Force Out Read Online Free PDF Page B

rolled his eyes. Zach covered his mouth to hide a laugh, shaking his head.
    When Joey fumbled a grounder, Butch Barrett yelled, “Come on, Riordon. Be sharp!”
    Joey flashed him a look of disgust as he made the throw to first. He wanted to tell Butch Barrett to stuff it, but he’d contained himself all season long and now wasn’t the time to start trouble. He’d had enough trouble already for one day.
    When they finished warming up, the team went through a quick set of hitting drills outside the baseline while the Pirates had the field. They still had time before the game began to sit in the dugout and study the Pirates, especially Price, whose pitches hit the catcher’s mitt like gunshots.
    â€œSee that?” Zach pointed at the pitcher. “Price’s got a curveball and a fastball.”
    â€œAnd that’s some fast fastball.” Joey kept his eyes glued on their lanky opponent whose big, hooked nose made him look like some prehistoric bird.
    The ump bellied up to the plate, and the Pirates streamed toward their dugout for a chant. Coach Barrett brought the Blue Jays together in the dugout for their own chant and a team break. Everyone put his hand into the middle. They all shouted “win,” and while most of the team took their seats in the dugout, the top of the order started warming up for real. Zach was the leadoff batter and he swung at the air. Joey batted cleanup, so he had more time. He put a weighted donut on his bat so that when he removed it, it would feel light and fast.
    Price stood on the mound and ripped three fastballs down the pipe before the ump called for the batter.
    With a helmet slightly tilted on his head, Zach scuffed up little clouds of dirt as he approached the plate, dragging his feet, to begin the game. Zach looked out at Cole Price, the feared sixth grade pitcher, as if he were bored. He actually yawned before he stepped into the box and gave one final warm-up swing.
    Just as Price went into his windup, Zach’s body coiled and shook like a little beagle ready to spring on a rabbit.
    SMACK.
    Zach ripped a line drive right through the hole between first and second. Like a blur, he rounded first. Only an exceptional throw by the right fielder kept him at second base, bouncing up and down on the bag like a pogo stick.
    â€œAtta boy, Zach!” Coach Barrett hollered as his team cheered. “That’s how to start it off!”
    The next two batters—one of them Butch Barrett—went down swinging. Price threw heat like none of them had seen all season long.
    Joey didn’t have time to gloat over Butch Barrett’s whiff. He swung his bat a few times more, unable to stop from thinking about his bad dream. He tried to clear his mind because this is something he should be looking forward to, and he knew it. He glanced up at Leah in the stands, then at his best friend on second. It was the championship game. He was a power hitter up against a fastball pitcher. It was perfect, but still, he gritted his teeth as he stepped into the box.
    â€œYou got this, buddy!” Zach bounced on second and held up a V . “ V for victory!”

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    Joey went down swinging on a 1–2 count. He cursed to himself as he stomped back to the dugout to get his glove and take the field.
    â€œCome on, Joey, head up.” Coach Barrett wore a look of concern. “Next time.”
    â€œIt happens.” Butch Barrett patted Joey on the shoulder on his way out of the dugout.
    Joey wanted to spit. He headed toward the mound, trying to forget about Price, but that wasn’t going to happen. It was Price who swung his bat in the warm-up circle, getting ready to lead off. Joey took the mound, thinking about how he wasn’t even a true pitcher, he was a first baseman, and wondering why Coach put the pressure on him to start the game instead of Zach, even though he knew the answer.
    Joey’s arm, like the rest of him, was big. He could throw fast