“How do they look?” Coach Kingwood asked me.
“We’re ready. I think we win by four runs,” I predicted.
Coach Kingwood was unaware of my special ability to call margins of victory. He just looked at me and smiled.
“I’m not about to doubt him. Are you guys?” he asked the team.
Everyone agreed with me, so he continued.
“We’re going to go easy on our pitchers today. Two innings maximum for everyone. It doesn’t matter how good you feel or if you’re pitching a no-hitter. I want to give four, if not five, of you work today so you’re ready when the games count.
“I want to win this one. So as long as we’re within two runs, either way, the starters will remain on the field. If we get up by four or more, as our captain has said, I’ll make wholesale substitutions. As I said, I want to win, but I also want to be ready for when we play Panama,” Coach Kingwood explained.
Panama was reported to be a weaker opponent. The game after Panama was against the team everyone thought was the favorite, Cuba. I’d seen the roster, and a few of the boys I’d played with were in their lineup. Coach Conde was an assistant for Cuba. I hoped our team didn’t look past Panama.
Coach Kingwood reminded us to play in the moment and to remain focused. He also wanted us to be aggressive on the basepaths. He announced that he was moving me to the top of the order, as the coaches and I had discussed.
“One last detail before we go out,” Coach Kingwood said, and we watched as Coach Way handed him a jersey. “I’ve talked to all of you one-on-one, and we all agree that someone has shown leadership, and I’ve even referred to him as our captain. I want to make it official and announce that David fills that role on this team.”
He handed me a new jersey with a ‘C’ on the left breast above ‘USA’ on the chest. I slipped off my old jersey and put on the new one.
“Take them out, Cap,” Coach Kingwood told me.
“Gather ’round and put your hand in,” I said, and we made a big circle. “USA on three. One, two, three …”
“USA!”
As the visitors, we were up first. The game was being played at John Ray Harrison Field at Andy Pettitte Park in Houston, Texas; it was the home of the San Jacinto North Gators. The plan was to play a seven-inning game and then play two extra practice innings. During the practice innings, players could be freely substituted, and batting orders flew out the window. You could even have a batter who struck out remain up to bat if you wanted. The Gators had agreed to let us have a full nine innings to prepare for our tournament.
Right off the bat, it was a pitching duel. Allard got the start on the mound and gave up just two hits with one strikeout over two innings. We’d managed to get three men on in the first two innings, so I led off the third.
Their scouting report must have told them to keep the ball outside on me because I was thrown four straight balls to get on. Mitch was up next. He was probably the weakest batter of our first six hitters. That wasn’t a knock on Mitch; he would be the best hitter on almost every high school team in the country. We just had guys with serious talent.
I looked to third for the sign, and I was signaled to hold so I could get a feel of how the pitcher handled me on base. The pitcher then tried to pick me off and short-hopped the ball. If it hadn’t been for a great save by their first baseman, I would have been at second.
On his first pitch home, he’d guessed I would be running. He threw a fastball high so the catcher would be halfway standing when he caught the ball. I could tell they were worried.
On the second pitch, I was given the green light. The pitcher made me eat dirt twice before finally going home with a pitch. I exploded towards second and could tell by the way the second base umpire got into position that it was going to be close. I concentrated on my form so I wouldn’t lose any speed and slid into second. The second baseman caught the ball and snapped his glove down to tag me.
“Safe!” the umpire called and signaled emphatically.
“No way! I got him,” the San Jacinto second baseman argued.
I knew better, but I wasn’t about to add my comments to this discussion. Their manager trotted out and pushed his player back so he could talk the umpire.
“I hate to say it, but he looked out to me from clear over in the dugout.”
“His foot touched the bag before the tag. He was safe.”
The back-and-forth continued, and I called time so I could step off the bag and knock the dirt off me. When they were done arguing, I stood on second, waiting for the pitcher to step onto the mound. The second baseman threw it in, and we got ready to resume play.
The pitcher was still nervous about me, I guess. He had a pretty good move to second, but neither of his pick-off tries worked.
After the second pick-off attempt, I was standing on second base. As I was brushing the dirt off my uniform, the second baseman motioned like he threw the ball back to the pitcher. I grinned when I saw that he still had the ball.
“Nice try,” I said.
“I’ve fallen for it. They’ll try all kinds of tricks on you.”
He tossed the ball to the pitcher so the game could continue.
On the next pitch, Mitch hit a sharp grounder that split the first and second basemen. I used my speed to round third. I was waved through and saw Nick Golden, our first baseman, in the on-deck circle. He motioned for me to slide. Their right fielder had charged the ball and bypassed the cutoff man to try to throw me out. Their catcher had the basepath blocked, so I slid to the outside. I missed the bag with my foot, so I had to reach and tag it with my hand. This time the catcher would’ve had me, but he missed the tag. We were up 1–0.
Austin Moran pitched two dominant innings in relief of Allard. He struck out five of the six batters he faced and didn’t allow a single base runner. Shane Bays followed with two lights-out innings of his own, sending the batters down in order and striking out four out of six.
In the top of the seventh, we got busy again. Royce Greene led off with a single up the middle before back-to-back bunt singles by Jared Cornish and Tristan Pratt loaded the bases with no outs. Patrick Welch then grounded out to third base, allowing Royce to score, and Jared crossed the plate shortly after on a throwing error by the catcher. Logan Greene followed by singling through the left side to score Tristan for our fourth and final run in regulation.
Hagen Holmes took the mound for the bottom half of the seventh and allowed only one hit, a leadoff single, before retiring the Gators to secure the shutout 4–0.
In the two practice innings, the starters were pulled. Each team scored two runs apiece.
◊◊◊
Coach Kingwood talked to us in the locker room after the game.
“Good job out there. I can see what we’ve been working on showing up on the field. I think if we get that kind of pitching and enough offense, we should be fine in the upcoming tournament.
“Okay, let’s talk about what we have to do between now and tomorrow afternoon. Get yourself packed. If you want to go out to dinner on your own tonight, feel free. Otherwise, we’ll eat in the hotel. I don’t need to see you until noon tomorrow in the lobby when we’ll get on the bus and head to the airport.
“Does anyone have anything for me?” he asked and looked around. “Okay. Stay out of trouble tonight.”
With that parting shot, we were free.
◊◊◊
I invited my guys to our room. When Roc and Yuri joined Phil and me, I told them my plan.
“When I was a freshman, my brother helped me with women. Now that Phil actually has one that isn’t running away, it’s time for some Dawson guidance. If you two will allow me to help you, I’ll include you in his education. The only rule is that you can’t question my methods,” I said, waiting for the first little dumbass to do just that.