Roberto & Me Read Online Free PDF Page A

speaking of birthday presents…” my dad said as he pulled a wrapped package out of his closet.
    My dad hasn’t worked since his accident, and he doesn’t have a lot of money. His presents are usually stuff he picks up at the dollar store. I wasn’t expecting much when I tore off the wrapping paper. So I was totally blown away when I saw that my present was the new Nintendo portable video game system.
    â€œDad!” I exclaimed. “Where’d you get the money for this?”
    â€œYour mother chipped in on it,” he replied. “It’s from both of us.”
    I thanked him about a million times. After we had some pizza and tried out the video game system, I figured it was time to leave. My dad gets tired early, and my mom doesn’t like me riding my bike home late at night.
    â€œHey, I got a brainstorm,” Dad said as I picked up my stuff to go. “As long as you’re going back in time to see Clemente, how about doing your old man a little favor while you’re there?”
    Uh-oh. I was afraid he was going to ask me to do something. He usually does. My dad is always cooking up some get-rich-quick scheme for me to pull off for him. Like, he’ll give me money to deposit in the bank fifty years ago so he can collect the interest. Or he’ll assign me to buy up baseball cards in the past so he can sell them at today’s prices. It’s so annoying.
    â€œDad, we talked about this,” I said. “I’m not gonnado some borderline illegal thing to make money. Forget about it.”
    â€œNo, no, nothin’ like that,” Dad said. “All I want you to do is stop Clemente from getting that cheap infield hit in the 1960 World Series.”
    â€œDad!”
    â€œYou could rewrite baseball history, Butch!” he exclaimed. “You could win the World Series for the Yankees!”
    I didn’t like the idea. It sounded wrong. How could I even do that, anyway? And if I was going to change history, it would have to be for a more important reason.
    â€œHaven’t the Yankees won the World Series enough times?” I asked.
    â€œAh, I guess you’re right,” Dad said with a sigh. “But what about this? You said Clemente and Thurman Munson were teammates one year, right? And they both died in plane crashes. Well, while you’re talking Clemente out of getting on his plane, how about telling him to talk Munson out of getting on his plane?”
    â€œDad…”
    â€œThink of it as saving two birds with one stone,” he said. “Nothin’ wrong with that, is there?”
    My father looked at the portable video game system that he had just given me. Then he looked at me again.
    â€œI’ll see what I can do,” I told him.
    That’s what my mom always says to me when shedoesn’t want to make any promises. I’ll see what I can do.
    â€œFair enough,” Dad said, reaching up to hug me. “Oh, one last thing before you go. Remember how you said your only problem was that you didn’t have a Clemente card?”
    â€œYeah.”
    â€œWell, I think you might have another problem,” Dad said. “You’re gonna have a tough time convincing Clemente not to get on that plane.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œBecause Roberto Clemente didn’t speak English.”

6
Going…Going…Gone!
    OKAY, SO ROBERTO CLEMENTE WAS FROM PUERTO RICO, AND he didn’t speak English. Big deal. I really didn’t think the language barrier would be that much of a problem. I mean, how hard could it be to say “Don’t get on the plane!” in Spanish? If worst came to worst, I could always use sign language. It’s not hard to pantomime a plane crashing into the ocean.
    Of course, if I was lucky enough that my dad’s messed-up baseball card actually worked and I was able to get to Roberto Clemente, it wouldn’t hurt to know a little Spanish. I would want to have a