fathers had, too. And the reason you asked Cathy and Jo to play with us was because there weren't any boys in their families.”

  “Clever.” The coach's smile broadened.

  “But we still couldn't figure out who you were, or why you wanted to win the championship so badly,” Kim went on, “until Professor Reese gave me a hint.”

  “Oh? What was that?” asked the coach.

  The team stood still as statues, listening attentively to Kim's every word.

  “He said that you were never given a chance to play baseball when you were a kid because of your poor eyesight,” explained Kim. “When I asked my dad if he knew of a kid like that, he told me. Gates Morgan!”

  “But my name is Stag,” said the coach. “Gorman E. Stag.”

  Kim laughed. “An anagram of your real name—Gates Morgan!”

  “Gates Morgan?” Doug echoed. “You mean he's Don's father?”

  “Right!” said Kim.

  “I can't believe it!” Brad cried.

  Simultaneously, c
ries of disbelief sprang from the other Steelheads' players as the coach removed his sunglasses, lifted off a red wig, then slowly removed a film of makeup from his face, and dabs of cotton out of his mouth.

  “Mr. Morgan!” exclaimed A. J. dumb-foundedly. “It is you! Why in the world did you disguise yourself?”

  Gates Morgan smiled cheerfully. “Well, I—” He shrugged. “It's hard to explain.”

  “I'll do it for him,” intervened Professor Reese. “Gates Morgan is basically an actor. He's in the new play I'm directing, and it was his being in it that gave him the idea to play his role of Gorman E. Stag in a real-life drama. It also gave him a chance to prove to himself, and to your fathers who had played on the team on which he was only allowed to be an equipment handler, that he was very capable of coaching a team to a championship. Disguising himself was just a pleasurable opportunity for him to see if he was able to fool his audience. He almost succeeded too, except for a few of you who got very nosy.” He chuckled, adding, “I told Gates that some of you even went as far as to think that he was a criminal!”

  Gates Morgan, and the Steelheads team, broke out in laughter.

  “Hardly that,” mused the actor-coach. “I'd like to add one more thing to what Bernie said, though. I coached, but you all played like champs—and you never thought you could.” Then he turned to Kim. “By the way, Kim, there's a role open for a young tennis player in the next play that Bernie will direct. I'd like you to consider playing the part.”

  Kim's eyebrows shot skyward. “But I've never played tennis, Mr. Morgan!” he said.

  Gates Morgan smiled. “So? You had never played baseball before, either, had you?”