Welcome back. Please remember: The first chapter disclaimers apply, and be safe, always.
The Falcons are a team that appears to be adrift. Many of the players are going through the motion, mailing it in. The team was screaming for leadership, especially from the older players. Was anyone willing to take that leadership role?
CHAPTER 30 CALIFORNIA DREAMING
<Sunday, May 31>
The Falcons had a one o'clock game at Olympia. Coach Miller named Eric the starting pitcher. Coach Miller and Coach Sanders had both been pleased with the turnout and attitude at the carwash the day before and were hoping to see the enthusiasm carry over to the ball field.
For Eric, it would be his first time pitching from the full 60'6" pitching distance that year. While the freshmen had played their school games on a full-size field, the eighth graders played on a smaller field. It would be their last time doing so. While they'd played on a full- size field the summer before, the change did take a little adjusting to.
Eric's control was off a bit in the first three innings, but he did pitch effectively. Carl showed that the bigger dimensions weren't going to affect his bat. He homered and doubled in his first two at-bats, giving the Falcons a 5-2 lead over the Bears after three innings. Eric pitched two more innings and was taken out of the game when he'd reached the pitch limit Coach Miller had set for the game. The Falcons ended up with their first win by a 9-4 score.
They played their first league games as June arrived. Now that the Falcons had started playing together, they expected to be a good team, and they were. But they weren't a great team, at least not as far as their record went. They lacked the consistency that a great team needed to have in order to rise above the pack.
<Saturday, June 6>
Saturday saw them playing Kelso at home. They picked up an easy 11-3 win with Gavin starting. Most of Kelso's players were inexperienced and found it difficult to play as a team.
After the game, the team met at The Bear for pizza and to celebrate Scott's fourteenth birthday, which had been the day before. Eric sat with Noah, Marty, Rich, and Kevin as they chomped on their pizzas. Those five were the true core of the Go to State Team. They talked about the day's game and how the team was playing. They all agreed that they could play better and would need to step it up some if they wanted to go from being a good team to being a great team, a championship caliber team. They could see that even with their improved attitude there was some kind of spark missing. They couldn't put their finger on what was missing, and didn't know how to ignite the spark even if they could find it.
After the party broke up, Eric and Noah walked with Scott back to Eric's house. "Tama is really starting to get on my nerves," Scott said out of the blue.
"She's a female. It is her role in life to get on your nerves," Noah said. "Just like it is our job as teenagers to get on our parents' nerves. All of us have roles in life." Noah had turned thirteen in April, the last of the group to become a teen, since he had skipped fifth grade.
"What did she do this time?" Eric asked. He was getting weary of Scott's complaining about his girlfriend, especially since he didn't like her. It was more than just mere jealousy. Scott had confessed that Tama made him promise to not mess around sexually with Eric again. Eric was ready to throttle Tama that day, and while that image didn't leave his head, he knew better than to act on it.
"She keeps saying if I do this and if I do that she'll put out, so I do what she asks and then she comes up with some lame excuse for not doing it."
"Being gay does have its plusses," Noah said.
"Well, at least she's made out naked with me and even jerked me off. But fuck, guys, I would like to just maybe have a blow job, you know what I mean? It's been, like, forever since I've had one."
"Is this some kind of a hint?" Eric asked. "Are you asking for a birthday BJ, is that what it is?" Eric could feel his anger level rising some. He still hadn't gotten over the hurt of their breakup and how it happened. He couldn't help but feel that Tama had turned him into some kind of object for Scott to manipulate the way she told him.
"Oh, no, I wasn't thinking that. I was just saying a BJ would be nice. She'd kill me if she found out that I messed around with you guys."
"Well, I'm not going to tell," Noah said. "Eric isn't going to tell. You're not going to tell. I know for a fact you've done a couple of things with us guys since Tama said you couldn't. So why not enjoy your birthday?"
"I guess the real reason is you two are, like, boyfriends now. And, well, I've taken advantage of Eric way too much because of Tama. Oh, forget it, it's all too confusing."
"I think you need to find a girlfriend who treats you like an equal instead of like a slave," Eric said.
"I know...I know. But she is so totally fine. She's maybe the best looking girl in our class. And you should see her naked. I mean then she is beyond fine."
"You're hopeless," Eric said as they got to his house.
"Thanks for listening guys. I'll see you all later." Scott lived two houses away from Eric. Noah and Eric watched him leave then went into Eric's house.
"You were right," Noah said. "He either needs a new girlfriend or he needs to assert himself some. Nobody our age should have to go through life without getting his dick sucked."
"Is that a hint?" Eric asked.
"You know it, and unlike Scott, I mean it," Noah said. They waved hello to Eric's parents and dashed up to Eric's room to take care of business.
The next day the team traveled to Tacoma for their annual doubleheader against the team Shelby and Liam played for. They split, losing the first game 5-4 and winning the second 7-2, with Lars getting the win. It was great to see Shelby, Liam, Adam, and Chase. Since both teams had games the next day, the Mayfield boys couldn't stay for an overnight. But once again, pizza was on the menu as Eric, Noah, Scott, Kevin, and Kraig stayed behind to visit with their Tacoma friends. Kevin's parents remained to drive the boys back to Mayfield.
<Tuesday, June 16>
The Falcons had just won a tough home game against the Lakeshore Bears. Scott pitched all seven innings for the Falcons in the 4-1 win. Marty's two-run home run was the big blow. The Falcons were now 5- 3 in league and 7-7 on the season—good, but not great.
Their next game would be Thursday against the Kentburg team that had worked hard to recruit the Mayfield ninth graders. They considered themselves to be a high powered outfit even without the Mayfield boys. They'd managed to recruit three good players from Meadow Park and picked up two players from Clark Pass, the only two decent ball players at the school.
The Kentburg team played in two different programs; the Washington State League with Mayfield, as well as in the very competitive travel league that had teams from the Tacoma and Seattle area. The results were mixed for Kentburg. They were too thin on talent to contend in the competitive league, but had enough talent to be at the top of the Southwest Washington League where they competed with the Falcons. They had a 5-0 record in league play going into the game.
Eric got the starting nod and pitched all seven innings, giving up six hits and three runs. The bad news was his opponent was Ben, who usually pitched against teams in the higher league. But the rivalry between Mayfield and Kentburg, especially after the Mayfield freshmen decided to turn down the new jackets, batting gloves, and other enticements and play for the Falcons, was intense. Ben gave up just five hits and only one run when Scott doubled in the fifth inning and Kevin drove him in with a single.
The final score was 3-1, Kentburg, and the Falcons were now 5-4 half-way through their league season. The Falcons had played more league games, because Seth McCall asked the league commissioner to schedule their games tightly so the team could play in the tournament in California.
That evening after the game, Marty rode home with Mr. Bednarzyck. Jeffrey was in the back seat, so excited he couldn't sit still.
"Tomorrow is the day," Jeffrey said as they pulled into the Bednarzyck driveway.
"I thought the day was last Thursday," Marty said kiddingly.
"It was. But now that day is last week and tomorrow is the day." Marty nodded like he understood.
Jeffrey's birthday had been on the eleventh and the family had a quiet celebration with presents and cake. On Saturday, he had a party for his friends at his house. But the most important day for Jeffrey was the day the family ate out. Because of everybody's schedule that event had been delayed, but now he was going to have his special birthday dinner.
They ate at Parker's Steakhouse in Centralia, of course. Marty was disappointed that Peter, the waiter they'd had the year before, wasn't working that evening. But he wasn't disappointed in the food, as he downed a rib-eye steak, baked potato, and apple pie ala mode for dessert.
Something happened that night that hadn't happened since Marty had been given the little apartment across the patio to live in; Jeffrey came over to spend the night with him. Marty often went into Jeffrey's room and read Jeffrey to sleep, sometimes petting his bare chest and belly, sometimes masturbating his little boner, sometimes letting Jeffrey masturbate him. He rarely slept with the young boy, drifting out of the room once Jeffrey fell asleep.
Marty was stripped down to his boxers when he heard an insistent knock at the door. The only person he knew who would knock unannounced was Rich, and he knew Rich wouldn't be coming over this late at night. While Rich's parents accepted the relationship between Marty and Rich, they weren't ready for their son to spend the night with Marty in his own apartment, even though the apartment was only a few feet from the main house of the host family. Mr. B rarely came over to the apartment in the evening, and, if he did, he gave Marty a call first.
Marty opened the door and saw that it was Jeffrey, standing in front of him wearing a pair of black and white pajamas with the top unbuttoned, revealing his bare chest. He was holding his teddy bear. "Hi, Marty, I'm officially nine now that we had the birthday dinner, so dad said I was old enough to come over and stay the night with you."
"Well, this is a bit of a surprise. You might have warned me first."
"I know, I was so excited I forgot. I brought Teddy so Mortimer could have company." He scooted past Marty and into the apartment. "I didn't bring a book. I came so you could pet me and I could see you squirt your stuff." It was the first time Jeffrey had made sex his priority. Often, during their reading sessions, he wasn't interested in sex at all.
"Really? And your mom and dad are okay with that."
"I didn't tell them. They think I came to read and sleep with my big brother."
"You didn't bring a book; they might suspect something."
"I had to bring Teddy, so my hands were full. You have books and we aren't going to read anyway." Jeffery went into the bedroom and quickly took off his pajamas. His cocklet was soft, but extended some from its usual length.
Marty wasn't enthused about the situation, but reluctantly gave in to it. He pulled off his boxers and tossed them on the floor.
"Look, your pee nest is growing." Jeffrey grabbed it and felt it quickly go from being flaccid to being fully hard. "That is really cool."
"It's a penis," Marty said for what seemed like the hundredth time.
"No, it's a pee nest, just like I've been telling you."
And that was the first of many times over the next three years that Jeffrey would wander across the patio in various stages of undress to sleep with the "big brother" he idolized. He didn't always come over for sex. Sometimes he just wanted to be held, sometimes he just wanted to be read to, and sometimes he just wanted to sleep next to Marty. But the closer he got to puberty, the more sexual he became and the more intense the sex became, especially from the time Jeffrey reached age ten-and-a-half.
That first night he walked over, Jeffrey licked the teen's cock, taking in some of the precum. He put the head in his mouth once, but Marty wouldn't let him suck him off. Marty felt that Jeffrey wasn't old enough to do that yet. In the end, Marty sucked Jeffrey to a body wracking dry cum and then masturbated himself, letting his cum shoot over the boy's torso because he knew how much Jeffrey liked having cum on him. Marty and Jeffrey rubbed the cum over the nine year old's chest, belly, and over his dick and balls. After that Jeffrey snuggled up tightly to Marty, their bodies sticking together, and the two naked boys were quickly asleep.
<Sunday, June 21>
The weekend found the Falcons winning three out of four games. It also found them talking more and more about their upcoming trip to California as their anticipation increased daily.
The Falcons played a Saturday doubleheader at Tumwater. Rodney started the first game, a league game, and pitched the full seven innings as the Falcons won 6-3. They then won the second game, which was a non-league game, 11-6. Rich got his first start since Coach Miller didn't think he would need him to close. He wanted to give Rich more than the one or two innings that he usually pitched. Rich went the first five and left with a 9-2 lead. A combination of Hunter, Kraig, and Lars gave up four runs in the last two innings.
The next day, the Falcons had a non-league double header at home against a team from Enumclaw. The Rainiers played in the same state-wide program as the Falcons, but in a different league. Lars started the first game and got hit hard and the Falcons lost 8-4. The boys sat in the shade of the stands between games, drinking water and snacking. They talked about their upcoming trip. They would be leaving Centralia on Wednesday on Amtrak's "Coast Starlight", taking that train all the way to Salinas.
"Everybody says it gets real hot in Salinas," Connor says. "Like sometimes over 100 fucking degrees."
"Connor's just upset because he can't drink beer to keep him cool," Vince said.
"Well, fuck you, too," Connor retorted. "You won't get to either."
"But I wasn't complaining," Vince retorted. Conner flipped Vince the finger. Vince was as close to a best friend as Connor had, and the teasing was the good-natured kind that happened between friends.
"What's our record now?" Rodney asked.
"Nine wins and nine losses, but who's keeping track?" Marty said.
"Rodney sure ain't," Connor said.
"So how do they expect us to win against a bunch of really good teams in California?" Jerome asked. "I mean we've only won half our games against teams that aren't near as good."
"How do you know they aren't as good?" Noah asked. "Have you seen the California teams play?"
"Everybody knows the teams around here aren't as good as the California teams," Connor said. "I hear those California assholes play the best fucking baseball around."
"I just hope it ain't two and out," Vince said. The tournament was a double elimination, the kind that kept going until every team but one had two losses.
"You guys have lost the games already and nobody has thrown a pitch yet," Eric said. "Also, they have a consolation bracket, since a lot of teams are coming a long way for the tournament."
"Well, we were supposed to be hot shit this summer after last summer being a `learning experience' for us," Hunter said. "Instead we've only won half of our games."
"We'll kick ass next year when we're a year older." Connor said. "That's when we should have gone down to California—next year when we were all a year older."
"For one thing, we won't all be a year older next year since we have to move up a league for everybody to stay eligible," Noah said. "That means we will be younger than a lot of teams again."
"Fuck, we keep going nowhere," Connor said. "Maybe we should've played with that team of Kentburg assholes."
"They aren't doing that great," Kevin pointed out.
"They would be if we were playing for them," Rodney said.
Marty, Rich, Eric, Noah, Kevin, and a few others were getting upset at the direction of the conversation, which they saw as defeatist. But before they could express their opinions, Coach Miller sauntered over and told the boys to grab some baseballs and get their arms warmed up for the next game. He told Carl, who was going to be the starting catcher, to start warming up Vince, the starting pitcher, in about five minutes. It was time to get ready for game two of the doubleheader.
The Falcons won that game 6-2. Vince had his fastball, which was his only decent pitch, working pretty well. He went five innings, with Kevin and Jerome getting rare turns to pitch. They were each pleased after throwing a scoreless inning apiece.
On Monday, the Falcons played their last game before leaving on the trip to California. They were playing Shelton, who had defeated them 6-3 in Shelton the first time they played. Scott started and went four innings, leaving with the game tied at 1-1. Coach Miller wanted to preserve Scott's innings for the tournament without sacrificing a league game. He could have pitched Scott more, but instead he went with Hunter, who pitched okay, but gave up two runs in the sixth on a home run by the Hawks' cleanup hitter. Lars pitched a scoreless seventh, but the damage had been done as the Falcons could get no offense going and lost 3-1.
That night Noah slept over at Eric's. The two of them talked late into the night about the problems the Falcons were having.
"We were supposed to be good this year," Eric said. "We were supposed to be playing for first place. Instead we're 6-5 in league and tied for fourth and having to wonder if we'll finish high enough to make the league tournament." Six of the ten teams would be in the league tournament. "If we're going to be a championship team by the time we're juniors, we might want to start learning about winning championships now."
"You keep worrying too much," Noah said. "Remember, it's all about `we'. You need to take it a game and a day at a time. You're trying to take things a few years at a time. That doesn't work."
"You keep getting all philosophical on me," Eric said.
"Admit it...it's why you love me."
Eric fondled Noah's flaccid cock, working on it until it became hard in his hand. "It is one of many reasons," he said. He gently squeezed Noah's boy tool. "And so is this." For the record, Noah was the bottom and they did not wake up Eric's parents thanks to Noah biting on one of the pillows on the bed.
<Wednesday, June 24>
The team was on the platform of the Centralia station. It was eleven thirty and the "Coast Starlight" was due at eleven forty-five. The ticket agent said that it had left Olympia-Lacey, the previous stop, on time. Marty was standing next to Noah and Eric.
"I'm glad we got that board meeting in yesterday," Marty told the two of them.
"And since most us are on this trip we should have a pretty good general meeting," Eric said.
Their chat was interrupted by Hurricane Jeffrey and Nicky, who ran up to them from the other end of the platform. "I wish Teddy and Mortimer could have come with us," Jeffrey said.
"There just wasn't enough room for them," Marty said.
"That's what my dad said. But he said my mom and Sammy will take good care of them and make sure they don't get lonely."
"And they will always keep each other company, too."
"We gotta get back to dad fast before the train comes. Me and Nicky can't wait to ride the train." Jeffrey and Nicky's fathers were the two adult members on the board. They had planned their vacation so they could attend the tournament. They decided to take their young sons along. Jeffrey was nine and Nicky was ten. It would be the first train ride for Jeffrey. They would be riding in a sleeping car while the team was riding coach. The young boys had to get back to the other end of the platform to board the train since the sleepers were on the opposite end of the train from the coaches. It was on this trip that Jeffrey and Nicky would start to cement what was to become a very close friendship.
They ran back to their fathers and five minutes later the 12-car "Coast Starlight" came into view. The first big trip of the Mayfield Falcons was about to begin.
The members of the team going on the trip were Eric, Noah, Scott, Danny, Vince, Rich, Lars, Rodney, Marty, Jerome, Carl, Connor, Hunter, and the twins; in other words, the usual suspects. Austin would join the team at the next station, which was at Kelso/Longview. Gavin, while a talented athlete, was also injury prone. He had broken his arm skateboarding the week before and was unable to go on the trip.
Seth McCall, in his role as business agent, worked with the dining car steward to get the boys all fed for lunch and dinner. The entire group couldn't be seated during the same seating, but they all had a chance to eat in the dining car. Most of the boys tried to maintain an air of teenage coolness, but they did not do a good job of hiding the fact they were excited about riding the train. Jeffrey and Nicky, of course, made no attempt to hide their excitement.
Late that evening, after the passengers had been served dinner, Seth and George Bednarzyck were able to arrange for the team to meet in the dining car. It was dark by now, and the train had finished its long climb up Willamette Pass with its twenty-three tunnels.
Coach Miller had already talked to the team about his expectations on the trip regarding their behavior. He started the meeting by complimenting them on their deportment in the coach as well as at dinner in the dining car.
"You gentlemen have been representing your organization and the citizens of Mayfield well." Coach Miller and Coach Sanders had talked the board into having special t-shirts made for the trip to show that the teens were members of the Mayfield Falcons. Seth McCall said there was money in the budget for them. All of the boys were wearing them proudly.
Coach Sanders then addressed them about baseball. While he could not actively coach the team during practices or games, he was within the rules to travel with them as well as talk to them as a group.
"I know that over the past few months we've had some problems holding together as a team," Coach Sanders said. "From the chaos surrounding the previous coach (Coach Sanders intentionally did not mention Coach Gardner by name) to the attempt to recruit you by the Kentburg team, there has been some bad feeling among those of you who will be sophomores in the fall. But you managed to battle through those feelings during school ball last spring.
"As for you incoming freshmen, you've had your issues as well, including an eighth grade middle school season that was somewhat disappointing. While I know you've tried hard not to let these issues carry over to the playing field, in some ways it has. You are currently 10-10. You are much better than a .500 team, both because of your experience and because of your talent.
"You're going to be finding the game of baseball being played at a much higher level than you're used to over the next few days. This trip was scheduled as a learning experience, both as far as the baseball was concerned and as far as learning how to represent an organization in a public venue."
"When did Coach Sanders become a crashing bore?" Noah whispered to Eric, who worked to suppress a smile.
Coach Sanders went on to say that he and Coach Miller weren't expecting the team to bring home any hardware, but they were expecting a maximum team effort in the games they played. Each team was guaranteed three games, two in the double-elimination phase plus at least one consolation game if they were eliminated in their first two games.
Coach Sanders held up a piece of paper, but said nothing. He just let the boys look at it and wonder why he was holding it up. When he finally spoke he said, "This is a solid piece of paper, held together by many forces. As a solid piece of paper it fulfills its role perfectly. All of the parts work together and function as a team." He suddenly ripped it into shreds, letting the pieces float to the floor. "But if the pieces don't hold together, all you have is scrap. That is how a team works. Work together, you're a team. Go your own way and you're just a collection of scrap, instead of a team working together. And once that link holding your team together is ripped apart, it is close to impossible to put it back into one solid piece again.
"You boys have had great success in baseball because you've held together as a team. That togetherness in putting together your organization is why you are on this train. Don't let that togetherness fall apart. Don't let your dream fall apart. Don't let your sense of team fall apart, because once it does, you won't get it back together again. That is the key to this trip, to rediscover what it was that has held you together and learn what it takes to compete with the best. The rest is gravy."
Coach Sanders was obviously finished. Coach Miller told them he knew they wanted to have a meeting of their Go to State Team. He said that he and Coach Sanders would be in the lounge car. "Be sure to pick up the paper," he said as he left.
Marty stood up from his seat and glanced at his teammates who were buzzing about what they had just been told. The Go to State board thought this would be a good time for a general meeting of the organization, but Marty had other ideas.
"That was a lot of bullshit," Marty said.
"Huh?" Connor asked. "You don't think we should do better as a team?"
"What I don't think is that we should be going on this fucking trip as a fucking `learning experience'. That's what I don't think. What I do think is we should be going to win some fucking games. I am tired of all this crap about how when we suck in league we'll be better next year from what we learned, and all this shit about how we can't play with the big boys from California, so we all get to learn from it. What a line of total horseshit."
"He was just telling us we need to learn to play better as a team," Rodney said. There was still a bit of distance between Marty and many of the sophomores.
"The fuck we do," Marty raged. "We know how to play together as team, because we've done it. Or don't you remember two championships in middle school? Or us becoming pretty damned good by playing our asses off last summer? The coaches were way too fucking nice to us just now, and I can't figure out why. Usually they don't have a problem rubbing our noses in our shit when they need to."
"Maybe we don't have the problems you think we have," Connor said.
"Really? So tell me, how dirty do we get our uniforms each game? Last game against Shelton, some asshole hit a hot shot by me that I waved at, cuz my brain said it was hit too fucking hard to dive for. We went undefeated in eighth grade because we dove for that shit. Noah hung up Bobby's uniform at the Titan games this year, always making sure it had dirt on it. That little redhead fucker didn't know how to think out there, he just went after everything and got himself filthy dirty, and we followed him. Now I gotta think if I'm gonna dive or not for a hot shot to third. That's bullshit."
Nobody expected Marty to disparage his own play as an example to the team. Rodney was about to say something about Marty being lazy when Connor cut him off. "Kind of like the Kentburg game. That asstwat Ben is good pitcher, but when I got a 2-0 count and go swinging at some piece of crap pitch in the dirt, that's not his good pitching, that's me not having my fucking head in the game. That's the kind of bullshit Marty is talking about. We're not laying it on the line to be great, we're just happy to be good." As he often did, Connor surprised Marty. Just moments ago, Connor had appeared to disagree with everything Marty had been saying.
"It's like coach says in practice," Jerome said. "We have to focus for seven innings to be great. Every play, every at-bat, whether it's ours or not."
"Or every pitch," Rodney said. "I do good some innings and some innings I suck, because I don't focus like I should. I think I'm too good to put everything I got into every pitch. Yeah, I'm good, but like Marty says, I'm not great." Rodney was coming over to Marty's side as well.
Eric wanted to chime in about his play at second, but at the last second decided not to. He realized that this little session was about the sophomores taking the leadership role expected of the older boys on the team. They had been at odds with each other, and at times with the freshmen, all season. They had never really looked at each other, or at themselves, and discussed what it was they should be doing as a team.
Marty went on talking. "Remember last year when Connor had his problem with Coach Miller and the team was going to have that kegger and all get drunk. We kind of got to thinking our shit didn't stink, and I think that's where we are right now. It's like we didn't learn from it." Marty pointedly did not mention his crossing Kevin's imaginary line. "It's like some of us are still pissed at not getting jackets, and pissed at having to work hard, and pissed because we're not as good as other teams, and all pissed at each other about something. The way I see it, it's time to quit being pissed off at each other and get pissed off at the team we play. We need to lay it all out every game like we did in eighth grade."
Marty took a deep breath and went on, his eyes blazing from his inner fire. "I'm tired of the bullshit we got from the coaches about us learning from being shitty and getting our asses kicked in California, so we'll learn how to win. Well, I'll tell you what I think. I think you learn how to win by fucking winning. Hoping we'll learn in two years to become state high school champions is total fucking bullshit. We learn how to win that championship by winning now, not learning about winning later. I'm fucking tired of waiting to learn how to win. I say we show these California assholes that they aren't the only ones who know how to play the fucking game of baseball. I say we get our uniforms filthy and kick some California ass."
The only sound in the dining car was the din of the steel wheels on the welded steel rails and the hum of the air-conditioning system. Connor got up out of his seat and started picking the scraps of paper off of the floor. "Nobody but us can tear us into pieces. Tonight we're going back to being solid."
He stood up and walked to Marty's table, where Marty was still standing. He wrapped his arms around his sometime friend and sometime rival. "Marty, you rock. You're the man. I'm with you all the way and I'm sorry I wasn't before. I was fucking wrong, dude, and I won't be that wrong again." Once again, Eric looked at Noah and a silent thought passed between them: Connor will never fail to surprise us.
During the meeting the two coaches were enjoying cold sodas in the Sightseer Lounge, the next car back from the dining car. "You were much too sappy," Coach Miller said.
"That was the idea," Coach Sanders told him. "Sometimes you piss them off by yelling at them. Sometimes you piss them off by not yelling and not telling them what they expect to hear. Sometimes you just have to let them yell at each other."
"The only question is, will that psychology work?"
"I don't know. All I know about that group is that they function better when they police themselves. I'm just trying to get the process started. For all I know they're discussing fund raisers and telling themselves that they're playing just fine."
Just then the players started parading out of the dining car and into the lounge car, with Connor and Marty in the lead, determined looks on their faces. They acknowledged the coaches, but continued through the lounge. The rest of the boys followed, looking serious and resolute. The coaches could see this was not the flippant group that had entered the dining car an hour ago.
Coach Sanders looked at Coach Miller. "I don't think they spent their time discussing fund raisers."
<Thursday, June 25>
The "Coast Starlight" arrived in Salinas at five after twelve, about fifteen minutes late. Their rented vans were at the station and the team was soon checking in to their motel. The temperature was in the upper 70s and the boys were eager to hit the pool. The coaches warned them about overexerting themselves since they had a game at eight that evening.
Noah and Eric were chilling at the deep end of the pool, holding themselves to the deck with their arms. Austin paddled over to them and placed himself next to Eric.
"That was some meeting last night," Austin said. "You guys really get into it. I didn't know that Marty was like that, getting all inspirational or whatever he was doing."
"Believe me, it's a first for him. But ever since he's sobered up, he's become more and more our leader," Eric said.
Noah agreed up to a point. "There were times he's disappeared," Noah said. "I don't think he always likes being the leader, not like Eric here does."
"I could never go off on a rant like he did," Eric said.
"You don't need to. You lead in other ways, like getting our whole organization created. But he's very much become a major force on this team."
"Well, whoever leads who, I'm sure glad my uncle hooked me up with you guys back before seventh grade," Austin said.
"So are we, Austin. You've been just like a regular part of our team, even if you only play for us once a year," Eric said.
"Hell, without you guys it would have taken me forever to find out I was gay."
Noah and Eric both stared at him wide-eyed. "You are?" they asked in unison.
Austin gave them both an embarrassed smile and they both gave him giant hugs. "I knew there was a reason Austin was supposed to be picked up by us," Noah said. "Other than baseball, that is."
That night they would be playing a team from Santa Clara. There were sixteen teams in the tournament, eight from the Salinas/Monterey area, three from the San Jose area, one from Fresno, one from San Luis Obispo, and three from out of state. The out of state teams were the Falcons and two teams from Reno, Nevada. The tournament had started Wednesday with four opening games, and four more were being played that day, Thursday.
The Falcons arrived at the baseball complex around seven and watched some of the five-thirty game on the field where they would play their game. A team from Carmel was playing one of the Reno teams. The Falcons would be playing either the winner or loser of that game the next day depending on how they did in their own game.
About fifteen minutes after the Falcons arrived, the Santa Clara team showed up. The Falcon players could see them from their vantage point in the bleachers.
"Damn, those are some big dudes," Kraig said.
"We're not tiny," Hunter told him.
"We got a few big guys, but they're all big. I mean they look like they have a whole team all as big as Carl and Connor and Marty. We aren't close to that big."
"It just means they will be knocked down that much farther when we beat them," Eric said.
"I bet their pitcher throws a hundred miles an hour," Lars said.
"You guys sound like you weren't listening last night," Eric said.
"We were, but it was the older guys who did all the talking," Hunter said.
"And it was the younger guys, like us, who must not have thought what the older guys said applied to them."
"They are the ones who were arguing all the time," Kraig said.
"Remember Coach's piece of paper?" Eric asked them.
"Sure, who could forget it?" Hunter said.
"It sounds to me like you guys are tearing us freshmen off of the sheet. Remember what Connor said about us being solid and nobody tearing us apart? He meant all of us, not just them. The team is the whole bunch of us," Eric said.
Kevin spoke for the first time saying that Eric was right. "Just remember when we were seventh graders and the older guys were eighth graders and we went undefeated. Nobody cared who was in what grade, all we cared about was our team. We can't forget that. One solid piece of paper, and nobody tears us apart."
Everybody nodded as if they agreed, but Eric wasn't sure how heartfelt that agreement was. Only the start of the game would show if anything had changed with the Falcons since they left Mayfield for this trip.
While Coach Miller hadn't named a team captain, Marty, as the chair of the Go to State Team, was de facto captain for the tournament. At Scott's behest ("Tails never fails"), he called tails at the coin flip and won. The Falcons would be the home team for the first game. Coach Miller didn't name the starting pitcher until after dinner, although everybody figured that since he had the most days' rest the starter would be Eric. It turns out everybody figured correctly. Eric was named the starter.
As Eric took the mound to start the game, he felt surprisingly confident, even when the first batter for the Athletics stepped into the batter's box. The A's were wearing green and gold just like the Major League team, with Athletics scripted across their chests. They strutted confidently, their cockiness saying that a team from some small town in Washington State that nobody every heard of didn't stand a chance against a team that was 26-6 playing teams far better than that puissant team.
But Eric didn't worry about that as he located his first two pitches for called strikes and ended up getting the A's leadoff man to strike out on a 2-2 count. That out gave his confidence another boost and his mind locked out the distractions around him and focused on Kevin's signals and Kevin's glove. He didn't think about who the batter was, or how big he was, or how much more experienced he was. Eric had always had the ability to concentrate consistently, but as the game started he found himself in almost another dimension.
Nobody knew whether what happened over the first five innings was because of Marty's outburst on the train, because of Coach Sanders tearing up the sheet of paper, because of what Eric had said in the bleachers, or because it was just time for the team to come together and step up their game, and nobody cared. All they knew was that the five innings had Marty making a diving stop of a hot shot down the line and barely nipping the batter at first; it had Rich getting his uniform dirty and then some as he took away a base hit up the middle with a running, diving grab of a line drive; it had to do with Jerome making a pair of running catches on balls that a high school sophomore wasn't supposed to get to, let alone catch; it had to do with Lars making a leaping catch with his back to the right field wall that would foreshadow an even better catch in three year's time; and it had to do with Eric being more than just a talented freshman pitcher—it had to do with him being a pitcher able to come up big in a big game. After those first five innings the game was a scoreless tie, with each team having two hits and Eric giving up the only walk. Neither team had committed an error in the field.
Eric started the top of the sixth by giving up a single on his first pitch, which he left up in the batter's hitting zone. The next hitter popped up, but the third batter of the inning hit a line shot over Scott's head that he barely missed catching. That put runners on first and third with only one out.
Eric knew that Coach Miller had had Rich warm up between innings. He understood that if he allowed another batter to reach base in this inning he probably would be relieved by Rich. But he also didn't care about what he knew—his only goal was to get the next hitter out and limit the damage in the inning to one run scored at the most.
Up in the stands Coach Sanders was sitting with Seth McCall and George Bednarzyck. "Hell of a game the kids are playing," Seth said.
"Somehow they looked a lot more locked in and focused than what I've seen most of this summer," George said.
"For whatever reason, they've decided to step it up this game," Coach Sanders said. He was certain he knew the reason and was hopeful the train trip south had helped the team purge some of the difficulties that had been plaguing them. But as much as he liked and respected the two men he was sitting with, he understood that there were certain team issues that stayed with the team.
"We seem to have attracted a bit of crowd," Seth said. The game on the other field was somewhat one-sided, and most of the observers had come over to watch the action in what was one of the best played games of the tournament so far.
The count was 1-1 when Kevin gave him the signal for a changeup. Eric shook it off, but Kevin repeated it, and Eric shook him off again. Kevin called time and came out to the mound for a quick chat with Eric.
"You've trusted me all game, why not on this pitch?" Kevin asked.
"I was just thinking...,"
"Don't fucking think, throw what I tell you to throw." Kevin spun around and trotted back behind the plate.
Once again he signaled for a changeup. This time a chagrined Eric nodded yes to the pitch selection and uncorked a beautiful change that had the hitter way out in front. He got just enough of the ball to hit a bounding grounder to Noah at second. Noah charged the ball, deciding that even with the infield playing in there was no way he could throw out the runner from third going home. He also knew that the hitter was a slow-footed catcher, and he'd decided in advance that if he had the opportunity he'd gamble on turning a double play.
Eric watched the play as if it was in slow motion. He watched as Noah came in a couple of steps to field the ball, turn to his right and flip it to Rich at second. He watched Rich step on the base and avoid the sliding runner as he fired the ball to Scott at first, the ball beating the oncoming runner by two steps. He pumped his fist as the first base umpire called the runner out, completing the double play that prevented the run from scoring. The game was still scoreless.
"Great play, Noah, Awesome, play," Eric shouted as the team left the field. "Way to hang in at second, Rich," he added, as Rich caught up to them. Now the Falcons needed to score some runs.
They got off to a good start when Marty led off the inning with a line drive single to left. He smiled internally as he saw the signal from Coach Miller, and on the second pitch he was on his way to second, beating the throw there and picking up a stolen base.
Scott was next and he struck out. That brought Carl to the plate with a runner on second and one out.
"This is where we would have had a boner rally last year," Noah said to Kraig.
"Not with a thousand people looking into the dugout," Kraig said, exaggerating the crowd size some.
"True. But we can still think it."
Carl was not the same kid Eric had met when he first came to Mayfield. While he was not yet the well-chiseled athlete he would become as an upper classman, he wasn't the overweight fat boy he'd been as a sixth grader either. He had worked hard to build up his upper body strength and the strength in his legs. He now had a confidence that he didn't have at that time, as he came to realize his potential as a talented and powerful hitter. That power went on display on a 2-0 pitch that he sent into orbit, slamming the ball high over the left-center field fence for a two-run homer. That brought an explosion of joy from the Falcon dugout.
It was also cause for cheering in the stands. Many of the observers wanted the A's to lose simply because they were the better team, and they'd rather see their team play the Falcons. Some observers were rooting for the Falcons, because they were the underdog and were obviously playing their asses off. Also, some parents, who flew down that afternoon, had arrived. Carl's father, Hunter's parents, the twin's father (along with Korey), Danny's parents, and Eric's parents had all arrived from Mayfield. Coach Ecklund, his wife, and son Chandler were there, too. Rodney and Jerome's parents would be arriving on Friday.
Connor was up next, pinch-hitting for Kevin. He launched the next pitch high into the air to left and over the fence. The Falcons had back-to-back home runs and a three-run lead.
Coach Miller asked Kevin if Eric still had gas in his tank.
"He's good, coach. That first hit last inning he hung the pitch bad, but the other hit was off a good pitch."
Coach Miller told Eric he was going out to pitch the seventh so he could save Rich's innings. What Coach Miller didn't say, but Eric instinctively understood, was that Rich would be coming in if Eric got into trouble.
But Eric never got into trouble. It was as if when the seventh inning came, Santa Clara realized they didn't have a chance against the little upstarts from the little town in the state they knew nothing about. A strikeout, a foul pop-up behind the plate to Kevin, and a grounder to Rich finished off the Athletics. The Falcons had an upset 3-0 win with Eric pitching a nifty four-hit shutout.
By the time the team got back to their motel it was after eleven. Sleeping, or trying to sleep, in the coach seats of the "Coast Starlight" the night before left them feeling tired. Following the battle on the ball field, they were ready to sleep. Sexual fun never entered their minds. Nobody had the energy to even get a boner. That didn't stop the boyfriends from sleeping with each other, however. Kevin and Lars, Kraig and Hunter, Rich and Marty, Eric and Noah, and even Danny and Carl, slept as pairs. Chandler and Korey had their own room, adjacent to the room their fathers shared. They had a lone queen bed in their room, which suited them perfectly. Since they had no excuse not to have sex, they managed to do what came naturally to them, the two of them enjoying a sixty-nine.
Their game the next day was scheduled for eight pm. They would be playing one of the Reno teams, the Condors, who had defeated one of the Salinas teams, 9-2. Austin was slated to start this game and he knew the Reno team was not going to score nine runs against him.
He was right in that regard. The Condors would only manage to score three runs. Two of them scored in the second inning, and the damage could have been worse when Marty made a nice pickup of a grounder to his left, but threw hurriedly to first with two runners on. His throw skipped into the dirt, but Connor, who started this game at first, made a great scoop and came up with the ball. The batter was out by a step, ending the inning.
Marty made up for his near error by going deep. His two run homer tied the game in the fourth. The Falcons then scored four more runs in the fifth on a flurry of hits, walks, and a couple of Condor errors, as they took a 6-2 lead. Austin ran into some trouble in the sixth and Rich came in to finish off the game. The Falcons ended up with a 6-3 win. The tournament was down to four undefeated teams, and, to the surprise of everybody but the players from Mayfield, one of them was the Falcons. The little team from the small down of Mayfield was becoming the darlings of the tournament with their inspired, hard- nosed play.
Again, except for Korey and Chandler, the two soon to be seventh graders, who were acting as bat boys, everybody was in bed and asleep almost as soon as they got back to the motel.
Their game Saturday was scheduled for eleven a.m. If they won, they'd be playing at eight that evening. If they lost, they'd be playing at five.
"Remember, we didn't come here to learn any lessons," Marty reminded everybody the next morning as they sat down to breakfast in the banquet room of the motel restaurant. They'd had to get up early, and everybody looked bleary eyed.
"We hear ya," Connor said. "Fucking dudes here don't know who they're dealing with."
The team the Falcons were dealing with was another one from the Salinas, the Kings. Scott started, but because he'd pitched only five days before, Coach Miller put him on a 60 pitch limit. That was good enough to get him through the first four innings. The Falcons were ahead 2-1 when Lars came in to pitch the top of the fifth. He gave up a run on a deep drive over the fence by the clean-up hitter of the Kings.
But, like Eric, he was able to enjoy some amazing defense behind him. Each Falcon player simply went all out on every play. Hunter made a diving grab in left, and Eric dove for, and caught, a sinking liner at second. In the sixth, Kraig threw out a runner at home from right field as Kevin blocked the plate perfectly and the runner slid right into his glove.
Rich pitched a scoreless top of the seventh. The score was still tied going into the bottom of the seventh. Eric led off the seventh with a walk and then stole second. Noah pinch hit for Kraig, bunting Eric over to third. The winning run was now 90 feet away from home. But not for long as Marty hit a long fly to center. The center fielder had to back up a couple of steps, losing any momentum for a throw home. Eric tagged third, waiting for the ball to touch the fielder's glove. As soon as it did, he was racing home, scoring without a play being made on him. They won 3-2 and were now one of two undefeated teams remaining.
The other undefeated team was the Fresno Sky Hawks. Coach Miller and Coach Sanders had made one error in their pitching calculations. They truly didn't think that the Falcons would remain in the winners' bracket. They were hoping they would win at least one game and stay out of the consolation game bracket, where the teams who lost their first two games ended up. Coach Miller had planned to use Rodney by now, but as the team kept winning, he kept putting off pitching him. Now he was at the spot where a decision needed to be made. He had two choices as to whom to start in the Saturday evening game.
He could start Rodney, who was the team ace, in this game, and go with a committee of remaining pitchers in Sunday's championship game if they won. If they lost to Fresno, he was positive he didn't have the pitching needed to win the game on Sunday to get into the championship game as the team with one loss. Or he could use the committee of pitchers in this game, and save Rodney for either the championship game if they won, or the play-in game Sunday morning if they lost. Either way, their chances of winning at least one game on Sunday were enhanced if he could pitch Rodney Sunday. For that reason he decided to start Vince, and then run through the pitchers he had left and hope for the best.
One thing Coach Miller did know from what he'd observed: Fresno was the best team in the tournament, but only slightly better than Santa Clara, a team they had already defeated. In fact Santa Clara was knocked out of the tournament in its fourth game while his Falcons were undefeated.
When game time arrived, the coaches and captains met with the ump at home plate. Once again tails didn't fail and the Falcons were the home team.
One thing that should be noted about the world of sports is the importance of that indefinable word, momentum. Sometimes momentum takes the form of a team coming through in the right places and making the needed defensive plays, and sometimes it comes in the form of that other indefinable word, luck. The first three wins for the Falcons were all about getting the key hits and making the key plays, with maybe a hint of luck. But their game against the Fresno Sky Hawks was more of the second kind of momentum, with a few keys plays thrown into the mixing pot.
The luck began in the top of the first inning. A nervous Vince gave up a walk to start the inning. The runner stole second on the first pitch to the second batter, who then drilled the next pitch for a run-scoring single. Vince then walked the next two hitters and watched helplessly as the fifth hitter got all of a high fastball and sent it soaring over the right field fence for what looked like a grand-slam home run. But the umpire had a clear view of the ball and correctly signaled that it had cleared the fence foul. The Falcons had come within inches of falling into a 5-0 hole.
"No problem, Vince," Eric chattered from second. "It's just a long strike."
Vince then struck that batter out on the next pitch and got the following batter to pop up to Eric at second. He had escaped the inning allowing only a run.
The luck continued in the bottom of the third when Eric slid into home, barely missing the plate as the catcher put the tag on him. But the plate umpire was blocked on the play by the catcher and thought Eric had touched the plate, calling him safe. That led to an argument, but the call wasn't changed. That run tied the score at one apiece.
More luck came their way in the top of the fifth with Hunter pitching and the Sky Hawks ahead 5-2. The Sky Hawks had runners on first and third with two outs when the batter hit a hard grounder up the middle that had base hit written all over it—except the ball hit second base and bounced right into Rich's glove as he moved over to cover second. His momentum took him right across second to force the runner coming in from first to end the inning.
A base again played a role in the bottom of the sixth. The Sky Hawk pitcher got two quick outs then walked the next two hitters, Eric and Rich. Marty hit a hard shot to third, which the third baseman was ready to make a play on—except the ball hit the base, bounced over the third baseman's head and rolled into foul territory. The third baseman and the left fielder chased after it. By the time one of them got it, Eric was scoring another run, cutting the Fresno lead to 5-3.
"The base giveth and the base taketh away," Noah observed.
But the biggest piece of luck was that the Sky Hawks had only scored five runs. They were hitting the committee of Falcon pitchers hard and had multiple runners on base every inning. But, if they weren't having balls go just foul, or hitting the base and falling into the fielder's glove, they were hitting the ball squarely only to see the ball either go directly into a Falcon's glove or get run down by a good play. While the Mayfield players had always been excellent defensive players, it was in this tournament that they found out how good their defense could actually be. Defense was to become their trademark in the ensuing years.
But even with the good defense and with Vince, Jerome, Hunter, and Kraig escaping numerous jams, the Falcons still trailed 5-3 going into the bottom of the seventh. Connor led off the inning with a home run to left, the ball barely clearing the fence. The Falcons were not ready to lose just yet. The Fresno lead was cut to 5-4.
Hunter then hit a soft grounder to short, but, by the time the shortstop could field it, he had no play at first. Kevin followed with a soft line drive that barely got over the reach of the second baseman. There were now runners on first and second with nobody out. The winning run was on first.
That brought Jerome to the plate. He hit a high fly to deep right field, deep enough to advance Hunter to third base with the tying run. With Eric at the plate, Kevin stole second as the Sky Hawk catcher held on to the ball rather than risk having the tying run come in from third. Eric swung at the next pitch and fouled it off, evening the count at 1-1. On the third pitch of the at-bat, he grounded back to the pitcher and was an easy out at first. The runners held on the play.
Rich was the next batter. He was unable to score the runners either, but he did draw a walk, loading the bases. That put the game in Marty's hands. It was fitting that the game should be riding on his bat since it was his impassioned talk in the dining car of the "Coast Starlight" that had the effect of getting the team focused on winning, as opposed to just making a good showing.
Marty took two balls, then saw what looked like a fat pitch come on the third pitch. It wasn't as good as it looked and he lofted a weak pop-up to short left-center. The Sky Hawks were ready to celebrate their win as soon as the ball landed into a glove, and the Falcons were certain they would be playing in the play-in game at ten the next morning.
The shortstop turned his back to the field and ran out, the left fielder ran in, the center fielder ran in harder, and the two runners headed for home since there were two outs and they could run on contact. The ball came down out of the evening sky right in the center of the triangle formed by the three Sky Hawk fielders. None of the three could get to the landing spot in time as the ball fell in for the game winning hit.
The celebration by the Falcons was a subdued one. They knew they could be meeting the Fresno team again the next afternoon for the tournament championship. Eric, Marty, and Kevin all yelled at everyone to keep cool. They did not want to show up the Sky Hawks, at least not after this game. The Falcons realized that Lady Luck had smiled on them the entire seven innings. The Sky Hawks couldn't believe they'd lost a game in which they'd dominated the other team as badly as they had dominated the Falcons.
It was the Sky Hawks who would be meeting the Salinas Kings at ten Sunday morning. The loser would be out, finishing in third place. The winner would play the Falcons at one o'clock. If the Falcons won, they would be the tournament champions. If they lost, then they would have to play that team again, with the winner taking first and the loser taking second. That second game was called the "if" game, as it would be played only if the team with one loss beat the undefeated team.
Rodney was going to be the starting pitcher. Coach Miller had managed to save his ace for the title game. Nobody had to say what they were thinking, including Rodney. If they didn't win the first game, the committee of pitchers would have to start the second game. All of them realized that momentum or no momentum, it was unlikely that they would have all of the lucky pieces fall into place the way they had against the Sky Hawks. They wanted the championship badly, and they had no desire to get to a second, or "if" game, a game they stood a good chance of losing.
Next: Stepping it Up