by Ryan Brenner

Created on: June 05, 2010

“Where have you been?” Said my best friend Matt as I flopped down on the bench beside him.   “We could have used you this morning Carl let two balls go right through his legs at short.  Nearly cost us the game.”

 “I had some things to do this morning,”  I didn’t really want anyone to know that I was a suspected criminal, and judging that no one else had said anything to me I was guessing Amy had not said anything either.  She was okay for a girl.

“What thing, dude this is the tournament?”

“I got in trouble and my dad made me do some work,” not entirely the truth, but not entirely a lie either.

“Whaja do,” Matt pushed?

“Broke something,” Well, it wasn’t the truth, but it was what I was accused of.

“Whaja break,” he asked?

“Look,” I said, “let’s just drop it.”

Coach Thompson who was throwing some batting practice spotted me. “Parker, nice of you to drop by.  We had a game this morning you know?”

“He got in trouble,” Matt blurted out.

Sometimes Matt didn’t know when to just keep it shut, but the answer did seem to appease Coach Thompson.  I guess he wasn’t going to argue with parents.

I took some batting practice, and fielded a few grounders at shortstop. Ricky Carson our top pitcher was warming up. A school bus pulled up, and out stepped the West Boro Tigers.  The first thing we noticed is that they were big, they looked mean, and they had their names on the back of there jerseys.  Something we wanted, but our sponsor Fred and Lina’s family market didn’t have the money to pay for.

“Ain’t no way number 14 is twelve years old,” said Matt.

I looked at number 14, and I had to agree.  I think he had razor burn on his face. 

Number 14 had Hefferman printed across his back, but his teammates were calling him Bull.  I had heard something about him from my cousin who played for another team, said he hit two homers against them, and one of them broke the window of a warehouse that was at least 25 feet beyond the fence. 

We left the field, and gave the Tigers time to warm up before the game.  The umpires arrived and the small bleachers behind the backstop were filling up.  My mom and dad were walking across the field from the parking lot.  Mom gave me a wave as dad unfolded the chairs. 

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