Date: Fri, 12 Apr 2013 05:25:58 -0700 (PDT)
From: Joe Hunter <hunterjoe45@yahoo.com>
Subject: Baseball Diamond Tails - 8F

All the usual disclaimers apply:

+This story is a work of fiction.  If you think it is real, you have a very
active imagination.

+Do not read this story if you live in an area where it is illegal to do
so.

+Scenes of sexual activity between an adult male and a young boy are
represented.  Do not read further if this offends you.

+Please do not imitate the actions portrayed herein - the author cannot
accept responsibility for any actions promoted by this story.

If you would like to get in touch, please e-mail me at:

			hunterjoe45@yahoo.com

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I hope you enjoy reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it.
Support Nifty!   Joe

____________________________

BASEBALL DIAMOND TAILS - 8F
(copyright 2013, Joe Hunter)

:::::::::::::::::::::::
 Center Field:  Part F
:::::::::::::::::::::::

Tuesday, the last day of school, dawned hot, bright, and clear.  I took off
from work so I could spend the morning grooming our old practice field and
putting lime down for the baselines.  Exactly at noon cars began arriving.
One of the first was Lance's old Land Rover with Dink bouncing excitedly in
the front seat.  He came racing over to present me with his report card.
"Coach!  I like passed everything!  I got promoted."  I barely had time to
give his shoulders a quick hug before he ducked away to greet Peewee who
was climbing out of a car that had also brought his cousins Wheels and
Rainman.

By then Lance had joined me.  I held up Dink's report card, "You want me to
hang onto this, or should you?"  The handsome teen took it and said, "You
want some help, Coach?  Can I do anything?"

"You sure can," I told him gratefully.  "How 'bout I umpire home plate.
You take the infield.  You know how t'do that, right?"

"Sure."

Carol drove up, bringing a trunk load of picnic supplies as well as Evan,
who was already out of his school clothes, had his practice shirt on, and
was wild with excitement.

"We're gonna win, Coach," he assured me breathlessly.  "JJ an' Cowboy got
like three ringers to play for us!"

Before I could quiz him about the 'ringers', he was scampering away to join
his Blue Squad teammates.  But soon enough all my questions were answered.
A few minutes later all the kids had arrived and I got to see the extra
players my captains had recruited.

"Will!  Todd, Dennis!" I exclaimed as JJ, with a big grin, led some boys
over to me.  "I knew it!  I knew JJ was gonna raid the lacrosse team!"
Todd, 12 years old, and Dennis, 11, held out palms for me to slap. Both
played lacrosse and I would have been glad to have recruited either one for
baseball the way I had Kelly and Slick.

"JJ said he needed help, Coach," Dennis told me.

"Yeah," Todd added, "An' we heard there was like free food!"

"It's good to see you guys," I told them.  Then I turned to the third boy
and hugged him around the shoulders.  "You, too, Will."

The dark-haired boy leaned against me, looking up at my face.  He had been
a star 11-year-old player in our league the year before, on a team that had
taken third-place.  During the winter he had not only wrestled, but played
basketball as well.  Then his father had lost his job with the railroad,
and because the family could not afford the registration fee, Will had not
signed up for baseball.  If he had been on my team I would have known
immediately, but the news had reached me too late.  The deadline for
sign-ups passed before I could intervene and not only was Will missing out
on playing, so was his younger brother, Matthew, who should have been in 9
and 10 coach pitch.

"Have some fun out there, kiddo," I told Will.  "Think you can show me a
few of your Web Gems today?"  The 'Web Gem' thing had been a secret joke
between us ever since Will had pulled off a spectacular unassisted double
play in one of the games against us the year before.

Will nodded eagerly.  "Uh-huh!  Me an' Matty been practicin', Coach!  In
our yard!"

"Is it okay if Matty's here, too, Coach?"  JJ was giving me an anxious
look.  "I told him he could be like our batboy."  And suddenly the
youngster himself was there at my side, a slight but wiry little boy with
big eyes, staring up at me in appeal.

"Sure," I said with a smile, ruffling Matty's fine spun brown hair.  "It's
okay.  Do a good job for JJ, Matty.  If Blue Team wins, you go on the
overnight, too."  Instantly the small boy's face lit up and he turned a
beaming smile on JJ and his older brother.

"Now, how 'bout Red Team?"  I started to say, then grinned in happy
surprise because Bryce, Casey and the rest of Red Team was coming toward
me, escorting a slender lanky boy with white blond hair, movie star good
looks and a big grin on his face.  He was wearing glasses, the sport kind
with white plastic frames held in place by a band around his head, and he
was dressed in blue jeans that fit tight around hips and thighs.  For a
shirt he had on a loose red tee, ripped to make it look like our practice
shirts, exposing a hard glossy waist and tummy.

"Adrian!"  With a big grin I held out a fist for the boy to punch with his
own.  "Bryce talked you into this, huh?"

"Uh-huh!"  The handsome boy answered my grin with one of his own.  "When
you comin' to help out at soccer again, Coach?"

I hugged his shoulders, laughing.  "Geez!  Gimme a break.  That was just
one season--and only because they couldn't get anyone else.  I'm a dummy
about soccer!"

Adrian's grin got even wider, his green eyes twinkling.  "Yeah, but we like
had more fun that season than any other!  It was the best!"

I nodded, remembering.  Adrian was a terrific athlete; a kid who could play
any sport, including baseball.  He had been a superstar in T-ball and coach
pitch.  But his passions were swimming and soccer, which were the sports he
was concentrating on.

"This is gonna be great, AD," I told the boy.  AD was the nickname I had
given him during the season when I had filled in as coach for his team.
"Let's see if you can still do something with a ball besides kick it!"  I
turned to Bryce who was looking at me with a giant grin of anticipation.
"Where's your other..."

From behind Casey, where he had been hiding, stepped a tall lanky boy in
full baseball uniform--tight white pants, black shirt emblazoned with gold
stars, and a gold ball cap with black stars.  Silk-screened across the
chest of the shirt was the All-Star Team logo of our neighboring community,
next exit down on the Interstate.

"Bone!"  I pumped my fist, then stepped over to the boy, hugging him around
the shoulders, while shaking his hand.  "Bone!  This is great!"

The lanky boy had a mass of dark blonde curls spilling out from under his
ball cap.  He turned a sharp featured face to mine, giving me his sly
trademark grin.  "What's up, Coach?"  There was a lump of something in his
right cheek, and from the smell of his breath I knew it wasn't Big League
Chew bubble gum.

"Good to see you, Stud," I told him.

"Me and Bryce been plannin' this for a while," the boy told me.  "Figured
we'd surprise ya'."

"It's a wonderful surprise!"  I hugged him again.  "Geez, I'm glad you
came!"

"You gonna coach the Regional Team again this year?"  Bone asked.  His real
name was Melvin, but everyone--friends, teachers, coaches, family, even his
mother--called him, 'Bone'.

"Don't know," I answered, shaking my head doubtfully.  "Gotta win All-Stars
for that.  I'll try."

Bone made a face.  "I ain't pitchin' for 'em if you ain't coachin'!"

"Tell you what," I said, squeezing his shoulders.  "If I'm not head coach,
I'll try to be one of the assistants.  How's that?"

Bone nodded.  "Long as you're there.  I ain't goin' less you're there!"
For emphasis he spit a squirt of tobacco juice onto the dirt.

"Okay, Captains!"  I told JJ and Bryce, clapping my hands, "Get your guys
lined up and let's eat!"

Carol and some other mothers had been setting up bags of food from
McDonald's while I had been talking to the boys.  Now they began handing
out meals.  I grabbed a few hamburgers for myself while drafting two of the
parents to track pitch counts for me and act as scorekeepers.  Once the
boys had all eaten, a coin toss determined Blue as the home team and we got
the game started with left-handed JJ up on the mound pitching.

I liked intra-squad matches.  For one thing, there were no worries about
substitutions, or playing time.  For better or worse, every kid played the
entire game.  Another plus--the parents rarely stuck around to watch, so it
was just the kids playing, having fun.  Real 'Sandlot' style ball.
Umpiring behind the plate, I could keep the game close by adjusting the
strike zone--not enough to be noticeable, just enough so that neither team
got too much of a lead over the other.  Lance, positioned behind second
base to umpire close plays in the field, followed my lead, making calls
that kept the action moving with neither team getting too much advantage.

The best thing about scrimmages was the way the kids got into them, taking
the games just as seriously as regular-season games.  I instructed Lance
ahead of time to ignore any rules about infield chatter, so the air was
full of schoolyard taunts--comments ranging over such personal things as
underwear stains, foot smell, family history, and the length of certain
intimate equipment.  In other words, authentic 'Sandlot' chatter!

Carol, my team mother extraordinaire, was one of the few parents who
remained once the food had been served out.  When she approached me at the
end of the first inning I was certain it would be something about the
on-field remarks.  (Her son Evan, Blue Team second baseman, had been
shrilly yelling something about, "Can't find it in all that fat!" when Tiny
had been batting.)  But I was wrong.

"Coach," Carol whispered to me urgently.  "That boy who was just pitching.
He's spitting!  He had something in his mouth!  I think it's snuff!"

Uh-Oh!  I thought.  Of course it was Bone she was talking about.  Bryce had
started him for the Red Team.  I bit my tongue, suppressing my first
impulse, which was to answer, "No, I don't think it's snuff.  He's probably
chewing Red Man."  Instead, reminding myself how valuable Carol was, I
replied diplomatically, "He's from another league and they have different
rules there.  I'll check into it."

While JJ took a few warm-up pitches before starting the second inning, I
strode over to Bone who was standing with his Red teammates behind a screen
of the backstop, getting ready to hit.

"Do me a favor, Stud," I whispered to him.  "Lose the chew for a while,
okay?  We got some parents here who..."

Bone made a disgusted face.  "That uptight bitch over there say somethin'?"

"Uh, yeah."

Opening wide, Bone plopped a gooey brown mass of well gnawed leaf in the
palm of his hand and tossed it away.  "I'll do it for you, Coach.  I ain't
doin' it cause a' her."

"I know that, Ace."  My hand went to his shoulder to give it an
appreciative squeeze.  "You know how much I appreciate that."

The rangy boy leered at me.  "She ain't bad, Coach.  You got somthin' goin'
with her?"

I returned a conspiratorial wink.  "Something like that."  Bone put out a
palm for me to slap.

It was an exciting game with lots of action, good plays (by both sides),
and plenty of decent hitting despite the excellent pitching.  In order to
not use up any valuable arms, I restricted the pitchers to a maximum pitch
count of 30 pitches.  This also forced the Captains to use a variety of
pitchers, thus giving some of the 11-year-old rookies an opportunity for
mound time as well as the 12-year-olds.  Both Bone and Casey hit home runs
for the Red Team--home run being anything over the heads of the
outfielders, since we had no fence.  But JJ and Will unloaded big home run
shots for the Blue Team as well, so the score remained close.  As Will came
across the plate after hitting his, I gave him a quick hug around the
shoulders and he surprised me by hugging me fiercely back.

"Thanks, Coach."

"You bet, kid," I whispered to him.  "And from now on I want you here
practicing with us every day.  And come to the games, too.  You can help me
keep track of the lineups."

The boy looked up at me eagerly.  "Like a bench coach, right?"

"Yup."  My arm tightened around him and Will hugged back even harder.  "You
bring that little brother of yours, too," I ordered.  "No reason he can't
practice with us.  I'll make him team batboy.  Plus, this fall and winter
you're both in football and wrestling.  You tell your Dad I'll take care of
it.  He doesn't need to worry."

"Thanks, Coach," Will's eyes glowed as he looked up at me.

That was one of the game's highlights for me, but there were others.  Casey
made a few beautiful plays in center field, including one spectacular
over-the-shoulder running catch that robbed 12-year-old Todd of a homer
while Bo was pitching.  I saw both Dink and Lance congratulating Casey as
he came trotting in, holding the ball up with a grin.  Dink himself had an
excellent game, going three for three at the plate, stealing bases, coming
around to score each time.  And then there was Cowboy's awesome stop of a
line drive hit by Tiny.  Cowboy was playing third base and the hard hit
ball smacked into his glove with a resounding `WHOP!'  Without a moment of
hesitation Cowboy took one power step and whipped the ball to JJ at first,
doubling off Rainman who had started for second.  Tiny, who had been sure
his line drive would be good for at least a single, shook his head at me in
frustration as he went back behind the screen.

All in all it was a fine afternoon.  But the crowning touch was still to
come, a finish so unexpected it took everyone by surprise, especially me!
Blue was the home team, and they came to bat in the sixth and final inning
down by two runs.  Because of my pitch count rule both teams had used a lot
of pitchers, a situation that might have favored JJ's Blue Squad since he
had picked the most good arms.  But Bone was so good he had been able to
give his Red Team two innings within the 30 pitch limit, so Red was not
handicapped.  Now Rainman was up on the mound ready to play the `closer'
role for them, and he was facing the bottom of Blue's lineup - Kelly and
Slick, my two lacrosse players, Wheels, Rainman's younger brother, Dennis
the lacrosse player who had come with Todd, and finally the number nine
hitter, Evan.

Evan was our worst hitter.  He was gradually improving because he worked
hard in every practice; and no one could have been a more enthusiastic
second baseman.  But no one expected him to hit the ball when he came to
bat during a game.  As Rainman threw his warm-up pitches to Tiny behind the
plate, the Red Team with their two run lead looked like a good bet to be
the ones up on the mountain with me on the Saturday after next.

Who can ever predict what will happen in baseball?  Kelly, first up for
Blue, smacked a sizzling liner into right field.  He got to second base
before Bo out there could round the ball up, and then while Bo threw to
Adrian, his cutoff man at first base, Kelly made it to third.  Next to bat
was Slick, my other converted lacrosse star, and he scored Kelly with a
bloop fly ball that bounced in front of Dink playing in left field.
Suddenly the Red Team's lead was cut in half--to only one run--and there
were still no outs!

Now Wheels came to the plate, facing his brother Rainman's pitching.  It
was a sibling rivalry match up, and to his disgust Rainman walked his
younger brother, just missing on the outside corner with ball four.  Blue
team had runners on first and second!  Over at shortstop, Bryce the Red
Team Captain looked worried.  He went to the pitcher's spot (we had no
mound on that old practice field), said something, and Rainman nodded.

Dennis, the lacrosse player that had come with Todd, was up next.  Dennis
was only 11, but he was a strong athletic kid.  I was pretty sure Bryce had
told Rainman not to underestimate him.  Meantime, Blue Team Captain JJ,
coaching at third base, was flashing signs to his young batter.  Pulling my
protective mask down, I got ready to call the balls and strikes.  Something
was up.  Speed was out there on the base paths!  Both Slick and Wheels were
very fast runners.  The prize of an overnight camp out was on the line!
Things were about to get interesting.

Sure enough, on Rainman's first pitch--a fastball down low--Slick and
Wheels pulled a double steal.  Following our league rule (no leading off),
they left their bases the moment Rainman's low pitch went over the plate.
Tiny stopped the ball, fumbled a moment, straightened up ready to
throw-–then wisely held up.  Slick and Wheels were fast and any mistake
might score the tying run.  Discretion was the better course in that
situation.

Rainman came in a few steps to receive the ball from Tiny, walked around a
bit at his pitching spot, keeping a cautious eye on the runners, then fired
in another offering.  It was a strike all the way, a good pitch to swing
at.  Young Dennis unloaded on it, topping the ball, sending it spinning and
bouncing toward short.  It was no easy chance, but Bryce my reliable
infielder backed up a step and made a good play, catching the bouncing
ball.  A quick look toward second made Wheels retreat, preventing his
advance.  Bryce's next glance showed him there was no way to stop Slick
scoring from third, so he did the next best thing.  A perfect throw to
Adrian at first beat Dennis' charge down the baseline and there was one
out.  But when Slick's foot touched home plate the score was tied!

I was enjoying the whole thing.  "Evan's the next batter," I was thinking.
"Rainman'll get him out.  Then if he can get JJ to make the third out,
we'll go extra innings!"  Both sides were running out of pitching!  We
might end up having Evan and Tiny pitching!

Evan came to the plate looking very determined, one hand up to settle the
batting helmet on his head, while he turned to look for JJ's signals.
There was such a solemn expression on his face it made me smile.  Then,
when he spit before taking a practice swing, in imitation of Bone, it was
all I could do to keep from laughing.  "Easy out... Easy out..." the
infielders were yelling.

Zip!  Rainman's first pitch came in—another low fastball I could have
called either way.  I kept my hand down and announced, "Ball!"  Evan had a
small strike zone.  I intended to make Rainman pitch to it so the kid would
at least have a fair chance of making contact.

Zip!  Another pitch--a nice one, over the plate.  "Strike!" I yelled.

But no one was listening!  Wheels was stealing third!  Tiny was up with the
ball, and this time he was throwing it!  Wheels represented the winning
run.  No way could he be allowed to advance and score!  My chunky catcher
fired to Bone playing at third-–a rushed throw that went wild!  Making a
heroic effort, Bone dove for it, lanky form sliding on the dirt, glove
outstretched.  But the ball whizzed by!  Wheels rounded third, heading
home!

Then, miraculously, Dink was there.  Backing up the play, charging in from
left field, he scooped up the errant throw, took one step--and fired a
rocket to home plate with all the strength in his sturdy young body.

It was close--it was very close!  But Tiny hung in there.  Standing in
front of home plate, blocking it with all his imposing bulk, he took Dink's
perfect throw, put his glove down... and made the tag on a sliding Wheels,
an eye-blink before the speedy boy could touch home plate for the winning
score!

"Yer' out!" I yelled, my hand up in the air.

"Aw, Coach," Wheels protested.

But I was shaking my head, reaching to help him up.  "Tough luck, Sport.
It was a great try.  But Dink and Tiny got 'ya."  Turning to the catcher I
gave Tiny a whack on his meaty shoulder.  "Way t' be there, big guy.  You
rushed that throw a little, though, didn't 'ya?"

"Yeah."  Tiny gave me an embarrassed grin.  "I ain't got that down so good
yet."

"You will," I assured, patting him.  Then I held up two fingers and
announced, "Okay, two outs.  Evan's still up.  Count's 1-1."

Evan was Rainman's fifth batter.  Knowing he was close to his 30 pitch
limit, Rainman was not wasting any more.  He threw one at medium speed,
wanting Evan to swing, assuming that even if the youngster made contact it
would be an easy out.  Evan swung all right.  I saw him take a little step
just as he had been taught, and... WANG!  There was the loud metallic sound
of aluminum hitting baseball!

Evan's shot headed straight for the right side of the diamond were Pee-wee,
Red Team's second baseman, nearly made a spectacular play.  The wiry little
boy laid out, arms extended... and was an inch short of securing the ball,
which instead deflected off the fingers of his glove.  Evan scampered down
the first-base line, one hand on his helmet to keep it on, the proud
possessor of a legitimate single, his first hit of the season!

Now JJ, the top of Blue Team's lineup, came to bat and Bryce changed
pitchers because Rainman was so close to the limit.  Adrian took his place,
Rainman went to first base, and play resumed.

Even though he was no longer playing baseball very much, Adrian could still
pitch with plenty of style.  But JJ was a lefty--and lefties are always
dangerous.  Besides, JJ's slender build was deceptive.  Underneath it was
all wiry strength.  Adrian's second pitch got socked deep into right field,
where Bo went scampering after it with Casey running over to help out.

At the crack of the bat Evan was flying off first, his short legs churning,
hand up to keep his batting helmet from falling off.  He rounded second
just as he had been taught, not looking at the outfielders chasing the
ball, but only at Cowboy who was now coaching third.  "Go!  Go!  Go!"
Cowboy was yelling, and Evan kept running, reaching third just as Casey
finally caught up with the ball.

"Home!" screamed Cowboy, crouching down and pointing with his arm.

Without hesitation, Evan tagged third exactly as he had learned to do in
our drills, and headed for pay dirt, feet flying!  In the outfield, Casey
took control of the ball, and bypassing Rainman, his cutoff man, he heaved
a frozen rope all the way to Tiny at home plate.  It was a beautiful throw,
dead on target, but Evan had been too fast.  Despite Tiny's excellent catch
and tag maneuver, my smallest player hit the dirt, evading Tiny's glove,
sliding over home plate in a cloud of dust.  It was the winning run!  Blue
had rallied and taken the prize!

Of course the Blue Team went nuts.  JJ, running in behind Evan, picked the
small boy up, put him on the shoulders of a cheering Will and they paraded
around, surrounded by Cowboy and all the rest of the Blues.  There was a
demonstration on the Red side as well, but of a different kind.  Dink and
Bone had both come in to back up Casey's desperate throw to the plate.  Now
Dink slammed his glove into the ground.  "Crud!" he yelled.  Then, "Shit!"

I held up my umpire's mask.  "Just like a regular game," I ordered.  "Both
sides shake hands."

The boys lined up and then went past each other slapping palms, shaking,
and telling each other, "Nice game..."  Dink's participation was reluctant,
but he did it.

I gathered the boys around me, giving Casey, Bo and Tiny all hugs.  "Not
your fault, guys.  You made a great try.  Casey, that was a fantastic
throw.  Good job, Tiger."  Then I hugged Adrian."  Not your fault either,
Ace.  Damn, you can still pitch good!  JJ just got around on one, that's
all.  It happens in the Big Leagues, it happens in the Little Leagues!
Sometimes the pitcher wins, sometimes it's the hitter, right?"

The beautiful boy nodded ruefully and held out a hand to JJ, congratulating
him.

"And you," I said, grinning at Evan who was still perched on Cowboy's
shoulders.  "How does it feel to be a star and score the winning run?
Pretty good?"

Evan beamed and squirmed happily like a puppy when I offered a palm for him
to slap.  He was absolutely in seventh heaven!

Bone was standing close beside me, resplendent in his All-Star uniform.  I
understood how disappointed he had to be feeling.  But as competitive as he
was, Bone was controlling himself with the class he had learned to show.
My hand was on his shoulder, where I could enjoy feeling the muscular hard
smoothness beneath his shirt.  I winked at him, then turned to Dink.

"Okay, Hot Shot.  Talk to me."

The sturdy youngster kept his head down, not meeting my eye.  He knew I
disapproved of the glove throwing and swearing.

"I just really hate losing, Coach," he finally mumbled.

It was a teachable moment and I was about to reply, but Bone beat me to it.
"You think I like losin'?" he asked, giving Dink's shoulder a tap.  Then he
looked around at the rest of the group.  "Any kid here think I like
losin'?"

"I know you don't," Bryce said.  "I played against you last year."  Bone
nodded, the two boys high-fived, then Bone turned back to Dink, who had now
raised his head to look up.  "I used to be exactly like you," Bone told
him.  "Lose!  An' I wanted to fight everyone!  Fight my team, fight the
other team, fight the whole world!  I didn't care.  An' I let everyone know
it.  Just like you.  Then, Coach..." he indicated me, "Coach, showed me how
dumb that was.  'You're lettin' 'em beat you twice,' he told me.  'Once
when they beat you.  Then again when you show how much it got to ya'!  Why
give 'em an advantage?'  So I thought about it.  An' he was right.  Why let
'em know they got to me?  Why let 'em know I can't take it?  Coach showed
me the right way.  If you lose, suck it up!  Smile, shake hands, don't let
'em see nothin'!  Makes you look good.  Then come back and beat 'em next
time!"  Bone turned to look at me.  "Right, Coach?"

"Yup," I said, nodding seriously.  "That's exactly right.  Dink, there's
nothing wrong in hating to lose.  I hate it, too.  None of us like it.  But
if you show your frustration and anger, it just makes you look bad.  And it
gives your opponent one more victory over you."

"This is how ya' do it," Bone told Dink.  "I'll show ya'."  He turned to JJ
and held out a hand.  "You guys played great," he told him.

My slender left-hander shook hands, then Bone held up a palm to Evan
sitting on Cowboy's shoulders.  The young boy, who was staring at Bone with
hero worshiping awe, high-fived with him.  "Nice goin', Speedy," Bone told
him.  "You got guts.  Way ta' hit!  Way ta' run those bases!  You can play
on my team any time!"  After giving my small player a caress on his denim
covered knee, Bone looked around at all the other boys.  "Hope you guys
know how lucky you are to play for Coach.  Ain't nobody else..." He
stopped, looking down for a moment, and then went on, "You guys is just
lucky, that's all.  I'd give anything to be you."

My arm went around his shoulders and the lanky boy leaned against me as I
hugged him.  "Thanks, Stud," I whispered.  Bone nodded.  "You guys did
great today," I told my boys.  "Evan's mom has more ice cream for us.
Let's go get it!"

With a cheer the boys took off for Carol's car, where a freezer box in the
trunk held a stack of ice cream treats.  There was more celebrating, and
within minutes, as it always is with 11 and 12-year-olds, the score of the
game had been forgotten, along with the winning and losing.  Instead the
kids were all talking about the good plays they had made.

"Thanks for coming," I told all the 'ringers', first giving Adrian a hug,
then Todd, Dennis, Will and even young Matt.  "You guys made this a big
success and a lot of fun!"

"Coach, you gotta promise to help out with swim team this winter," Adrian
said anxiously.  Giving the beautiful lad another shoulder squeeze I
promised that I would.  "Coach," Dennis pleaded, tugging at my arm, "I'm
playin' football this season."  "Me, too," Todd reminded me.

"Yup," I said, kneeling to put an arm around both their waists.  "And you
know I'll see you there!  We'll have a great season.  Now, be sure and tell
your parents about the overnight.  We'll go Saturday after next.  Evan's
mom will call your parents."

"Uh-huh." ... "Uh-huh." the boys chorused, nodding their heads.

"And you two," I told Will and Matt, beckoning them to me so I could take
them around their waists."  Practice tomorrow and games on Thursday and
Saturday.  I want you there!"

"We will, Coach."  Will leaned hard against me and then wrapped his arms
around my waist and hugged tight while I patted his back.

"It's okay," I whispered.  "It'll all be okay.  You'll see..."

Glancing around, I looked for Casey and saw him along with Dink and Adrian,
talking to Lance.  But before I could go over, Bone came to me.

"Tough luck, Stud," I said, putting an arm around him.

The boy looked up at me.  "I really wanted to go fishing with ya', Coach."
Bone's eyes were shining with tears, and momentarily the young boy who
lived behind the tough guy mask Bone showed the world peeped out at me.

"We're goin'," I assured him, squeezing his shoulders.  "Just don't tell
the others.  I'm gonna take you myself.  Just us two.  I'll arrange it.
And don't you worry about your All-Star season and the Regional
Tournaments.  I'll be there for you.  I swear."

Wordlessly Bone hugged against me, trembling a little as I stroked his
back.  "You and me, Stud.  Just you and me," I whispered.  "Just one thing.
You brush your teeth, an' you don't chew nothin' but gum when you're with
me, okay?"  Bone giggled, looking up at me.  He wanted to kiss me then.  I
could see it in his eyes.  But of course, there was no way it could happen
right there.  "You just keep callin' me after your games and will set it
up," I told him, "Do good for me now."

"Uh-huh."  Bone nodded his head, pushing it against my chest.

I finally made it over to Casey, who was still with Lance and Dink.
"Thanks for helping," I told Lance, shaking hands.  "It's always better
with two umps.  Listen, here's the deal..." I explained about Will and his
brother practicing with us and helping in the dugout during games.  "You
still want me in there?"  Lance asked.  "Oh yeah," I told him with a grin.
"Now you'll just have more help is all."

The handsome teen grinned back, nodding in understanding.  I looked at
Dink.  "You did good today, Hot Shot.  Just try to control that temper of
yours."

My star rookie met my eyes.  "I just hate losin' is all."

"Same here," I told him, bending down so only he could hear.  "But you
can't let losing conquer you.  You gotta conquer it!"

Finally I turned at Casey and put a hand on his shoulder.  "What a game you
had today, Tiger.  Home run... That great catch..." The boy's eyes glowed
with pride.  Unlike most of the others, Casey had little interest in
winning or losing--or camping trips on the mountain.  Instead it was praise
and attention that he craved.  I rubbed my palm on the firm rounded muscle
of his upper arm, unsure of how much intimacy he would be comfortable with
since his friends were standing right there.  Apparently he was
unconcerned, because his arm went around my waist and he leaned against me.
I saw Dink and Lance exchange a quick glance.

Casey was wearing a loose red T-shirt along with his tight blue jeans.
Circling my palm slowly I stroked Casey's back and shoulders through the
shirt, feeling every contour of his perfect body.  The soft well-worn
fabric slid easily on the underlying smoothness.  Visions of Casey naked in
my arms came into my mind.  I had to stop myself from pushing a hand
beneath his clothing.  The boy looked up and our eyes met.

"When's your mom comin' to pick you up?"  My voice was thick with passion.

It was Lance who answered.  "Ruth asked me to give him a ride today, Coach.
I got both him an' Dink."

Damn!  I thought.  My arm went around at Casey in a hug as I tried to think
of some maneuver that would keep the boy with me so I could take him home
myself.  But I knew right away it would be foolish to try.  Anything I came
up with would trigger suspicions--in Lance certainly, and probably Dink as
well.  So, with a fond pat I released Casey, gave Dink's shoulder a quick
pat as well, and then shook hands with Lance again.  "Practice tomorrow," I
reminded him, switching to a topic that would take his attention away from
anything he might have noticed.  "We'll run some fast double-play drills.
That Will kid is a good infielder.  He'll give Bryce, Cowboy and the rest
some competition.  Then we can have bat-arounds.  We'll get the gang sharp
for Thursday's game."

The handsome teen grinned and nodded.  "You want me to come early on
Thursday, Coach?  Help you line the field?"

"Hell, yeah!  An extra hand makes that go way quicker!"  We shook again, I
held out a fist for Casey and Dink to tap, and then all three of them
walked away toward Lance's Land Rover.  I ended up packing all the team
equipment by myself that afternoon, distracted the entire time by thinking
of Casey stretched out on my back seat, naked except for high socks and
ball cap, panting, clutching at me, heaving in ecstasy as I rubbed his
nipples and sucked on his rigid boy stick.

It did not make it any easier to drive home alone.

* * * * *

My bringing Will and his young brother into our practices and games worked
out even better than I expected, benefiting our entire team in
unanticipated ways.  Will was an easy kid to like.  He got along well with
everyone and was not a leader type, so he was no threat to Bryce, Cowboy or
JJ.  Plus he was no threat to anyone's playing time, since he could not
participate in games.  In practice on Wednesday, Will's upbeat competitive
personality kept everyone moving faster.  Then in our game Thursday, his
spirit in the dugout was a real asset.

I gave Will and 10-year-old Matty team caps and practice shirts like the
rest of the kids wore, each lettered with their name and favorite number.
Wearing these along with tight blue jeans at the game Thursday night, both
youngsters sat in the dugout with the rest of the team; Matty playing the
role of bat boy, Will aiding Lance as assistant bench coach.  The
arrangement certainly made things easier for me, and when I heard even more
cheering than usual coming from our dugout during the game, I knew bringing
Will and his brother in had been the right decision.  JJ did a great job of
pitching for us that night and we won in a close game with a team whose
coach I knew had expected to contend with Big Mike for the championship.
Afterwards that coach was smiling when he shook hands with me, but I was
sure that inwardly he was not pleased at all.

It was a fun game for me all around.  The thing with Will was working out;
JJ was a happy kid going home with a victory; all my boys were playing
well.  Best of all I got a chance to hug Casey twice; once when he stroked
a run-scoring double in the fifth inning, and another when he made a pretty
running catch out in center field.

"Saturday, try to get your mom to let you stay with me after the game," I
whispered and he nodded eagerly.

In honor of our victory, because some of the parents asked for it, I gave
the team Friday off, reminding them that we had the one o'clock game on
Saturday.  I would have preferred having a practice – if it had been up
to me, I would have preferred seeing the kids every day of the week!
Including Sunday!  But there were times when I had to be reasonable.

[ To Be Continued In Parts G through I ]

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

Hope you enjoyed it!  This baseball series has a 'long' short story for
every position.  Look for a new chapter or two each month.

Thanks for taking the time to read my story and if you'd like to comment,
my e-mail address is:

			hunterjoe45@yahoo.com

I will try to answer all serious mailings.  My on-line access is very
limited.  Rants and ravings will not get consideration.

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You can find links to all my other stories on Nifty under my name, Joe
Hunter, listed under the J's (for Joe) in the prolific authors list.  To
get that list click the Authors tab at the top of the Nifty home page and
then select 'Prolific Authors'.  I hope you will read and enjoy!

All the Best.  Joe