Date: Thu, 14 Apr 2011 23:05:37 +0000
From: Douglas DD DD <thehakaanen@hotmail.com>
Subject: The Perfect Game  Chapter 11

Being in sixth grade at the bottom of middle school food change isn't
easy. It's even harder when turning out for a team---the seventh and eighth
graders tend to be bigger, faster, and stronger. With a JV team the eighth
graders are eliminated since they can only play varsity, but the seventh
graders are still there, wanting each position they feel is rightfully
theirs. Eric and Scott are sure they're going to make the team at the same
they are not sure so they are going to make the team. This is the case in
this chapter as the sixth graders turning out for the Mayfield Middle
School Titans give their best and then have to wait to find out if they
made the second cut and will have a spot on the JV team for the Spring.
Comments are most welcomed at thehakaanen@hotmail.com.  Many thanks to
those of you who have taken the time write.

CHAPTER 11
SECOND CUT


Eric woke up with a start. He couldn't figure out what was on top of
him. He slowly opened his eyes and let the haze clear out of his head. The
weight on him was Scott's head and arm as his friend was strewn partially
across his own chest. The pleasant memories of the night before now started
to flood him as he realized he had morning wood. He also realized he had to
pee.

He slowly worked his way out from under Scott, but the movement woke his
friend. Like Eric it took him a couple of moments to get oriented.

"Hey, cutie. Good morning," Scott said in greeting.

"Cutie? You called me cutie?"

"Well you are kind of cute, you know."

"I hate being cute. I want to be handsome or something."

"Cute will have to do. It's all I can think of right now."

In spite of his protestations, Eric was pleased to be called cute by
Scott. But he also wondered if being called cute by another boy was gay
even if he was your best friend. Then he kicked the thought aside and lived
in the moment. And the moment said he was happy to be naked in bed with his
best friend.

"What time is it?" Scott asked.

"You can see the clock better than I can since you are practically
smothering me."

Scott peered around Eric to look at the reading on his alarm clock. "Almost
nine," he said. "Still too early to get up."

"Maybe for you, but I gotta pee."

"Then get up and pee and come back to me. Hey, I could turn that into a
song. What do you think?"

"I think it needs a little work. Now get up off me so I can go pee."

Scott rolled off of Eric and reached down to fondle his genitals. "Looks
like you gotta really pee. You've got some serious wood down there." Eric
grabbed Scott's dick, which was hard as well and smiled. Just twenty-four
hours ago he never would have imagined waking up naked in bed with a friend
and both of them fondling each other, yet this morning it felt as natural
as shaking hands.

"Guess we both should get up and pee. I suppose as long as we're up we
might as well shower and stay up...and I don't mean down there," he said
with a high-pitched boy giggle. Scott couldn't help but giggle as well. He
felt happy and content in ways his young brain couldn't explain; being with
Eric made him feel good all over.

The boys battled their boners and worked to fill the toilet bowl, standing
side-by-side taking care of their morning business.

"Who showers first?" Eric said, wishing in the back of his head that they
just have just stepped into the shower and peed there---with their boners
it would have been much easier. He didn't wait for an answer saying, "I
think I should first since I'm the guest."

"I think we should shower together," Scott said, taking the lead as he so
often did.

"I think you're right," Eric replied with the bright smile that kept making
Scott's heart speed up.

Scott turned on the shower, testing the water temperature. He had Eric
check it as well to make sure it was okay. The water passed its test and
both boys stepped into the shower. It was a large walk-in shower with one
shower head. The boys stood next to each other, shoulders touching, moving
a bit from side to side to get their heads and bodies wet. The warm water
and the feel of each other's wet body had a predictable effect on
them. Eric watched Scott's semi- hard dick become full hard in a matter of
seconds and his quickly followed the lead. The two of them were quickly
getting used to seeing each other with a boner.

"Can I wash your back?" Scott asked somewhat breathlessly, his normally
high boy voice sounding a bit lower than usual.

"Yeah, go ahead, that would be cool."

Scott grabbed the soap and soaping his friend's back up by his neck,
getting the shoulders, and then working his way down until he reached the
top of Eric's glistening white bubble butt. He washed the right cheek, then
the left, not only rubbing the soap along the perfect mounds but rubbing
them and kneading them. Eric closed his eyes and moaned. "That feels really
good," he said.

The cascading water quickly took the suds off of Eric's back. Scott found
himself totally turned on by the quick journey of his soap filled
hands. The youthful hormones flowing through his body took him over. He put
the soap on the soap holder and brought himself up against the cute blonde
in front of him. He wrapped his arms around Eric's waist, letting his hands
slide down Eric's wet belly to rub across his hard, throbbing, four inch
cocklet. Eric moaned with pleasure, not at all surprised by the amorous
advances of his friend. He leaned back against Scott's young, athletic
body. He could feel Scott's hard penis pushing against his right butt
check.

Scott fondled Eric's testicles, rubbed his swollen cock, took his other
hand and felt his buddy's left butt cheek as he rubbed his dick against the
right one. He leaned his chin on Eric's shoulder, causing him to hunch down
some. The result was his dick pushed against Eric's butt cheek even harder
as his own facial cheek made contact with Eric's smooth cheek. It was hand
to cheek, cock to cheek, and cheek to cheek.

Scott started humping against his friend, tiny grunts emanating from his
lips. His mind was so much on his own dick, on the feeling of their wet
bodies together, that his right hand dropped from Eric's cock and rubbed
the blonde boy's sensitive belly. Both boys were now lost in themselves and
in each other. They both wanted nothing more than to let their dicks
explode.  Even without Scott's hand on him Eric could feel the explosion
welling up in him. Scott pushed hard against Eric, his motions becoming
more frantic, his left hand somehow finding its way into Eric's ass crack.

Without thinking Scott kissed Eric's neck as his right hand rubbed Eric's
belly and chest, his left hand rubbing Eric's ass, and his hard boy cock
humping Eric's ass and back for all it was worth. Eric was stunned at
Scott's kissing him. But then he didn't care because it all felt good and
right.

"Oh, fuck, Eric, I'm gonna cum!" Scott got out as he shot three large drops
of almost clear boy cum over Eric's back and butt. Eric moaned as he felt
the warmth over him even with the water running and he suddenly came
himself. His dick twitched, spasmed, and shook and a drop of clear liquid
shot high in the air as he had a no touch cum.

Both boys felt week in the knees and sank to the shower floor. Scott had
his back against the back wall and Eric leaned back against him as Scott
put both arms around his friend. Both boys were momentarily breathless and
speechless. What they had just experienced was their most intense orgasm
ever. Scott realized that this was so much more than that first JO in the
shower with Marty so long ago. This was almost like...well, like sex.

He kissed and nipped at Eric's neck, heedless of what his friend might
think, but feeling it was okay. And it was. Eric tried to gather his
thoughts, but couldn't seem to get anything together in his head, so he
just leaned back against his friend, loving the feeling of the arms that
were wrapped around him and the nibbling of Scott's lips on his neck and
then on his cheek. The water from the shower fell on the boys. They had
almost forgotten it was there.

It was Eric who spoke first. "That was so beyond awesome."

"It was. I came so hard I'm still shaking."

"I cummed without touching myself. It was amazing. I never felt anything so
good."

"Me either. I came on your butt."

"You kissed me," Eric said quietly.

"I know. Are you mad at me? Do you think it was maybe gay or something."

"No. I liked it. We just got all hot. This must be what sex is like. It was
way more than just jerking off."

"I was thinking the same thing. I just wanted you so much."

"Just so you don't think I mind you kissing me, here is something for you."
Eric turned his body and gave Scott a long kiss on his cheek, his hand
rubbing Scott's side. "How's that?"

"It's good. I liked it. Damn, the water is starting to cool off. I think
we're pretty clean. I mean we've been here long enough. Guess he better get
out of the shower."

Eric got off of the floor and turned off the water. The boys grabbed their
towels. Instead of drying himself Scott started drying Eric. The two of
them dried each other thoroughly then walked across the hall.

"I don't want to get dressed. I want to be naked with you all day," Eric
said.

"Me, too. But I want food almost as much and we have to get dressed to get
breakfast."

They both put gym shorts and a t-shirt on and headed downstairs where
Scott's mother was cooking breakfast. The smell of the sizzling bacon
shifted their attention from each other to their stomachs, as growing boys
will do.

"You boys let the shower run a long time," Scott's mom said.

"Takes awhile for two of us to shower," Scott said.

"Think about leaving some hot water for your sister next time."

"It will heat up again."

"Scott, just think about it, okay?"

Scott sulked a little but nodded his head yes. He then focused his
attention on the incoming breakfast.

They all sat at the table and were soon joined by Lindy. "Thanks for
leaving me hot water, Scott."

Scott decided to ignore her this time. He didn't want to create a big to do
with Eric watching.  Instead he attacked his breakfast.

"You still haven't taken up the invitation to have dinner at Eric's after
practice," Scott's mom said.

"I know. Things keep happening. Hey," he said to Eric, "maybe your mom can
treat us on Tuesday after we both find out we made the team."

"Sure," Eric said. "It can be a victory dinner or a funeral."

"You're going to make it. Trust me. I know better than you what the
competition is like. I played with a lot of these guys and you are way
better. Just your pitching alone would be good enough, but you're a really
great fielder, and you hit the crap out of the ball."

"My pitching sucked. The extra eight feet from last year made everything
slow." The sixth graders were moving from a 46 foot rubber to a 54 foot
rubber.

"You remember what the coaches said. They want people to throw strikes. And
you were throwing strikes and I bet they saw that."

"Whatever. I was throwing meat balls compared to you."

Eric quit talking and tackled his breakfast, bringing an end to that line
of conversation.  Tomorrow would be the last practice before the second and
last cut. He just wished it would all be over and he knew exactly what he
would be doing this spring. He was happy Scott had so much confidence in
him and he wished he could mirror it. He couldn't remember ever being so
worried.

The boys finished eating and helped clear the table and load the
dishwasher. They went up to Scott's room where they spent their time
playing games, talking about baseball, and doing homework until Eric headed
for home. What they didn't do was talk about what had happened in Scott's
bed the night before or the intense scene in the shower that morning. Both
boys had things to think about and as much as they were learning to trust
each other there were things that they weren't ready say just yet.

Scott came by Eric's house at the usual time the next morning. They boys
talked about baseball and the fact that the second and last cut would be
made after practice.

"I kind of wish the coaches would wait and give us more of a chance to show
what we can do.  I mean there's still a lot of time until the first game,"
Eric said. "But I guess I'm glad they're doing it now, because I want to
know what's going to happen and I can't wait any longer."

"I guess they know what they're doing," Scott said. "Might as well do it
now." Scott was totally confident he would make the JV squad. Eric would
have normally had the same level of confidence, but his being so new lent
an air of uncertainty he wasn't sure how to handle. In his heart he knew he
was as good as anybody on the field except Scott and Danny. What he wasn't
sure about was whether the coaches had seen enough of him to know how good
he was.

The school morning dragged on. The lunch break seemed even more welcome
that usual. Eric sat with Scott, Danny, and the twins, and was surprised,
but pleased to see that Bobby had invited Noah to sit with them.

"No use in Noah always sitting by himself. He's cool and he's my friend."

Nobody at the table objected to Noah's presence. They had nothing against
Noah and had never done anything to bother him. It was just that outside of
Bobby and Eric none of them had really bothered to be friendly or have
anything to do with the young boy.

And now that he thought about it, Eric realized that he should have been
more open to being a friend to Noah since Eric was new in town and knew
what it was like trying to make new friends.

They had gained a level of respect for him in the few days they had been on
the practice field together. They had seen the small boy work his ass off
and had seen that he had a high level of talent. He did nothing on the
field halfway and he made a few boys, Danny and the twins included, step up
their own pace to keep up with him. They knew he played summer ball, but
summer ball was by age level and none of them had seen Noah play. Everybody
at the table, including Noah, was pretty sure this would be Noah's final
day of practice.

"You've been looking pretty good out on the field, Noah" Scott said.

"Thanks," Noah replied shyly.

"If the coaches were smart they'd keep you over a couple of the dorks out
there who think they got the team made just by showing up," Bobby said.

Noah said nothing. Like Eric, who was across the table from him, he
desperately wanted to make the team, but was sure that boys who were bigger
and who were better would beat him out for a spot.

The boys talked baseball and other stuff until they had all finished
eating. Eric and Scott headed for the ping pong tables while Bobby and Noah
walked out into the courtyard. It was chilly, with a feel of rain in the
air, but it was also private and the two boys were able to share some of
their fears about making the team. Bobby felt so good around Noah that even
if either one of them didn't make the team he knew something good had come
from turning out for baseball.  The good thing was having Noah as a
friend. He wondered why he hadn't seen what Noah was like long ago.

 After they finished eating Scott, Eric, Danny, and the twins went to the
game area of the foyer to play ping pong. Bobby and Noah took advantage of
the sun breaking out by going out into the courtyard to talk and get to
know each other better.

The bell rang, classes started, and the afternoon dragged by, but like all
school afternoons have a way of doing, this one finally ending with the
final bell. The boys were soon out on the JV field doing their best to
impress the coaches.

It was during pitching practice that Eric learned what could happen from
trying too hard. It was his turn to take the bullpen mound behind the third
base bench area. Carl was doing the catching. Carl was an overweight sixth
grader who always caught on his summer teams because he of his size and
because he was woefully slow. He was not a very good catcher.

Eric figured he was well warmed up and knew this was his last chance to
impress the coaches with his pitching skills. He figured the way to do that
was to throw as hard as he could. His problems started right away as his
fastballs sailed up and outside as he consistently overthrew.  The harder
he threw the worse it got and he could feel the frustration well up inside
of him. Plus, Carl was having a hard time even catching the pitches that
were close, making him look worse.

"Don't throw so hard," came the voice of Coach Adam, who was supervising
and observing from behind the mound. Coach Adam was a volunteer coach. He
had graduated from high school last year. He was a pitcher and outfielder
for the baseball team and had played varsity ball for two years. He was now
attending junior college in Centralia, but was unable to play baseball this
spring because he had to undergo knee surgery in January.

"I'm not throwing hard," Eric said.

"Yes you are. Just throw strikes."

Adam had made the classic mistake of disputing a statement by a
pre-adolescent. This made Eric want to throw even harder, and so he did.

"Look," Adam said, "if you don't want to do it right then go to another
part of practice."

"I am doing it right!" Eric knew he was blowing it, but he couldn't help
himself. In his mind his fastball was too slow getting to the plate so
there could be no way he was throwing too hard.

Coach Sanders, who was on the other side of the bench area running a drill,
overheard the exchange. He turned around and said, "Coach Adam, how about
switching places with me for a few minutes."

"Sure, coach." Adam could sense he was losing control of the situation with
Eric and was happy to get a change, not realizing that Coach Sanders was
making the switch before his inexperienced assistant let things get out
totally of hand.

To Eric the switch of coaches meant he was in big trouble. He knew he was
blowing all of his chances of making the team. For the most part he was an
easy going boy, but like all competitive boys his sense of competitiveness
sometimes took over to the point that he found it difficult to control his
emotions. This was one of those rare times. He figured he had better defend
himself.

"I wasn't throwing too hard, coach," he said, trying to keep the whine out
of voice that seemed to come out anyway.

"I understand, son," Coach Sanders said calmly. "There's something I'd like
for you to do for me."

Eric, who was prepared to get chewed out, was a bit taken aback by the
coach's quiet demeanor. "Sure, coach. What is it?"

"Think about how you threw the other day---easy motion, ball in the strike
zone, throwing with confidence. Carl, give Eric a nice steady target to
hit."

Giving a steady target was not one of Carl's strengths. In fact, he really
had no strengths as all when it came to baseball except for his enthusiasm
for the game and his ability to hit. "Sure, Coach," Carl said.

He held up his glove and Eric threw to it, hard. "Nice and easy, Eric. Stay
within yourself." He turned to the field. "Hey, Scott, grab a bat and come
over here a minute," he yelled.

Scott grabbed his bat and came over. Coach Sanders told him to take his
batting stance at the plate. Scott did as he was told and Eric went back to
throwing. Having Scott standing there gave him a better idea of where he
wanted to throw, and Carl actually gave him a decent target on
occasion. Soon he was throwing with easy motion he had learned from his
summer coaches and, compensating a little for the greater distance, he
started focusing on the target, forgetting Scott was there. The ball
started to consistently find the strike zone.

"Much better job, Eric. Remember, throwing strikes is what a good pitcher
does. Home plate doesn't move. Stay within yourself, hit your target, and
you will do just fine." Coach Sanders watched as Eric threw a dozen more
pitches, then sent him over to the drill work. He told Scott to get warmed
up and called over Kevin, one of the twins, and probably the best catcher
on the JV field. "Carl, get Scott warmed up while Kevin puts on his
gear. Nice job back there."

He switched back with Adam, making a mental note to remind Adam that once
he contradicted a player of this age, or perhaps any age, he stood a good
chance of igniting an argument he had no chance of winning.

When practice ended the boys on the field knew this would be the last
practice for many of them. The afternoon had been sunny and warm, the
nicest one since turnouts had begun, and there was a sense of sadness in
all of them that with the first day of spring weather some of them had had
their last practice.

Coach Ecklund came down from the varsity field. He thanked everybody who
turned out for their hard work. He told them that this was the hardest part
of his job, but the rules (not to mention the school district budget)
stated that only so many players could be kept on the two squads. He told
them that he and Coach Sanders would make the final picks tonight, but
would not post them in the morning. He said they would be at the school by
seven and would meet with them personally to deliver the news. They were
not required to come in to talk, and those who did not wish to could learn
of their fate after school when the list of players would be posted on the
main bulletin board in the locker room.

They boys headed for the gym. The varsity was already clearing out except
for a couple of stragglers still in the shower. Most of the JV boys weren't
in the mood to shower; they just wanted to clear out. Kevin, Kraig, Marty,
and a couple of seventh graders headed for the shower. The rest of the boys
changed and headed for home.

"I don't think I'm going to be able to sleep tonight," Eric said. "I'm
going to be too nervous."

"Too bad it's a school night or we could not sleep together," Scott
said. It took Eric a moment to figure out what Scott was talking about,
then he blushed and smiled when he figured it out.  Scott chuckled, happy
that he could make his friend smile.

"Are you coming over for homework?" Scott asked.

"Yeah. But nothing else. Not tonight."

"Whatever you want, bro." Scott was a little disappointed, but in a way he
understood. He had every bit of confidence he was going to make the team,
and he knew in his heart Eric would, too. For one thing, he figured Coach
Sanders wouldn't have gone over to the bullpen area for just anybody. He
saw that as a good sign; that and the fact that Eric was flat out a good
ballplayer.

The boys showered and ate at their own houses. After dinner Eric trotted
over to Scott's house.  Neither of them had much homework. When they
finished they lost themselves in video games until it was time for Eric to
go home.

Eric was just leaving Scott's room when Scott grabbed his arm. "Wait a
second. I have something for you."

"What?"

"This," Scott said as he planted a quick kiss on Eric's right cheek.

Eric found himself blushing again. "What was that for?" he asked.

"For good luck." Scott was afraid for a moment that he had done the wrong
thing.

"Cool. Thanks. Um...I like that kind of luck."

The boys looked at each other knowing that somehow another magic moment had
passed between them. As Eric took off for home he reminded Scott that
dinner was at his house after practice tomorrow.


Coach Sanders, and Coach Ecklund headed for the Mayfield café where they
took a corner booth. It was time to compare notes and to make the decisions
they always dreaded making, but had to make every year. Coach Ecklund was a
veteran of 25 years of teaching and coaching, all in Mayfield. He had been
the head coach at the middle school from his first year of teaching. After
15 years of coaching very successful middle school teams he was asked to
coach the high school JV team which he did for three years. His second team
went undefeated and had the core of one of the varsity's league
championship teams. However, he realized that his heart was in coaching
middle school kids. He loved the age group and felt he could contribute
more to the baseball program by doing what he did best, which was coach
middle school.

His successor left the district after three years, heading for a large city
school. It was a great time for him to go back to middle school. Coach
Sanders was hired out of college a couple of years later. He had played
four years of college ball and was eager to get into coaching. He proved to
be an excellent hire and was now in this fifth year of coaching the middle
school JV.  Coach Ecklund knew that his assistant was going to seriously
apply for high school jobs around the state and he was going to do his best
to help him out. He was too good a coach to spend any more time being a
middle school JV coach. It was time for him to move up.

The coaches looked at the menu and ordered dinner. They then laid out their
notes. Coach Ecklund had a legal pad and a pen ready to take more notes.

"We probably kept too many eighth graders on the varsity," Coach Ecklund
said. "But for some of them it could be their last chance, and I've always
felt an eighth grader with any potential should get that chance. It will
cost a couple of sixth graders spots on the JV, but they'll be back next
year. The ones who really want to play always come back out. The seventh
grade class is pretty decent, but those sixth graders have some serious
talent."

"Eight eighth graders is the fewest you've kept since I've been here."

"They are not a very good class as far as talent goes, and even worse as
far as attitude. Steve and Cameron might be the only ones who will ever see
serious varsity time in high school. But you know, that's why I kept more
than those two. Because you never know who's going to come around surprise
us and themselves."

"I know."

Their salads arrived and they started talking about which fifteen kids they
were going to keep on the JV. They started with the seventh graders, both
agreeing right away that Marty was a keeper, based on talent if nothing
else. Both coaches hoped that Marty could find a way to get his head on
straight.

By the time their steaks arrived they had pared the list of seventh graders
to ten, with six of those definite keepers. They then started talking about
the sixth graders. Scott was the first to make the definite yes list along
with Danny. The twins, Kevin and Kraig made the list.

Eric was the next player to come up. "It's nice to have a kid with that
kind of talent move in. He still has a lot of growing to do, but he's
quick, fields cleanly, hits the ball solidly, and throws strikes as a
pitcher. He's had good coaching and is a fundamentally sound player."

Coach Sanders talked about the incident during Eric's pitching
practice. Coach Ecklund agreed that part of the issue was Adam's
inexperience in working with kids and both were pleased that Eric came
around and did what he was asked to do with proper prompting.

"He's a keeper," Coach Sanders said. "I like him a lot."

"Agreed."

They whittled the list down to eight sixth graders they liked, five of
those keepers. That made eighteen on the list, eleven of them definite.

"There are some sixth graders who for flat out attitude I would love to
keep over some of the spoiled seventh grade brats on the maybe list," Coach
Sanders said.

"Tell me about them."

"Bobby, the red head. I know his home life is not the greatest and there
isn't much money in the family. But he comes to school every day with his
head on straight, works hard in class, and has been busting his butt every
day in practice. He's hungry and he has decent talent to go with that
hunger."

"Okay. Who else?"

"Noah."

"You mean the little munchkin who skipped fifth grade? I haven't seen a lot
of him, but what I from what saw in the first couple of practices he could
easily be overwhelmed by the bigger, older kids."

"It hasn't happened so far. He backs down to nobody, handles himself well
at second base, makes solid contact, and just outworks everybody. He pushes
those around him. He's not afraid to be vocal. In fact he has blossomed out
there on the field. I'd take him over Carl, who can't be bothered to lose
weight, and a couple of others who can't be bothered to run hard if they
think nobody is watching them."

"Carl's dad is on the school board."

"Since when has something like that influenced one of your decisions.?"

"Never. I just wanted you to be aware that by cutting him there will be
some backlash."

"Bring it on."

"Don't forget you're going to be looking for a position in another school
district. I don't have to tell you what kind of influence a school board
member bad mouthing you can have."

Coach Sanders took a bite of steak and chewed on it. After finishing he
said, "One of the many things I've learned from you the last five years is
that our first obligation is to do what's best for the kids. Noah wants to
play and shows it every day. He deserves the chance and I think will thrive
on the team and will help the team. Carl doesn't want to play and shows
that every day.  He's fat and out of shape. He loves baseball, but not
enough to work at hard enough to play at this level. Maybe being cut will
be a wakeup call to get his ass off the couch, quit eating crap, and start
getting in shape. Choosing between him and Noah is not a tough decision."

"You're a good coach and teacher, Vince. You show it every day. Noah it
will be, and I will be right there with you if you get called on the
carpet."

The coaches settled on eight seventh graders and seven sixth graders. Just
like they'd kept fewer eight graders than usual, they'd also kept a couple
more sixth graders than usual. The varsity was young, but with mediocre
talent. The JV team was young and very talented. The coaches were sure it
would be an interesting spring.

To be continued.