Baseball Pals Read Online Free PDF Page A

of the driveway. Jimmie caught a glimpse of him before he got behind the next building.
    “Wishy!” he shouted. “Wishy Walters!”
    Wishy poked his head around the corner and waved. “Hi, Jimmie!”
    “Come here!” Jimmie motioned.
    Wishy came forward. His heels clicked on the cement driveway.
    “Would you like to hit me some grounders?” asked Jimmie.
    “Grounders?” Wishy’s forehead puckeredin a frown. “You’re a pitcher. Why do you want me to hit you grounders?”
    Jimmie thought a moment. He didn’t know whether to tell Wishy. But Wishy was a good friend. He could trust Wishy with a secret.
    “If I can get Paul back on the Planets, I’ll play an infield position,” Jimmie said. “I don’t think I’ll ever be a pitcher,
     Wishy.”
    “Oh, sure, you will,” said Wishy. “All you need is control. You have a lot of speed, Jimmie.”
    “But time is going fast, Wishy. The day when we play our first league game will be here before we know it. And we’re not ready.
     We’ve lost every practice game we’ve played.”
    “But we’ve only played two,” argued Wishy. “Anyway, Paul won’t play with us now. He’s going to stick with the Red Rockets.”
    Jimmie paled. “How do you know?”
    “He told me,” said Wishy. “And when Paul says something, he means it.”
    Jimmie stared at the ground. “But—he was my best friend. He’ll play with us if I tell him he can pitch. I’m sure he will.”
     The thought of it excited him. “Come on, Wishy. Hit me grounders!”
    “Okay,” said Wishy. “If you want me to.”
    Wishy tossed the ball up just as Ervie had. But he hit it. Jimmie caught the ball on a hop. He threw it back to Wishy, who
     caught it, and hit it back to him. At first he hit it easy, then harder. The tennis ball would bounce across the lawn like
     a wild rabbit. Sometimes Jimmie missed it. But most of the time he caught it.
    He began to like it.
    “Wait!” he said. “I’ll get my baseball and glove!”
    This was more like the real thing. A couple of times Wishy hit the ball over the fence and Jimmie sent Ervie after it.
    Finally Jimmie had to sit down.
    “Boy, I’m tired!” he said. He sprawled out on the lawn. His chest heaved.
    When he caught his breath he sat up. “Will you come over after supper, Wishy?”
    Wishy nodded. “Sure.”
    “Thataboy!” said Jimmie.

13
    T he Planets had batting practice that afternoon. Jimmie pitched to four men. He didn’t do any better than he had before, so
     Mr. Nichols asked Johnny Lukon to pitch to the batters. Johnny was good at it. A lot better than Jimmie.
    “I don’t know what I’m going to do with you,” Mr. Nichols said as Jimmie waited for his turn to bat. “I thought your control
     was improving, but I guess it isn’t. You have speed, and a nice curve. If you had control, you’d be the best pitcher in the
     league.”
    Jimmie didn’t say anything. What Mr.Nichols had just told him didn’t make him feel bad. He wasn’t worried, or hurt.
    His turn to bat came. He swung at the first four pitches without missing. The fifth throw was high and he missed it by a mile.
     He knew he shouldn’t have swung at it. But he felt as if he could hit anything today.
    After the boys hit, Mr. Nichols had the infielders practice. Jimmie sat on the bench and watched them. He knew the routine.
     The third baseman would catch the ball and throw it to first. The first baseman would throw it home. Home to third again,
     and back around the horn.
    He watched Lou Rodell at short. Lou seemed to be afraid of grounders. He would back up a lot. Jimmie noticed that Mr. Nichols
     didn’t hit the ball too hard to him.
    After infield practice was over, Mr. Nichols called the boys together.
    “I’ve arranged another game with the Pirates,”he said. “They didn’t beat us as bad as the Mohawks did. The game will be played here tomorrow afternoon at two o’clock. Tell
     your folks to come if they’d like to.”
    Jimmie didn’t tell his mother