Chapters 15 Billy's Victory
Carl Perkins had spent most of his adult life as a science teacher and baseball coach at Johnsonville High.
He loved every minute of it. He took great pleasure in watching the children blossom into young men and women in just four years.
This year was extraordinary for his science class. For most of the year, he had their undivided attention, mainly because of a couple of astronauts, John Glenn and Scott Carpenter, who amazed the world by orbiting their spacecraft into deep space.
As for this year’s baseball team, that was a different story — five wins, nine losses.
With school out and another graduating class off to make their fortunes, it was time for Carl to concentrate on his summer job: coaching the Johnsonville little leaguers.
Today would be the final day of practice before their season opener on Monday in Clarkson, and today, his 10-member squad was about to increase by one.
All the players were instructed to wear their new uniforms. Carl had learned the hard way from previous seasons that the players' uniforms didn’t always fit snugly.
A little uniform switching among the players or a quick sewing job from Mom over the weekend could prevent a disaster.
Carl was excited about this year’s team. He had everyone back from last year’s team — including Willie Turner, who had won three games for the Tigers as a 10-year-old.
Unfortunately, the Tigers won only four games last season and failed to qualify for the district championship for the fifth consecutive year.
Willie had a live fastball and a nice change-up last season, but after a week of practice, it looked like he was throwing even harder, and his change-up had a little more bite to it.
Willie was Milton Turner's son, the head skycap at the regional airport. The Turners lived in Batesville, a small community ten miles west of the airport, which meant it took Milton about an hour to get his son to all the practices.
Milton was tall and looked to be in perfect shape. According to Willie, his father was an all-state basketball player and still owns the single-season scoring record at his former high school in Kansas.
Carl was also lucky to have two sets of twins returning—outfielders Ryan and Michael O’Hara, first baseman Chucky Jameson, and his brother Jimmy, a third-sacker.
The O’Hara family moved to Johnsonville two years ago, and Frank O’Hara, a businessman from Denver, bought out the town's only Ford dealership.
Ryan and Michael, both 12-year-olds, were the team's tallest players, measuring slightly over 5 feet 8 inches tall. Ryan, who had the stronger arm of the two, played center, and Michael, who led the team in home runs last season, played right field.
The Jameson twins were the team's oldest players. The twins would turn thirteen in September, and because of their experience, the other players voted Chucky and Jimmy this year’s co-captains.
Chucky had the strongest arm of the two brothers and a knack for knocking down hard-hit balls, so Carl had no trouble penciling him in at third base.
As for Jimmy, a left-hander, he was used to hauling in his brother’s throws and was a perfect fit at first base.
The hard-nosed, tough-as-nails player on the team was Corky Calhoun. Corky, who had recently turned twelve, was the Tigers’ catcher.
Corky grew up on a horse ranch about 20 miles outside of town. Getting bucked by a bronco was nothing new to Corky, so Carl figured he could put the youngster behind the plate and leave him there. Corky would be able to handle the catching duties without a whimper.
Lenny Lockhart, the mayor’s grandson, was the Tigers’ second baseman, and Clayton Burnside, whose dad owned the local Texaco station, was a sure-handed shortstop with excellent range, both left and right.
Lenny was a switch-hitter and surprised everyone last year with his quick bat. He led the team in hits last season. Carl figured Lenny would be perfect for this year's number two spot in the batting order.
After a week of practice, Timmy Chow made the most improvement from last season.
The Chow family moved to Johnsonville last spring and opened a Chinese restaurant by the new mini-mall.
Carl figures he’s gained about four pounds since the Chows' arrival, but he's certainly happy to have Timmy on the team.
Timmy started batting eighth in the lineup last year, but by the middle of the season, Carl had moved him up to the cleanup spot. Timmy finished the season just three homers behind Michael O’Hara.
The most versatile player on the team, Carlos Ramirez, was back for his third and final season.
The Ramirez family owned the only Mexican restaurant in town, and business was booming. On Friday nights, Chico's was always standing-room-only. Chico and Teresa Ramirez knew precisely what it took to pack them in.
Carlos was the oldest of four brothers, and they all shared a love for playing baseball. Carl expects two younger Ramirez boys to be on the team next year.
Carlos shared pitching duties with Willie and Lenny last year and also gave Corky a breather at catcher. When the flu bug hit the team last season, some players missed a few games. During that stretch, Carlos played seven different positions.
All in all, Carl thought he had a pretty experienced team, with eight 12-year-olds and just two 11-year-olds, Willie and Carlos, who would both celebrate birthdays in late July.
Billy, who turned twelve in September, would be the youngest and shortest on the team. Corky was the closest in size to Billy. Corky stood 5 feet 3 inches and weighed about 100 pounds, soaking wet.
Carl liked his Tigers’ chances of at least finishing above the .500 mark this season. Five wins and five losses would be quite an accomplishment, considering no Johnsonville Little League team had ever done that.
Carl figured the Tigers had an outside shot of making the championship game this season, but winning the district title — well, in the back of his mind, he figured the hair on his head was safe.
Of course, Carl would never let his Tigers hear a word of that. As far as the Tigers were concerned, Coach Perkins was going to get a “scalping.”
Carl also knew his Tigers had one more key ingredient: this year’s squad truly cared about each other.
Chapter 16
Billy had watched Superman on television a dozen times. Superman was known as “the man of steel.” It was Saturday morning, and Billy wished he could call Superman up and borrow some of that steel.
He wasn’t sure he could walk down the stairs, go outside, and jump into Grandpa’s jeep, much less leap tall buildings in a single bound!
But somehow, with his glove secured tightly under his arm, he made his way out the front door. He ran across the yard and climbed into the jeep.
Billy’s grandpa let out a whistle, and Chipper ran and jumped into the backseat.
Billy sat back in the passenger seat and took a deep breath as his grandpa put Belle in reverse, spun her around, and headed down Fourth Street.
When George pulled into the parking lot, Billy looked over at the field. All the players were sitting on the grass in left field, and Coach Perkins was standing over them, holding a clipboard.
Johnny and Cyrus were there, too. Both of them were holding bats.
A handful of parents were sitting in the bleachers behind home plate, and three young girls were running around out in right field, trying, without much success, to corral a small dog about half the size of Chipper.
Chipper barked, and Billy’s grandpa told him to settle down.
George had Billy follow him across the first baseline, over the pitcher’s mound, and out to left field to meet the team.
The collie followed at a slow trot with his tongue hanging out. He stayed as close to Billy as possible, sensing his master needed his support.
George stopped in front of the team and waited for Carl to make the introductions.
Carl moved over and put both his hands on Billy’s shoulders.
“Guys, I want you to meet Roscoe’s grandson, Billy Ray Reynolds.”
All the kids knew Roscoe, and now they were meeting his grandson, the “silent one.”
They would now shake hands with the pint-sized kid who would soon turn their summer into a summer they would never forget.
Carl had the team warm up.
Surprisingly, all the uniforms fit, and Carl felt all the players were happy with their numbers, hats, and uniforms.
They looked like a team. Of course, they hadn’t played their first game of the season yet, but still, they looked like winners.
The players picked up balls from the ball bag, gathered along the first baseline, and began warming up their arms.
Lenny, a born politician, handed Billy a ball and said, “Do you want to warm up?”
Billy took the ball, nodded, and held it in his right hand. He hadn’t thrown a ball for months.
It felt good. Billy put his second and third fingers across the seams, let it go, and the ball burst into Lenny’s glove. The impact sent a cloud of dust flying from the mitt and into the thin air.
Lenny took his hand out of his glove and shook it. His hand stung. At that instant, Lenny knew Billy was a ballplayer.
Lenny threw the ball back, and it sailed over Billy’s head. Billy chased the ball down, turned, and started to throw the ball back to Lenny.
Billy rubbed his eyes. He thought he saw his dad with a catcher’s mitt in his left hand, pounding his fist into the glove.
He heard his dad’s voice, “Come on, Billy, throw it right here.”
Stunned, Billy took a second look and saw Lenny motioning with his glove to throw him the ball.
Billy unleashed a throw that rocketed over Lenny’s head. The ball picked up speed and rolled to the right field fence.
George, who was sitting in the bleachers behind home plate with Cyrus Jones, knew his grandson needed his help.
He headed for the field and knelt in front of Billy. Tears were flowing out of the young boy’s eyes.
Johnny and Carl rushed over to help. George looked up at the two men and said, “We might be pushing it a little.”
Billy and his grandpa sat down in the bleachers and watched the rest of the practice together.
And then another strange thing happened.
Billy looked past the ball field and thought he saw his dad’s station wagon pull into the parking lot.
Billy gripped his grandpa’s knee and pointed with his other hand in the direction of the station wagon.
“That’s your mom, your grandma, and Manny Hernandez.”
Billy smiled and ran to the trio.
He hugged them all and then shook hands with his old buddy.
“Hey, amigo,” Manny said. “How are you?”
Billy looked up at Manny and realized this was the day his old friend was to be in town to drop off his dad’s favorite car.
George took Claire and Joan for a walk in the park to explain how Billy’s first practice went, while Billy and Manny took a seat in the bleachers.
Chipper found a place to curl up near them. His ears were standing straight up as if he was trying to listen in on the one-way conversation.
Billy listened to Manny. Manny’s English was excellent, and Billy knew that his Hispanic friend had his dad to thank for that.
Billy recalled the hours his dad had spent in the bunkhouse with Manny, going over and over as many words of the English language as he could handle.
Billy had been amazed at how quickly Manny picked up the language. Billy’s dad had told him once, “If you want to learn something bad enough, you can conquer it.”
Billy’s dad had said Manny was a quick learner, but more importantly, it was an important goal that Manny had set for himself. He wouldn’t give up, and one day, he walked out of the bunkhouse for good, a new man, proud of himself for what he had accomplished.
Manny was talking now, and the “silent one” was listening.
“Your dad did a lot for my family and me. I wouldn’t be talking to you like this if it hadn’t been for your father. You saw how I struggled with that English book. Your father had a lot of patience with me.”
Manny told Billy some things he had never heard before.
Manny told him of John's many trips to Rancho Cordova during the off-season.
The old man proudly recalled the days when John pitched in, physically and financially, to help build Rancho Cordova’s first baseball field.
“For years, the young boys and girls of Rancho Cordova had no ball field, no bats, no balls...no nothing,” Manny told Billy. “Your dad provided all those things for us, and somehow, he even got hold of a used scoreboard somewhere. He fixed its electrical problems, and presto, the field had its own electronic scoreboard.
“We were a very poor town, and your dad made sure the kids of Rancho Cordova had a nice place to play baseball.”
Manny and Billy looked out onto the Johnsonville baseball field.
All the Tigers were helping the coaches put away all the equipment.
The practice was over, and the players would soon head home. They all hoped Billy was okay and they’d see him in Clarkson for their season opener.
Manny went on talking...
“You see, Billy, you now have all this,” he said, opening up his hands and pointing them towards the baseball diamond. “Your dad taught you well. He taught you everything he could about baseball... it was all for a very good reason. He wanted you to be the best you could be, the best baseball player you could be.”
And then Manny told him something else. “Your dad will always be with you,” Manny said, placing his fist on his chest. “He’s in your heart and always will be.”
Billy was beginning to understand. He was starting to put it all together. Manny hadn’t been speaking English that long, but it was evident the old man had a way with words.
“I’ve got to catch my plane. I’m going to see my sister in California before I head back to Texas. I’ve got to get back to Rancho Cordova
in five days. Guess what? We’re having our Little League season opener at Reynolds Field.”
Joan, George, and Claire returned to the bleachers to say goodbye to Manny. They all gave Manny a big hug.
Manny leaned down and shook Billy’s hand. “Adiós, Billy…Vaya con Dios.”
They all headed for the parking lot. Chipper followed, wagging his tail.
Claire and Joan took Manny to the airport in the station wagon while Billy, his grandpa, and Chipper crawled into Belle and headed home.
It had been quite a day.
Chapter 17
By mid-morning on Sunday, the temperature had climbed twenty degrees. It was unseasonably warm for the first week of June.
George thought it would be nice to organize a picnic lunch and take Billy to Willow Creek. Chipper could go swimming, and he and Billy could put their feet in the water, sit around, and have their usual one-sided conversation.
Forget the fishing, George thought to himself. The early morning would have been better for that.
When George pulled Belle into the driveway, Chipper and Billy were ready to go.
Billy waved goodbye to his mom, who was busy hosing down the station wagon. George started up Belle, and off they went, heading for another rendezvous at Willow Creek.
"Whew! I've never seen it so hot for this time of year," George said as he pulled Belle into a small clearing next to Willow Creek.
Chipper was off and running.
George set down the picnic basket and found a couple of smooth boulders, perfect for the two of them to sit on.
They took off their shoes and placed their feet in the water. The water was cool, even though the sun's rays were starting to heat the boulders George and Billy were sitting on.
"Wow," George said. "These boulders are getting warm already."
The two of them sat back and watched a soggy Chipper emerge from the pond. On a dead run, Chipper headed for the meadow and found some birds to annoy. The birds didn't hang around long as they quickly exited their resting place and flew north.
Billy turned his attention to his grandpa, who was busy offering his usual words of wisdom.
George, on the other hand, could only guess what was going through his grandson's mind, but even though he was getting older, he still had that special gift, that special ability that allowed him to say the right things at the right time to Billy.
As for Billy, he always listened to his grandpa, grandma, mom, and his other buddies, like Carl, Johnny, Cyrus, and Manny.
Billy had taken everything he had heard from them and stored it away, much as he did when his dad offered him advice and knowledge on how to play baseball.
Billy was a young boy, but he was growing up fast. He was quickly turning into a young man, and one thing was for sure: he was certainly getting all the help he needed along the way.
A strange stillness covered the pond and the surrounding meadow.
Billy's grandpa stopped talking. Suddenly, Billy felt his grandpa's hands on his back, and the next thing he knew, he was flying through the air and into the pond.
The coiled rattlesnake attacked quickly, jamming its fangs into George's right arm.
With his left hand, George grabbed the unwanted visitor and crushed its body with a huge rock that was next to him.
"Billy, you need to get help quickly!"
Billy got out of the water. He needed to react fast. He couldn't drive Belle. Grandpa couldn't drive Belle. He looked across the pond and instantly knew what he had to do.
He quickly put on his shoes and began running along the edge of the pond. He frantically searched for the entrance to the secret path, and when he found the opening, he pulled back the loose brush and crawled through the hole.
He sat down and used his legs to push aside a couple of fallen tree limbs, just enough to allow Chipper to jump through the opening.
George watched both of them disappear into the bushes. At the same time, he quickly removed his belt and wrapped it around the upper part of his arm.
George found a comfortable spot. He leaned against the big rock behind him and told himself to relax and stay calm.
He looked beyond the pond one more time; he thought he heard a noise. It sounded like Chipper barking, echoing through the trees. A few seconds later, the sound grew faint. Finally, he heard only the annoying sound of the crickets.
He looked up at Belle. She couldn't help him, but she sat there proudly. When help came, they would see her first. She would shine brightly in the afternoon sun.
Johnny once told him, "You should get one of those walkie-talkie radios for your jeep. It might come in handy someday."
George shook his head, closed his eyes, and waited.
Billy ran as fast as his legs could carry him. Chipper followed. The brush was thick, and Billy would have to stop at times to clear away the debris that had fallen on the path.
Billy was frightened, and parts of the forest were dark and creepy, but he wouldn't slow down. He had to hurry.
The path weaved left and then right. At times, the path would come to an end, but he would quickly push the tall weeds aside and pick up the trail again.
Finally, in the distance, he could see a steady, dusty stream of light cascading through the tall trees at the edge of the forest. He ran towards the sunlight and suddenly saw the hill his grandpa had told him about.
Billy and Chipper broke into the clearing. They climbed up over the hill and ran down the other side.
Billy could see Main Street in the distance. They were almost there. Billy stumbled, slipped, and fell. He rolled like a barrel all the way to the bottom of Nob Hill. Without hesitating, he was back on his feet and on the run with Chipper nearby.
A moment later, he could feel the cement under his feet. He ran down Main Street, pumping his arms up and down, hoping to gain a bit more acceleration to reach his destination sooner.
And then he saw the store—Claire's Fountain and Drug—just ahead. They had made it.
Billy and Chipper entered the drugstore. The chimes on the top of the door signaled their arrival.
A startled Claire and Joan looked up.
"Mom, Grandpa needs help!"
The words roared through the store as if they had come from heaven.
Billy's mother dropped the glass jar she was cleaning.
The jar hit the floor and shattered into little pieces.
Claire hugged Joan and then put both hands over her mouth. Mr. Crane came out from behind the counter, and Timmy rushed into the storeroom.
"Grandpa got bit by a snake out at Willow Creek," Billy said. "We have to hurry!"
Still in shock at hearing her son's words, Joan grabbed the car keys and said, "Let's go get Johnny."
Johnny Hayes was sitting at his desk, enjoying a quiet afternoon, when he looked out the window and saw Joan running across the street toward the fire station.
He rushed outside and listened to what Joan had to say. Within seconds, Joan, Claire, Billy, and Chipper were nestled in the back seats of the Johnsonville fire truck as Johnny turned on the siren, pushed the accelerator to its maximum, and headed out of town.
Chapters 18
It was eight o’clock in the evening, and George opened his eyes.
He was in the Grand Valley Regional Hospital, and Claire, Joan, and Billy stood next to his hospital bed.
It was all coming back to him. He remembered being semi-conscious when he heard the fire truck and seeing the dust swirl as Johnny wheeled the car down the dirt road leading to Willow Creek.
He remembered Johnny applying ice to his arm. His arm had started to look more like the arm of the cartoon character “Popeye” than anything else.
Johnny had loaded him into the fire truck, and in no time, they were on the road to Grand Valley, a twenty-five-mile drive — fifteen minutes at the most with Johnny putting the pedal to the metal.
He recalled looking out the back window of the fast-moving fire truck and seeing Belle behind him, chugging down the highway at full throttle.
Claire and Joan were sitting in the jeep's front seat, both of them trying desperately to keep their hair out of their eyes. Billy sat beside Chipper in the back seat, clutching his Yankee hat.
He remembered a lovely nurse standing over him. “This old coot is as strong as an ox. He’s going to be just fine.”
The nurse placed her left hand on George’s forehead and wiggled the thermometer with her other hand.
“His temperature is down,” she said.
He then heard a voice he hadn’t heard since last Christmas. It was his grandson's voice.
“Hi, Grandpa, I’m glad you’re okay.”
It was like music to George’s ears. “You mean to tell me I had to get bitten by a snake to get you talking? I was hoping to find an easier way.”
Claire and Joan smiled. Billy laughed.
“You gave us a scare,” Claire said. “But thanks to Billy and Johnny, the doctors and the nurses, it looks like you’ll be as good as new. It looks like you’re going to be home in time.”
“In time for what?” George said.
“In time to go to Clarkson, of course!”
Claire motioned to Billy.
Billy walked over to his grandpa, leaned over, and whispered, “I’m ready to play ball.”
George Thomas had been waiting to hear those words.
“Yes!” said George, looking toward Joan and Claire. He clinched both fists in the air and unleashed one of those famous “Roscoe” smiles.
A knock at the door broke up the celebration, and Willard Smith, the Grand Valley Dispatch sports editor, walked in.
“Hello, George, it’s been a long time.”
George looked up. The last time he’d seen Willard was back in ‘58 when the former freelance writer had done a feature story on baseball clowns.
“What are you doing here?” George said. “I didn’t think an old man wrestling with a rattler would be newsworthy.”
“You would be surprised. Sounds like a pretty good human interest story to me. As famous as you are, I wouldn’t be surprised if the Associated Press picks up on it.”
George shook his head and thought it was supposed to have been a nice, quiet afternoon at Willow Creek.
“Go figure.”
Joan and Claire sat in the nearby chairs and watched Willard interview George and Billy.
The two women just shook their heads. They were amazed, especially when Willard questioned Billy.
Billy talked...and talked...and talked.
Billy told Willard how his grandpa shoved him into the pond just an instant before the snake attacked. He told him how scary the run through the forest was and how happy he was to find his way back to town.
He told Willard about the rescue at Willow Creek and how quickly Johnny got his grandpa into the fire truck, back onto the highway, and to the hospital.
He told Willard that Belle, at full throttle, kept pace with the fast-moving fire truck carrying his mom, grandmother, and Chipper as they raced down the highway to Grand Valley.
Willard tipped his hat and said, “This kid can talk.”
Everyone in the room laughed.
Willard said his goodbyes and headed out the door. At the same time, Dr. Ephraim Hollingsworth entered the room. “It’s like Grand Central Station in here,” the doctor said.
Doctor Hollingsworth walked over to the hospital bed, glanced at George’s chart, and took his pulse. “I think you’re a lot better off than the snake.”
The good doctor explained to Joan and Claire that just as a precaution, it might be better to keep George overnight.
“If all goes well, you should be able to pick him up at eight o’clock in the morning. I understand there’s a big ball game tomorrow. Claire, make sure he keeps his cool and stays put in the bleachers.”
Ephraim had been George and Claire’s family physician for many years, and he knew keeping Roscoe down was no easy task.
“We’ll see to it,” Claire said. “Let’s all go home and let Grandpa get some rest. It’s going to be another big day tomorrow.”
Chapter 19
It was going to be a great day for baseball. The sun was coming up, and no early-morning clouds were around to get in its way.
Within minutes, the sun had popped up over the mountaintops just east of town. The sun’s bright glow signaled a new day for the Johnsonville residents.
Clancy Burnside unlocked the gas pumps at his Texaco station.
He found his ladder and tied up a banner on a nearby awning. The lettering was bright blue and read "Go Tigers!"
The radio was blaring in his office, and a weird song was coming from the two small speakers hanging on the garage wall. It was a catchy tune, but made little sense.
The singer asked, “Who put the Bomp in the Bomp, Bomp?”
Wally Olsen, the owner of the Johnsonville Café, was opening for business. There was standing room only, except for one revolving stool at the breakfast bar.
Eggs, hash browns, and bacon were the order of the day. As for the conversations, a traveler had stopped in for a quick breakfast and had left a copy of the Grand Valley Dispatch behind. On the front page was a picture of Roscoe in his glory days.
Everyone in the café discussed the rescue at Willow Creek.
Over at the fire station, Johnny was busy hosing down his pride and joy, the fire truck.
Johnny watched the fire truck’s bright red color return as the mud and grime, picked up at Willow Creek the day before, broke off into little chunks and slid down the street, disappearing, along with a steady stream of water, into the culvert at Second Street and Main.
Back on Main Street, Cyrus Jones was busy at his hardware store, finishing his artwork. Using a blue crayon, he had written the words "Go Tigers" at the top of his front window.
All the names and numbers of the little leaguers are listed below, including Billy Ray Reynolds, number eight.
Cyrus walked out the front door and looked at his masterpiece. He put both hands on his hips and said, ”It seems pretty good to me.”
At that moment, Carl Perkins pulled up in his El Camino. He came to a screeching halt, jumped out of the vehicle, and looked at his friend’s handiwork.
“Nicely done, Cyrus. I see you’re up early this morning.”
“Yes, I guess I didn’t sleep very well last night. I thought I’d get up early, come down here, and work on this window. I’m worried about George. Have you heard any more?"
“Yeah, I just talked to Claire. She said he was doing fine and would be discharged from the hospital this morning. I offered to pick him up, so I’m on my way. Put that sign of yours on the door and go with me. We’ll be back before your customers come calling."
“Sounds good to me.”
“I don’t need this old wheelchair,” George said. “I can walk just fine.”
“It’s just hospital protocol, Mr. Thomas,” the nurse said. “Now you just sit tight.”
The nurse patted George on the back, wheeled her former patient out through the sliding glass doors, and rolled the wheelchair toward two men wearing dark blue baseball caps.
“Well, boys, he’s all yours.”
Carl threw George’s overnight bag in the back of the El Camino. “We’ll handle him from here.”
George squeezed into the seat between Cyrus and Carl, and the three men headed back to Johnsonville.
George was more interested in discussing Billy’s miraculous recovery than reliving his battle with the snake at Willow Creek.
“I’m going to be okay, and it looks like we got ourselves a ball player. You guys have no idea what a thrill it was to hear Billy’s voice. His mom and Claire are so happy. They said when he ran into the drugstore, and the words popped out of his mouth, they were just ecstatic. They couldn’t believe what they were hearing.”
Carl and Cyrus looked at their lifelong friend. George was smiling. He didn’t look like a man who had recently tangled with a rattlesnake.
Whatever medicine Dr. Hollingsworth had given George to help in his recovery couldn’t compare to the prescription Billy had given his grandpa.
George had his grandson back, and it was time for him to take the field and play baseball.
Chapter 20
The road to Clarkson can be tricky in winter, but it is much more enjoyable in summer.
The first few miles were uphill, straight up over the mountain. The highway then wound its way down into a picturesque valley, and Clarkson was spread out across it.
Travelers, coming down off the mountain, could see a water tower to the south — a big C painted on its side — and a church with a tall steeple sat on a hill to the east of town.
The town looked inviting. But when it came to Little League baseball, the town had a history of producing ball teams that would battle you to the end. Carl Perkins once said, “If you can get out of Clarkson with a win, you’re doing something.”
It was two hours before game time, and a steady stream of cars was heading down the mountain.
Carl, Johnny, and Cyrus were in the lead car, followed by Joan, Claire, George, and Billy.
Carl looked back at all the cars and said, “Looks like we’re going to have quite a cheering section for our first game.”
Carl turned his head, rolled down the driver’s side window of his El Camino, and took a peek at the little town of Clarkson, which was now just minutes away. He took a deep sigh and was thankful for the support of the Johnsonville fans.
The Tigers were in for a tough opener. Clarkson had everyone back from last year’s team, including a left-handed pitcher named Sage Carpenter, who won six games on the mound last season and lost only two. Last year, Clarkson shut out the Tigers 6-0, and Carpenter was the winning pitcher.
Carl knew they had a skilled coach in Harvey Hinton. Hinton had taken the Clarkson Beavers to the district finals four out of the last six seasons, but like the Johnsonville Tigers, they had yet to win a district title.
No team from the southern region had ever won the district. That honor always stayed with the powerhouses to the north, Grand Valley and Green River.
Carl had several concerns about today’s game. Should he save Willie for the home opener against Carbon City and start Carlos, or should he throw Lenny? Lenny was primarily used as a reliever last season, but there were times when he was very effective with those off-speed pitches.
Carl remembered one opposing player last season, telling his coach, “I can’t hit that stuff.”
And what about Billy? When will be the best time for Billy to get his first playing time? Maybe Clarkson isn’t the right environment for that.
First things first, Carl thought, pulling the El Camino into the parking lot next to the Clarkson Little League field.
All his followers motored in right behind him.
The Johnsonville fans found their seats in the bleachers along the third base line, and the Clarkson fans squeezed into the bleachers along the first base line.
The home team took their infield first, and then it was the Tigers’ turn.
Carl had Jimmy Jameson at first. Carlos Ramirez and Lenny Lockhart took turns fielding ground balls at second base.
At third base, it was Chucky Jameson warming up, and over at shortstop, it was Clayton Burnside, alternating with Billy Ray Reynolds.
Catcher Corky Calhoun was busy handling throws from behind the plate.
Timmy Chow and Willie Turner alternated catching fly balls in left field while Ryan and Michael O’Hara took turns running down pop-ups in center and right field.
George kept a keen eye on the pre-game warmups. He liked what he saw.
Coach Hayes kept hitting fly balls to the outfielders, and Coach Jones did his best to corral all the throws coming in from the players.
“Cyrus has his hands full,” George said jokingly. “But I tell you what, the kids look pretty sharp out there.”
George put his arms around Claire and Joan. “Look at that number eight, isn’t he a sight?”
They watched Billy as he took his turn snagging the grounders at shortstop.
“Listen,” Joan said. “You can hear Billy chattering. It’s such a beautiful sound.”
Carl had decided to start Lenny. So, as soon as infield practice was over, Lenny and Corky paired up down the third baseline and began warming up.
The first game of the season was moments away.
Sage Carpenter was as advertised. He was not overpowering, but he had pinpoint accuracy.
Carpenter breezed through the first three innings unscathed. He recorded three strikeouts and forced the Tigers to ground out six times, but not one ball was hit into the outfield.
On the other hand, Lenny was as cool as a cucumber as he kept the Beavers off balance, allowing only a single up the middle to Carpenter in the second inning.
But in the top of the fourth inning, the Tigers got their first break of the game when Michael ripped a grounder through the legs of the Beavers’ third baseman. The ball rolled to the left field corner, and Michael trotted into second base with a stand-up double.
With two outs, Carpenter went to work on Timmy and quickly had him down in the count, two strikes to none.
But Carpenter’s next offering sailed across the heart of the plate, and Timmy connected and drilled the ball into the gap in left-center field.
Michael scored easily, and Timmy raced home to give the Tigers a 2-0 lead.
Carpenter, visibly upset, struck out Jimmy on three pitches, and the Beavers came to bat, looking for a bit of revenge.
Lenny pitched well in the bottom of the fourth inning, but he did serve up a solo home run ball to Carpenter.
Carpenter’s blast — a low line drive that barely cleared the left field fence — cut the Tigers’ lead in half, at 2-1.
Both teams were retired in order in the fifth inning, but in the top of the sixth and with one out, Clayton singled into the hole between third base and short.
The Beavers’ left fielder had trouble coming up with the ball, so Clayton rounded first and set his sights on second base. He slid into second, but his left hand had gotten tangled underneath the bag.
Clayton was hurt. Carl called a timeout and rushed out to second base.
“It doesn’t look broken, but let’s get some ice on it and get you to the bench.”
It was decision time for Coach Perkins.
Willie, who had gone in for Carlos at second base in the fourth inning, was on deck. Carlos was out of the game, leaving Billy as Clayton's only replacement.
Carl looked over at Billy.
Billy walked up to Carl and said, “I’m ready, Coach Perkins.”
“You’re in, Billy.”
Billy trotted out to second. He heard his mother, grandmother, and grandpa cheering from the stands.
“Go get them, Billy.”
Play resumed, and on the first pitch, Willie hit a shot up the middle.
Billy ducked as the ball sailed over his head and bounced toward center field. Like he was shot out of a cannon, Billy raced to third. He clipped the inside corner of the bag with his right foot and scampered home, beating the throw from the center fielder. The Tigers added a vital insurance run and took a 3-1 lead.
George Thomas stood up, took a moment to take in the situation, and watched Billy run to the dugout to celebrate the play with his teammates.
“That’s just beautiful,” George said. “Just beautiful.”
The Tigers were still not out of the woods. The Clarkson Beavers had one at-bat left, and the heart of their order was coming up.
Lenny was tiring, but Carl was confident his starting pitcher could go the distance. But after the first two batters reached base with back-to-back singles, the Tigers were in trouble.
Carl took a deep breath and watched Carpenter enter the batter’s box.
Two runners on and no outs, and to make matters worse, the Beavers’ power-hitter was up, representing the winning run.
Lenny looked in and got his sign from Corky. Lenny’s breaking ball curled over the plate. Carpenter took a mighty cut and drilled a line drive over the bag at second.
The Clarkson runners were off at the crack of the bat.
Out of nowhere came the Tigers’ shortstop, Billy Ray Reynolds.
He dove, and the ball lodged in the pocket of his glove. He jumped up, tagged second base, and unleashed a perfect throw to first base, doubling up both runners.
A triple play!
The Johnsonville fans stormed the field. The Clarkson fans remained seated, stunned.
Johnsonville had won the game, 3-1. The Tigers were on their way to a season they would never forget.
As for Billy, he had finally taken the field. He had played one inning and certainly made the most of it.
