Junior Year Box Set

“Last night in the hotel, the cleaning lady saw me naked. I was surprised to see her at midnight,” Wolf started “… in the elevator.”

Everyone groaned. I’d warned him that one wasn’t very good.

“My dad gave me advice as to where to hide Christmas gifts from my mom … in the oven.

“Did you know David’s a hunter? He went turkey hunting last year. So, I decided to try it, and I shot my first turkey last week. Scared the hell out of everyone in the frozen food section.

“Dad told me that the best way to remember your girlfriend’s or wife’s birthday is to forget it once.

“I’m sorry to say I’ve been banned from Target. It was an honest mistake. Turns out, when the cashier said, ‘Strip down, facing me,’ she was talking about my debit card!

“Our house was robbed last week, and my dad wanted to talk to the burglar. The police told him he would have his day in court, but he wasn’t allowed to talk to him before then. My dad begged them and explained that he needed to know how he’d snuck into the house and not wakened my mom. He’d been trying for nearly twenty years and hadn’t figured it out,” Wolf said.

While they weren’t laughing, they did seem more at ease. Wolf needed to work on his material.

“I think we know what we’re supposed to do. Let’s win this,” Coach said. “Dawson, take them out.”

“‘USA’ on three. One, two, three …”

“USA!”

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Chapter 34 – Girlfriend Tryouts Thursday August 11

Luke started out in style and struck out the first Cuban batter. Then it got interesting. The next batter came up and was walked, followed by a single to left field. This was not the way we needed to start the game. Luke got his act together, and the ensuing batter popped up, and then Luke struck out the following one to get us out of the inning.

When I came up to bat, it became clear our fans were outnumbered. Ours began chanting “USA,” and the rest of the stadium would add “Sucks” at the end.

I stepped out to the on-deck circle to watch the Cuban pitcher warm up. He was a big kid with a lot of pop in his pitches. Coach Kingwood had said that he was the best pitching prospect in Cuba right now. There were scouts from many of the major league teams sitting behind home plate. I could tell from the sound of the ball hitting the glove that this kid was different from most young pitchers. That gave me a bad feeling we might have our hands full tonight.

I looked out on the field and saw two of the boys I’d practiced with, Luis and Tony. Luis’s sister, Sarita, had been the girl I’d had problems with when I was in Cuba. As I walked up to the plate, Coach Conde nodded to me, so I tipped my hat to him.

I quickly forgot about them and settled into the batter’s box.

“Come on, David set the tone,” Coach Kingwood called out from the dugout.

I watched their pitcher get settled on the mound. He then took a big windup and released a fastball. He must have felt the pressure of the game because the ball sailed on him and ended up bouncing off the backstop. Adrenaline had to be pumping through his veins, and he had overthrown the ball. He stepped off the mound and paced back and forth, talking to himself.

“Be careful. He crazy,” their catcher said in broken English.

I glanced back at him and took in the information. I wasn’t sure if he meant that as a warning to be careful, or if he was trying to get into my head. So, I decided to ignore him. I settled into my stance, and the pitch was on its way. He’d thrown another fastball, but this time he put it just outside, or so I thought. The umpire called it a strike.

I glanced back, and the umpire stared at me, daring me to say anything. I kept my thoughts to myself. If he was going to call that a strike, I would have to be more aggressive at the plate. The next pitch was just a little further outside, and it was called a ball. He followed that with another one I wasn’t sure of, so I took a cut and fouled it off.

The count was now 2–2. I had a feeling I would see another fastball outside. I took a deep breath because I felt I had the timing down and could handle his fastball. As the ball come out of his hand, I saw I’d guessed right. He’d made a mistake and put it right down the center of the plate. I concentrated on my form so I wouldn’t overswing. But when I heard the contact, I groaned inside. I’d not hit the ball dead center.

I ran hard to first as I watched the ball fly up into the stadium lights. It was a monster shot, but unfortunately, it flew about a mile high. As I rounded first, the left fielder was running full-out, and he was almost at the wall. I cringed when he jumped up to try to catch it as he pounded into the wall. The impact was enough that his hat went flying, and he crumpled to the ground. The third base umpire called me out, and that was when I realized he’d robbed me of a home run. I’d lost the ball in the lights, so I hadn’t seen him make the play.