81 – The Fourth Inning

81 – The Fourth Inning

By Aramis Thorn

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

At this writing post-season baseball is under way.  My Braves lost last night.  Hope is the eternal flame of all who love baseball. 

Fourth Inning

Warm Up

  

Joe takes the mound and lazily stretches as he waits for Jack.  While the bat boy straps on Jack’s shin guards Jack puts his hand back in the ice bucket.  As he trots to the plate Jack notices how relaxed the kid looks.  He squats down for the eight and realizes that he is losing concentration.  What his years have taught him is that if you think about records and chasing them you lose performance.  Jack is a man of reason and also a romantic.  He is just superstitious enough to show respect to long held baseball traditions.

He takes the eight and vows to focus on pitches and not mention anything to his young pitcher.  The next two batters could be historical.  Jack chuckles inwardly.  Historical is three immaculate inning.  He has never witnessed nor dared to dream anything like it.   Every pitch matters.  He throws the last warm up pitch down to second base and it makes its way around the horn, eventually returning to Joe.

Pitch 28

Stretch Franklin ambles from the on deck circle to the plate.  He looks down at Jack, “So I could be the tie.  Can’t let that happen.”

Jack looks up and smiles, “We will see Stretch.”  Once again, and not for the last time Jack forces thoughts about records from his head mind.

Garner Patch is aware too.  He brushes the plate and takes extra care in doing it.  Returning to his spot behind Jack he calls, “Let’s go.  This is the stuff that gets in the way of baseball.  Then again what would baseball be without it?”

Jack signals to Joe for a curve ball, outside.  Joe nods as if nothing is going on but pitching.  The release is perfect.  The ball flies true.  Stretch takes the pitch.

“Steeerike one,” spits Patch.

The crowd roars.  Joe looks perplexed but smiles wanly.

Jack allows hope but not distraction.  He tosses the ball back to Joe. 

The red numbers read 91 mph.

Pitch 29

Jack settles and signals.  Stretch may think he cannot allow something but he has trouble with the curve.  Someone’s day is about to be made one way or the other.  He calls for curve, same place and same speed.  This time Stretch swings.  This time he misses.

“Steeerike two,” Calls Patch.

Again the roar is deafening.  Joe looks in to Jack for explanation.  Jack points to the K’s above his left shoulder hoping to avoid anything complicated or distracting.  Joe shrugs and hands out his glove for the ball.  Jack is pleased with that response.

Pitch 30

Jack ponders the next pitch. Stretch has waited a curve and chased one.  He will expect a curve.  He knows that Jack knows his weakness.  Jack calls for the changeup.  Joe shakes it off.  Jack offers the breaking ball.  Joe nods. Jack realizes that Joe comprehends the batter’s attitude and weaknesses.

Stretch verbally pokes at Jack, “Having trouble getting the kid to listen?”

Jack rarely says anything to batters to goad them.  He cannot resist.  “We’re just agreeing on the right pitch to get you out. Do you feel lucky punk?”  He says this last part in his best Dirty Harry voice.

Garner Patch chuckles.  Joe stretches, winds, and deals.  The pitch breaks perfectly.  Stretch reacts perfectly from Jack’s perspective.  He swings early and high.  The light between ball and bat is a safe two inches.

Garner Patch’s call of “Steeerike three” is drowned out by the crowd as it cheers what it already knows.  Joe Zander has just tied the consecutive strike out record for the major leagues.  Only a few comprehend that he has done it on only 27 pitches.  Joe is also one third of the way to a fourth immaculate inning. 

Pitch 31

Jack ponders how grateful he is that this is a home game.  If this record is to be broken it should be broken here on the field where he has caught pitches for twenty years.  It is also the right evening for it.  It is the first cool evening of what has been a torpid summer.  Record heat and humidity have plagued the southern states.  The humidity lingers but the cool breeze moving from the visiting dugout to left field is refreshing.

Paul Simmons moves into the box without a word.  No player on either team misses what is happening here.  None of them has ever seen it.  No one is still playing who was playing when Tom Seaver struck out ten in a row in the spring of 1970.  No one has ever had three immaculate innings.  Joe is one strike out into his fourth and one batter away from the record.

Jack looks up at Simmons.  The batter’s toes are barely in the box and he is leaning in toward the plate.  He looks toward the mound but mutters self-importantly to Jack, “Either way I am part of baseball history forever just because I am at bat.”

Morris says nothing and signals fastball, low.  He leaves the heat setting up to Joe.  So much of it is up to Joe.  So much of baseball is about control.  It is about the holding and giving of control.  It is allowing the physics to control things in between.  Baseball is about a game that dances with the laws of the universe.  It is why God is at the center of every game whether he is invited or not.  Joe is in control of the moment.  As he winds the stadium grows silent.  The four seam fastball leaves the hand right where it should.  Jack knows it will hurt.

Simmons swings too high and too late. 

“Stee…” Garner Patch is drowned out by the cacophony that erupts from the stands. 

Jack was correct.  It hurt.  He needs to slow things down and the cheers will help.  As he tosses the ball back he eyes the pitch clock.  103 mph.

Pitch 32

Simmons is set up with the fastball.  Now it is time to get him off of the plate.  Jack signals curve, inside, and slow.  Joe nods his understanding.  So far the kid has put the ball exactly where Jack wants it on every pitch.  This one is no different.

The kid pauses at the top of his stretch and then deals.  The ball appears to be headed right down the pipe.  Jack has set up center to encourage the deception.  They cash in on Simmons’ trouble hitting curve balls and the fact that the last two he saw were hot curves. Simmons swings early.

“Steeerike two,” calls Patch but only Jack can hear him above the din.

Jack smiles but says nothing.  The pitch was perfect.  He is sure Tom Seaver is about to be second in the history books. Jack forces the thought from his head until he tosses the ball back to Joe.  Joe actually winks at him.

The red clock reads 82 mph. 

Pitch 33

The batter looks down at Jack in disbelief.  He also defiantly crowds the plate again.  This is just what Jack needs.  He signals for the slider, inside, high.  Joe grins and nods.  Joe winds and hurls.

This pitch and the ensuing few seconds will be replayed over and over by all the major news networks.  It will be the lead on most local news stations.  In Black River Falls, WI, Joe’s home town, it will take up most of the time for the local news sports segment.

The ball moves from hand to mitt in .477 seconds.  Simmons thinks the pitch is high and inside.  He backs away.  The ball breaks down and toward the plate.  Simmons realizes too late he has been duped.  A heartbeat of silence follows the sound of the ball landing in Jack’s mitt.

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

52,206 fans agree and make their voices heard.

Jack smiles as Simmons argues the call.  Simmons appeals to first and the first base umpire, Rowland Jenner signals him out.

The applause, cheers, and whistles last a full ninety-eight seconds.  Everyone in the stadium is standing.  Joe steps two step off the mound and politely tips his hat to the fans. 

The clock records the record breaking pitch at 97 mph.

Pitch 34

As Simmons retreats to the dugout Jack signals for the ball boy.  He trots over with three new balls for the umpire.  Jack is still holding the last pitched ball.  Garner Patch looks toward the catcher for explanation.

“We are going to be changing balls a little more often I think.  I won’t send the ball around the horn after the strikeouts if I can give it to the ball boy.  No game delay and we preserve some history.” explains Jack.

He looks down at the kid who is the ball boy.  Tim Olson, son of the team’s batting coach looks up at the catcher waiting for instructions.  “Take this ball and keep it safe for Joe,” begins Jack.  “Find me one of those sharp black markers we use for signing stuff.  Make sure it is a new one.  Bring it to me after the next batter.  Get an empty ball bag too.  Come see me after every batter until I say different.  Remember Tim, no one else touches this ball.”

Tim nods in awe.  He knows that he has just been given a bit part in the drama of true baseball history.  He will play it to the rafters.  He stuffs the ball in his uniform pocket and goes back to his chair by the dugout.  As soon as he can get the bat boy’s attention he asks him to cover while he carries out Jack’s instructions.

Vick Houseman waits patiently for the exchange to complete before stepping into the box.  Respectfully he tips his cap to Joe Zander.  He looks back and down to Jack, “You know it is my job to try and break this up, right?”

Jack smiles at the third baseman.  “I do.  You know it is my job not to let you, right?”

Jack signals changeup.

Joe throws the changeup.

Vick swings too early and too low.

“Steeerike one,” calls Patch.

“This is getting monotonous,” observes Vick.

“The fans don’t think so,” counters Jack.

Jack tosses back the ball pondering the number of consecutive strikes the kid has thrown.  He is sure they are setting new records with every pitch now.  Jack is also sure he needs to discipline his thoughts.  He relays his thoughts on the record to Vick.  The batter is unimpressed.

The red clock reads 77 mph.

Pitch 35

Jack ruminates over Vick’s last at bat.  They worked him changeup, changeup, fastball.  Repeating this with a hitter like Vick would be a mistake.  Jack calls for the curve, hot and outside.  Joe obliges.

The ball assures the batter that it is a narrow hittable off speed pitch.  It tails away to the outside just ahead of Vick’s swing.

Garner Patch calls, “Steeerike  two, batter.”

Jack looks up at his friend, “Still bored?”

The speed clock completes the tale: 93 mph.

Pitch 36

Housman, Patch, and Zander all expect for Jack to call fastball.  Jack knows that is the obvious pitch here so he calls for another changeup.  It is the perfect call and gives the kid a little rest for the arm.  Joe nods knowing that Jack is right.

Vick’s third swing and miss is almost identical to the first.  The margin of light between bat and ball is narrower than Jack would like.  A strike, however, is still a strike.

“Steeerike  three; Batter’s out” calls Patch.

The stadium erupts again in rapturous approval.

On his way to the dugout Jack meets with Tim and takes the proffered marker.  He writes the number “12” very small next to the word “Rawlings” on the ball.  He then gets the record ball back from Tim.  He writes “11” in the same place on this one.  He puts both balls in the bag that Tim acquired.  He gestures to Brooks Angelino, the club’s equipment manager.  Brooks moves over to him with his usual broad grin.

Jack hands him the bag and explains, “We are going to save the balls for Joe.  Little Tim will bring them to you.  Just keep them in the bag and keep the bag close.  Don’t call any attention to it.”

Brooks, whose summer weathered face is more like an old leather mitt nods his understanding and grins broader, “You always think more like a chess player than a baseball bum.  It must be that college education.”

Ricky Boggs leads off the bottom of the fourth with a line drive single to right.  Kent sacrifices deep to left to advance Boggs to second.  McCracken drives a hard liner that is stabbed and caught by the first baseman.  Stanley Jones fouls off seven times before he gets under one that has great height but no distance.  The second baseman reals it in for the third out leaving Boggs stranded.  At the end of the fourth inning the score stands at 0-0.