81 – The Fifth Inning

81 – The Fifth Inning

By Aramis Thorn

Here is the fifth installment of the short story as promised, Enjoy

At this posting post-season baseball is cruising along but without my beloved Braves.  They fell in three out of four games to the Dodgers. I blame my student Kyle.   Now I remember why we have spring. 

 Fifth Inning

Warm Up

As Joe trots to the mound the stadium erupts again with applause.  With true humility Joe steps to the mound and tips his hat to the eager fans.  The applause redoubles.  The thunder of it washes across the field.  Jack takes a moment to renew his agreement with Patch before Zander throws his eight.  Jack ponders that the kid seems loose from the first one.  Silence settles across the crowd as Aaron Sparks moves to the batter’s box. Garner Patch sweeps the plate and speaks to Jack and the batter.  “We are all a big part of history right now.  We will keep things professional and set an example for the kids no matter how things unfold.”

Jack nods his agreement and it is from the heart.  The game belongs to Joe but it also belongs to the fans, to the kids in the sandlot, and to history.  How they conduct themselves here will matter for a long time.  Neither Jack nor Patch had considered that Bob Cranes would bat again this inning.

Pitch 37

Patch returns to his place behind Jack and signals play ball.  Sparks begins the dance.  “So your boy is doing well.  He’s a rookie.  Can he hold up I wonder?  Have your boy give me something to hit Crackerjack.”

Jack grins beneath his mask.  “It is his job not to give you anything.  It is his job to make you earn it.”  The catcher signals full heat.

Zander sets and delivers.  The problem with hitting a fastball is the lack of time to do so.  Everything about it is timing.  This particular pitch screams in straight and true.  If Aaron Sparks swings true this ball may never land.  The problem with hitting a fastball is always timing.

Sparks chooses swing.  It is the right choice.  It is just wrong timing.  Had the pitch been an average fastball he would have launched it into the upper deck. 

Slap…swoosh.

“Steeerike one,” calls Garner Patch.

Jack feels pain flow from his palm into his wrist.  The wrist pain fades but the palm lingers. 

104 mph winks the silent red watcher.

Pitch 38

Sparks looks down at Jack.  “That was not a pitch. Your boy has a rocket launcher hidden in his arm.”

Jack nods, “My catching hand agrees.  That one left a mark.  I’ll have him take it easy on you this time.”

Morris signals changeup.  Joe winds and throws. This time the sound is swoosh…slap. 

“Steeerike two,” barks Patch.

Jack chuckles, “I thought that one would never get here.  I was about to go for a beer.”

The pitch clock mocks Aaron Sparks…72 mph.

Pitch 39

As Jack tosses the ball back to Joe he ponders what pitch is next.  He thinks slider and Joe nods approval.  The difficulty is that he can see a nuance in Joe’s stance that he has not before.  As a seasoned catcher the alarms go off.  He sets up slightly back.  Aaron Sparks tenses.  Joe pitches and the grin is in play.

The ball is moving fast but not in the right direction.  It is “sliding” from left to right instead of right to left and it is coming like lighting.  Joe hopes that Sparks has no thunder.  The swing shatters the air.  Aaron Sparks has let go all the fury of his hitting ability.  SWOOSH…and Jack almost misses the ball. 

“Steeerike three,” calls Patch.

Joe ponders the possibility of a passed ball – I guess I do not need to worry about it with no one on base.  Wait; if they have all been strikes then it might break the kid’s concentration. That settles it.  Nothing else gets by me.  So concerned about the catch is Jack that it takes a moment for the fresh blossom of pain to register. 

The clock winks 103 mph to remind him of it.

Pitch 40

As Willy Span makes his way to the plate Jack passes the ball to Tom Olson, the bat boy.  Showing his attention he lets Jack see him carefully scribe a 13 on this ball exactly where Jack had scribed 12 on the previous one.  Jack winks his approval. 

Willy steps into the box and Jack tosses a new ball to Joe.  Span looks back at his friend and counterpart.  “This is something.  Hope you are holding up alright.”

Jack grunts, “The hand really hurts but I’ll manage.”

Willy smiles at his friend, “Maybe I’ll hit one and give you some rest.”

Jack signals slider to Joe.  He knows that Span is serious.  The pitch lies to Span all the way to the glove.  He takes it thinking it outside.

“Steeerike one,” calls Patch.

Jack’s hand complains in silent rage.

88 mph smiles the pitch clock.

Pitch 41

Willy looks back at Jack.  There is no malice but there is determination.  The veteran sets his mind and stance to steel.  Jack knows his friend is a wise batter.

Jack calls for a changeup. 

Joe winds and deals.

When Willy Span swings it is a thunderous swing.  It moves through his wheel house with power and accuracy.  It moves a full third of a second ahead of the ball. 

“Steeerike two,” calls Garner Patch.

Jack is astonished by the perfection of the pitch.  It seemed to take weeks to traverse from mound to plate. 

The winking red lights blink 68 mph.

Pitch 42

Span mutters, “That is the slowest pitch I have seen all night.  I really believed he could not do it.”

“He surprised me too,” says Jack.

“All of us and then some,” quips Patch.

Jack knows that it is time for heat again. He signals 1.

Joe grins and grips for the four seam. 

Span sets and his stance says he has found the kid’s tell.

Joe winds and hurls.  The ball seems to release early.

Everyone can tell it is screaming right down the pipe.  No one, especially Span reacts soon enough.  Span should have swung sooner.  Jack should have lowered his glove slightly.

Span swings and misses.  Instead of swoosh smack it is swoosh crack.

“Steeerike three, you’re out,” calls Patch.

Jack moves out of the catcher’s stance holding the ball in his right hand and shaking his left.  He quickly tucks the glove under his arms and with some difficulty pulls his hand free.  He signals to the dugout for help.  The team trainer, Palmer Grant comes out.  Jack passes the ball to the ball boy then looks down at his left hand.

The heel is red and swollen.  Palmer immediately sprays the hand with Cramer Cold Spray®.  The instant relief belies the damage done by the pitch.  In the midst of the quiet of the moment the crowd erupts with cheers.  Jack and Palmer look around confused.

Garner Patch points toward the pitch clock.

It innocently glares 107 mph.

Tom, the ball boy writes the number 13 on it and carefully also scribes 107.

Pitch 43

Patch makes his way over to the on deck circle where Jack is getting his hand frozen.  “Are things OK Palmer,” queries the umpire?  Fifteen years in the majors have taught him never to ask the injured player.  They always say yes.

“I think he caught the fastball on his heel.  He should be alright,” assures Grant.

No one will know until hours after the game that three of the bones in Jack Morris’ hand are fractured.  He will play through the rest of the game in pain.  Every catch will hurt.  Every heater will be agony.  He is, however, keeping the kid on rails.

The palaver over Jack’s hand is interrupted by a call from home plate.  “Are we going to get on with this or is catch in need of an escort to the retirement home?”

Bob Cranes is standing at the plate sneering at the trio by his opponent’s on deck circle.   Palmer retreats to the dugout and whispers something to the equipment manager.  Garner and Jack return to the plate.  On the way Jack makes a request, “Can I have a moment to confer with my pitcher?”

Patch nods and then focuses on Cranes while Morris trots out to the mound.  The umpire reminds Bob Cranes just who is in charge of the start and stop of play.  He also reminds the batter that he will toss him if he gets out of line. Jack has a clear message he wants to send to his pitcher.

“You are doing great kid,” he starts.  Crane will be out for blood after his last outing.  Focus on me and the pitches.  He will do himself in if you do.”

“Sure thing Jack” begins the kid.  “Are you hurt?’

“I just caught the heat wrong.  Don’t you worry about that.  You just keep doing what you are doing.”  Jack pats his behind and trots back to the plate. As he passes Crane he quietly, subtly, lights the fuse.  “I told the kid to take you out.”

Jack settles behind the plate.  Crane stops into the box and pounds his bat on the plate.  Both catcher and umpire can hear Bob’s teeth grind.  Jack signals for an inside curve, slow.

Joe stretches, sets, and pitches. 

On its way to the plate the ball seems to be headed straight for the big batter.  He steps back at the same moment the ball embraces the air and curves back over the plate.

“Steeerike one,” calls Patch.

“That was BS,” growls Cranes.

“You are down a strike,” grins Morris.

The pitch clock reads 79 mph.

Pitch 44

What Crackerjack has learned is that Joe Zander puts the ball wherever he wishes.  He calls for a breaking ball in the same path, but hotter.  Cranes obliges by crowding the plate.  Jack aides the deception by setting up inside.

Joe pitches and the ball flies true.  Again Cranes is sure that he is about to get hit.  Again he ducks away.  The breaking ball breaks.  It breaks cleaner and clearer that either Jack or Garner can recall.  That the ball crosses the plate in the strike zone is obvious.  That Bob Cranes ducked too soon to know this is true as well.

“Steeerike two,” calls Patch.

Bob Cranes recovers from his escape and rounds on the umpire.  “How can anyone call that a strike?  That twerp almost took my head off.”

The big left fielder stops short or making it personal.  He knows Patch will eject him given the chance.  In his career he has been ejected by Garner Patch twice before; once in Milwaukee and once in Philadelphia.  Cranes settles back in the batter’s box.

Jack tosses the ball back to the mound.  He cannot resist a jibe at Cranes.  “So you are running away from strikes today.  I’ll ask the kid to throw something outside so you don’t have to worry so much.  Try not to chase it.”

Cranes grips the bat so tight his fingernails dig into his palms.  He keeps silent but is swearing in his mind so loudly it gives him a headache.

The pitch clock mocks him – 92 mph.

Pitch 45

As Jack watches Cranes fume he signals for an outside curve.  He promised to ask for an outside pitch.  He never promised to leave it there. 

Zander’s release is perfect.  Jack knows his release point now and it would seem that the young pitcher never misses it.

True to Zander’s will the ball sails toward the plate but outside and a bit high. 

Cranes grunts a rests back on his heels.

The ball dives down and into the strike zone.

“Steeerike three!  Batter’s out,” calls Garner Patch.

Cranes takes a full two count to process what has happened.  Then he explodes.  He wheels on the umpire baring his teeth.  “How in hell can you call that a strike?  What kind of batter do you take me for?  That ball was so far outside it should be counted a ball twice.”

Jack knows that Patch will not eject Bob yet.  The line is there but only Cranes’ toes are over it.  Morris moves out of the way and stays out of it.  He hands Tommy Owens the ball.  By the time he redirects his attention to the escalating Bob Cranes he sees that the opposition’s manager, Lou Barres is on his way to the plate.  He will not arrive in time to save his left fielder.

The rules of baseball are very clear about arguing calls with the umpire.  Bob Cranes is about to break several at once. The man grips his bat at the knees in two hands.  He unleashes his next volley of complaints and hurls the bat back up against the backstop.  “You blind son of a bitch; that ball was outside and you are just pandering to this snot nosed rookie.”

Garner Patch has a very theatrical ejection gesture.  He uses it only for the worst offenders.  In the secret places where umpires gather to share umpire stories, this tale will be told for generations to come.  The big southern man winds up with his right arm and punches his thumb skyward then to the left.  He never raises his voice but intones, “Cranes you are out of here.  Get off of MY field.”

Cranes’ yelling becomes unintelligible.  His face is lobster red and veins stand out on both sides of his neck.  Lou Barres now needs to prevent further damage by getting Cranes off of the field.  Cranes further loses his composure, assuming that his manager is not backing him.  Bob Cranes, in a career ending moment of thoughtlessness punches his own manager square on the nose sending him sprawling backwards onto the grass.  He wheels back to Garner Patch to do the same forgetting that there is another oddity about the big umpire. 

Garner Patch never removes his mask when being yelled at by a player.  During his younger years an upstart minor leaguer had punched Garner and knocked him out cold.  Ever since the man only removes his mask when necessary.  Cranes punches Patch straight in the center of his mask.  Crackerjack Morris winces as he hears the bones in the left fielder’s throwing hand snap.

It takes a moment for the dust to clear.  Everyone not involved stays clear and the visitors get their injured coach and player off the field.  This moment will be just a part of the story that will dominate the news cycle after the final out tonight.  

When the visitors finally take the field again the young Carl Seeger is in left field and Bob Cranes is on his way to Grady Memorial Hospital.  Bob will never grip a baseball well enough to throw it again.  He will finish out his days in minor coaching positions around the minor leagues.  He is cured of his ill temper but will never admit that the last pitch he saw in the majors was also the best curveball he had ever seen.  He knows it was a strike but will never tell a soul. 

As Ricky Boggs comes to the plate to lead the bottom of the fifth Garner Patch looks out to the mound.  “I want to see good pitching.  No brush backs or knock downs will be tolerated.  The first person to cause trouble on either team will get an early shower.”  He turns, brushes the plate, and returns to his place behind the catcher.

 

Boggs tags the first pitch hit to him and sends it up the middle for an easy single.

Griffon Kent battles all the way to a full count before swinging at an excellent slider and missing it for out one.

Ravenelle McCracken walks moving Boggs to second.  Stanley Jones walks as well.

With one away and the bases loaded Page Brewer short pops a checked swing right back to the pitcher.  The runners all return to their bases.

The story is bases loaded and two down as Crackerjack Morris moves to the plate.  Everyone hopes but no one more than he that he will rip one for a run or two.  The true romantics in the packed stadium wish for a grand slam.  Andy Vine takes Morris to two balls and two strikes before Jack foul tips one right back into his Will Span’s glove.  Even the foul tip sends reverberations of pain through his catching hand.  Almost apologetically Garner Patch calls him out.