Date: Sat, 20 Jul 2013 23:05:50 -0700
From: Douglas DD DD <thehakaanen@hotmail.com>
Subject: Diamond Dreams  Chapter 40

Thank you for returning to the Mayfield Trilogy. I appreciated all of
you who have stuck it out through this coming of age baseball epic.
All of the usual Chapter one disclaimers apply. Please, be safe, and
donate to Nifty.

This chapter covers the Mustangs' season during the sophomore
year of Eric's class. Dallas tries Marty's patience, but Marty thinks he
knows who can help him deal with the young teen's constant
relapsing.

You can contact me, Douglas, at thehakaanen@hotmail.com.


CHAPTER 40
WINNING WAYS

<Saturday, February 12>

[ERIC]

Today ended eight straight days of clouds and rain. Actually the rain
quit yesterday at around ten in the morning, but it stayed cloudy all
day. Today we got some sunshine. I knew exactly what I wanted to
do that afternoon.

I got out of bed early like I usually do, being careful not to wake up
sleeping beauty lying next to me. Noah was an early riser, too, but we
had an agreement not to wake each other up unless we had a reason
to. I went across the hall to the bathroom, started up the shower, and
stepped into the warm stream. I also let out a warm stream of my
own, as I often got a stupid thrill from pissing in the shower in the
morning. Call me crazy if you want, but that's the way I am.

Noah was awake when I returned to the room. He moved his
gorgeous naked carcass out of bed and stretched. God, he looked
sexy doing that.

"Were you satisfied last night?" he asked.

"How could your beautiful ass not satisfy me?"

"I was just making sure."

I got to admire that beautiful ass as its owner made his way out the
door and to the bathroom. There was no doubt in my mind I was the
luckiest fifteen year old boy in the entire world.

We both slipped on t-shirts and lounge pants and headed downstairs
to see what was happening for breakfast. Eggs, bacon, hash browns,
toast, and orange juice was what was happening, and it satisfied both
of us. My mom was a great breakfast fixer.

"Are you going to call Kevin?" Noah asked as we ate.

"That's my plan." And that is exactly what I did a couple of hours later.
Kevin is not an early riser.

After lunch, I grabbed my bucket of baseballs in the garage and took
it out to my pitching area at the very back of our property. Dad and I
had constructed a small pitching mound with a rubber. I took my
home plate shaped mat and placed it 60 feet 6 inches away from the
rubber. There were a few ways I could use our setup. We made a
target that I could throw to, which I could erect behind home plate.
Sometimes I threw to dad, sometimes to Noah, and sometimes to
Scott.

But the best setup was me throwing to Kevin when he was in full
catcher's gear, because then I wouldn't have to hold back. Dad,
Noah, and Scott wore a catcher's mask when they squatted down to
catch my pitches, but it wasn't the same as throwing to Kevin. That
was what I did that afternoon and the next afternoon as well. While
many of us got some throwing in during bad weather at the school
gym under the supervision of Coach Hart or Coach Sanders before
school, it wasn't the same as throwing outdoors.  Pitching from my
mound was the best practice for me. Scott threw on Sunday, too, and
we got a lot accomplished.

I was totally ready for baseball turnouts to start. All of us knew that
even though our team would be made up of mostly juniors and
sophomores, we were going to have a kickass baseball team. We
were ready to start the season and prove it. Plus, we all wanted to
prove to Mayfield that Coach Sanders was a great coach after what
had happened during the summer.

In August, some of Coach Collins's "good old boys" buddies
petitioned to have Coach Sanders replaced. Their petition
complained that in his two years he had posted only a 24-23 record. It
said that he'd chased off talented upperclassmen so he could play his
favorite players, rather than field a team capable of competing at a
high level. The mass suspensions for alcohol use during his first year
were mentioned, even though the administration backed those fully.
By backing, I mean they dropped the interim label and made Coach
Sanders the permanent head coach. The petition asked that Coach
Collins be reinstated in order to bring Mayfield Mustang baseball back
to the highest level.

From the way dad put it, Mr. Wilson, the principal, Coach
Fitzsimmons, the athletic director, and Dr. Benson, the school board
president, pretty much laughed the "good old boys" out of the school
after getting the petition. Coach Sanders was given a new vote of
confidence. Plus, Coach Sanders finally got to transfer to the high
school as a teacher, replacing a math teacher who retired.

<Wednesday, February 16>

[NOAH]

I left my last period class at the bell. It was the day of our baseball
meeting with Coach Sanders. This was the meeting where we got all
of the paperwork our parents needed to sign and the rules were read
and finally something inspirational might be said. I headed for my
locker to dump the books I didn't need and to pack my backpack with
the books I did need.

I was hoping to run into Eric, but no such luck. I stopped off at the
boys' room to take a pee and then headed for Coach Sanders'
classroom. The halls were already emptying as most of the students
were heading out the door to catch a bus or walk home while it wasn't
raining.

On the way, I was stopped by Michelle and Trish who were heading
for their softball meeting, which was going to be in one of the gym
classrooms. They proudly showed me the necklaces they had
exchanged with each other for Valentine's Day.

"What did you and Eric get each other?" Michelle asked.

"Cards," I said.

Michelle just shook her head and said, "You boys are not romantic at
all. Kevin and Lars exchanged baseball cards, if you can believe that.
Kraig and Hunter got pizza, and Justin and Todd did nothing. The
only ones even a little romantic were Rich and Marty."

"What did they get each other?" I asked, as if I really cared.

"Matching boxers with hearts that they wore on Valentine's Day."

"Those are gay boys after my own heart." I admit I was a little
surprised when I heard that. I would have sworn Kevin and Kraig
would be the ones into the underwear exchange. I thought Eric and I
getting each other a really nice card, which is what we agreed to do,
was perfect. I didn't want to get into all of the Valentine's Day stuff
with those two girls, so I didn't say anything. I told them their
necklaces looked nice and that we were going to be late for our
meetings if we didn't get booking.

I ended up having to stop for one more thing before getting to the
meeting. Steve and Crawford were standing and arguing outside of
Coach's room. There was nothing new about them arguing; they did it
a lot. In the end Steve always won, and Crawford went back to
following him and licking his butt for him. It was a very strange
friendship. It was all about Steve, which was true of everything that
surrounded that butthead.

Crawford followed Steve everywhere and jumped as high as Steve
told him to jump. We were surprised last spring that he didn't quit
baseball when Steve did. It wouldn't surprise me if Steve took
Crawford's ass every chance he got, which is probably what made
Steve so homophobic.

"Why the fuck are you going into that meeting?" Steve asked
Crawford. "Not a single senior is turning out to play with that bunch of
fairies." Steve had let his hair grow long and he was sporting a
raggedy beard. Everybody said he was really into drugs. I know he
was missing a lot of school. Steve not turning out for baseball was no
big loss.

"I just want to play baseball," Crawford said. I had heard that line
before, only it was from back when our group was having its
problems and looking like it was going to split up.

"What a crock of shit. You'll be watching from the bench while that
faggot plays his favorite little fuck buddies. If you go in there, I'm
gonna be really pissed off at you."

"Then get pissed, because I'm going in"

I started moving again and nicely timed myself so I entered the
classroom right along with Crawford, passing Steve along the way.
Steve gave me a look that said if it wasn't for Connor he'd be more
than happy to rip my head right off of my neck. The way I saw it,
Steve was not only a loser, he was a coward as well.

Coach Sanders closed the door right after we came in, telling us we
had been on the verge of being late. "You might want to time
yourselves better in the future," he said. I think he just said that to
impress the freshmen since he knew I was a very punctual individual.

"I'm glad you're turning out, Crawford," I said as we found a seat in
the front. Nobody ever wanted front seats, whether it was in class or
in a team meeting. Front seats simply didn't rate. But, when one is
the last to enter a room, there is often no choice.

"I was afraid Steve was going to stop me. I'm glad you came by."

"Don't let that butthead run your life," was all I said as Coach Sanders
got the meeting started.

It went just like I said it would. We all got packets of paperwork for our
parents to fill out, he and Coach Hart told us what the rules would be,
and we got that little inspirational talk. What Coach Sanders told us
was, that we were young, but the juniors did have a year of varsity
experience and the sophomores (meaning my class) had put together
a great JV season last year, and some even got a little varsity
experience.

"I expect this year's varsity to be good. There should be no half of a
season in which we tell each other we're growing and having a
learning experience. That was last year. This year we develop
winning ways. I expect us to be at the top of the heap to start and for
us to stay there. You are a talented group. Many of you learned how
to play at the varsity level last year, and at end you learned to win at
that level. This year you build on that by showing you are one of the
best and that you are a team to be feared."

I'll tell you this. He got my adrenalin going. I was totally ready to start
turnouts right then. But I had to wait for a few days until baseball
started for real.

A new kid turned out for the team. He was a freshman and his name
was Blaine. He didn't get off to a good start at the first practice when
he showed up on the field wearing his hat backwards. That just
wasn't done in Mayfield, at least not on a baseball field. Since both
the JV and varsity squads were practicing together to begin with,
Blaine had to face the wrath of Coach Sanders. Coach Hart, the JV
coach, was a good coach and strict and all that, but he did not carry
the clout that Coach Sanders carried. Nobody did.

"Turn your hat around, please, son," Coach Sanders told him politely.
Blaine probably got away with stuff like that in Seattle, which is where
he came from. I heard from Justin and Toby that he was not happy to
have moved here. He enjoyed spending his time playing the role of
asshole, saying how much he hated Mayfield and Mayfield High
School and everybody here. But he was turning out for baseball,
which had to mean he had some redeemable qualities.

When he didn't turn the hat around, Coach Sanders turned up the
heat a little, telling him again to turn his had around, but leaving out
the word please. When that got him a smirk, Coach Sanders said
very calmly, "You know where the door to the gym is and you know
where the front of your hat is. So, you can find one of them and move
it 180 degrees, or you can turn your entire body 180 degrees, head
for the door and go home. Your choice."

Blaine gave Coach another smirk, but he did turn his hat around.
While everybody thought that Blaine was a total asswaffle, just the
fact he did what he was told was an indication that Blaine really did
want to play baseball. I told Eric that after practice and he agreed.

"But, I think he's going to be trouble. He doesn't seem to want to fit
in." Eric ended up being partly right. While Blaine ended up not being
trouble, it wasn't until the summer after his sophomore year that he
made any attempt to fit in.

<Saturday, April 2, Spring Break>

[MARTY]

"Damn, Dallas, I swear you are hung over."

The little thirteen year old was meeting with me in my apartment. He
was supposed to meet with me every Saturday, but he wasn't great at
doing it. I know how that works—I wasn't real great at meeting with
Mr. B when I was thirteen.

"It was the start of spring vacation. What, I'm not supposed to go to a
party? I wasn't going there to get drunk or nothing, it just happened."

"Didn't we talk about going to slippery places?"

"There was nothing fucking slippery about it. Everybody there was my
friend. It's not like when I went to Randy and Rocky's and everybody
tried to stick his fucking cock up my ass."

It seemed strange to hear Dallas cuss in his high pitched voice. He
could easily pass for ten or eleven, and that included in the junk
department. Not that I have sex with him, since that isn't what our
relationship is all about. I mean he's cuter than hell, but I meet with
him to see if we can get him to stay sober for longer than thirty days.
So far, no luck on that front.

I've told Dallas to strip and get into my shower more than once. His
mom and whatever guy she was living with didn't seem to pay much
attention to his personal hygiene, and he didn't pay much attention to
it either. He might be a little dude, but he could create a big stink.
This afternoon wasn't one of those times. It was when he undressed
for the shower that I'd see him naked, He wasn't shy about being
naked in front of me, or anybody else for that matter.

"We need to meet with Mr. B and get you going to meetings again,
especially the young people's meeting in Olympia."

"Fuck Mr. B. I don't even like him. I don't trust nobody who don't know
how to cuss."

"Trust me, he knows."

"Yeah, he just don't do it."

"Rocky cussed I bet."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Did you trust him?"

"No, but only because he kept raping me. I mean, I don't mind getting
my ass fucked, but I got tired of being his fucking little boy ho. So, just
cause somebody cusses don't mean I trust them either."

"Who do you trust?"

"I trust you," he said quietly.

"But I'm not doing much to help get you sober."

"You said trying to get me sober keeps you sober, so what the fuck,
you're sober. Who gives a shit if I am or not?"

"I do, for one. Since you don't want Mr. B to be your sponsor, I guess
we need to find you a different one. You need somebody who can
drive you to meetings. I got an idea for one."

"Who?"

I told him.

"Him? He's a fucking pervert."

"But he cusses a lot."

A while later Dallas agreed to go with me to Mayfield Café to meet
the guy I had in mind. I'd already talked to him about meeting with
Dallas, anticipating Dallas's objections to Sparky.

It hadn't been easy to get the man to agree. "He's a mean little fucker
who's got no respect for anybody, including himself," he said.

"So, doesn't that mean he's ready for you to help him? He sounds like
an alkie to me."

"You know, you can be a big fucker who pisses me off." He and I
have talked often since the first time I went to him for help.

"But you know you love it," I said.

And that is how we ended up sitting at a table in a corner of the café
with The Schnoz. Dallas sat next to me, with Milton, The Schnoz,
sitting across from him.

"Okay, I came. Can I go now?" Dallas asked.

"After you have something to eat," I said.

"Why should I talk to you?" Dallas asked The Schnoz. "You're like the
school perv."

Milton didn't flinch. "You should talk to me because I saw you so
damned drunk at school you could hardly stand up two weeks ago."

"You didn't tell me about that time," I said to Dallas.

"Fuck you. I don't got to tell you everything." He looked at Milton.
"Like you did anything about it. You probably wanted to take me to
that stinky room of yours and fuck my ass because you know I was
too drunk to say no."

"I did do something," Milton said, ignoring Dallas's comment. "I told
the fucking counselor, Mrs. Do Nothing. Said you were a drunk who
needed help. That woman wouldn't know an alcoholic if he walked in
and pissed on her desk."

"I think I like you," he said, changing his tune some. "That bitch don't
know shit at all. I bet I could light up a joint and blow the smoke in her
face and she would think it was one of those nice smelling party
candles."

"You want my help or not?" Milton asked.

"As long as Marty is my sponsor."

"I'll be your junior sponsor. You need The Schn...um...Milton to really
work with you."

"And I ain't gonna work with anybody who isn't going to do the fucking
work himself," Milton said.

Dallas didn't say anything for a long time. I could almost see the
wheels turning in his head. "Last night was the shits," he said quietly.
"I got so drunk and stoned I don't remember crap except my butt was
sore this morning and I woke up naked with Carter Rowe, who is an
asstwat. I got lots of crap from everybody for giving him my ass and
two other guys my ass and for being so fucked up I couldn't get out of
bed to pee, and I'm tired of being..."

"Being what, Dallas?" I asked. I knew what he was about to say.

"Being a whore," he said quietly. "Carter gave me ten fucking dollars,
which was more than other assholes, if it was true they actually
fucked me." Dallas glared at Milton, saying, "Okay, you can help me,
but don't fucking come on to me or I'll kick your ass to tomorrow and
break your big, ugly nose."

"I'm going away tomorrow," Milton said. "I'll be gone until just before
school starts back up. You talk to Marty every day and stay clean
until then. On the first day of school, you meet me in my little office
after you eat lunch. I'll have a book for you."

"Fuck that book shit. I ain't reading no books. Ask Mary."

"Then don't bother showing up."

"Up yours, too. I'll think about being there."

I will say this much for now. Dallas did show up, not just that day, but
for the rest of the school year. I'd be willing to bet there was more
cussing in those meetings each day than in the whole school. But
Dallas stayed sober to the end of the school year. I helped him, too,
especially when he got mad at Milton, which was often. But you gotta
give Dallas credit; he kept going back for more.

After getting that drama out the way, I went home and flopped on my
bed. I was mentally drained. Mr. B knocked on my door and I told him
to come in. We talked about Dallas and Milton. He thought pairing the
two was a good move, although he didn't give it much chance of
working.

"Dallas isn't ready," he said. "He still loves to party, especially after
getting that asshole, Rocky, or whatever his name is, out of his life.
You were sick and tired of being sick and tired. What I hear from
Dallas is that he says he's tired of it, but I really think that's all talk. I
don't think he's really sick of who he is. He hasn't hit his bottom yet."

I told him I didn't entirely agree with him. A big reason I didn't agree
was because I really wanted the cute little bugger to succeed, but I
didn't tell him that.

Mr. B left and I lay back on my bed and thought about how the
baseball had started off. We had talked a lot about winning ways, but
as so often happens, winning is much easier to talk about than it is to
do. Not that we were terrible. We were 6-2 for the season and 3-2 in
league, which really is pretty good when you think about how young
we were and everything. Both of our losses were to the top two teams
in the league, Lakeshore and Kentburg. We lost 6-4 to Lakeshore and
4-1 to Kentburg. Of course, it was Ben who shut us down for
Kentburg, beating Scott.

We had one kind of fucked up incident. Our first game was against
Mountain Ridge Baptist at home. A couple of their players told us
they heard we had a bunch of gays on our team. They said there was
no way we could beat them because God didn't like gays and so he
would punish us by making us lose. Well, Rodney, who is a long way
from gay, gave up three hits over the six innings he pitched. He left
with a 5-1 lead, making it too late for them to get to Rich, a gay boy
and my sexy boyfriend. Five to one ended up being the final score.
That was a really sweet win.

The Nooner would be coming up on Wednesday, and that is always a
big deal here in Mayfield. We were scheduled to play Mason High
School, which is out somewhere past Bremerton. They're supposed
to be pretty good, but then so are we.

That night, after all the Dallas shit that happened, my little bro came
over to the apartment after dinner. He was almost eleven and was
becoming more and more horny, and more and more sexy. Now that
he was figuring out sex, the Hurricane couldn't get enough of it. Three
dry cums by him that night as we jerked each other off, dry humped,
sucked, and did a lot of kissing and cuddling, probably tells the story.
I got off twice, once over Jeff's face and chest, and once in his mouth.

"It was Jeffrey three, Marty two," he said as we cuddled naked to get
to sleep. Like I was counting...okay, I was counting. "You're getting to
be an old man with only two cums."

"You can talk when you start squirting, sport."

"When are you going to fuck me,"

"In your dreams, boy. Ask me again when you're a teenager." Of
course, he would ask me a lot of times before then and end up losing
his cherry just before he turned thirteen.

<April 6, Mayfield High School ballpark>

The ballpark was close to full by noon on Wednesday, as it always
was for the Nooner. The noon game on spring break Wednesday was
a long tradition and the citizens of Mayfield took it seriously. It was
not unusual to see a "Closed for Nooner" sign on the doors of many
businesses. And even if a business was open, the owner would
attend the game, like Gary of The Bear's or Bob of Bob's Burger
Barn.

Noah was excited that he would be suiting up varsity for the game.
He was one of six sophomores who rotated between the varsity and
the JV. He, Gavin, Carl, Danny, Hunter, and Lars would bounce back
and forth depending on the needs of the varsity or the player. The
coaches had Lars play some JV so he could get more pitching in.
Noah usually suited up varsity when Eric was pitching so he would be
available to play second base. When the varsity and JV played on the
same day, which was the case for all the league games, two of the
sophomores would suit up JV and the other four would suit up varsity.
Eric, Kraig, Kevin, and Scott were the only sophomores who played
exclusively on the varsity. Since the Nooner was a non-league affair,
all of the sophomores would be in uniform for the game, although
they all wouldn't be playing.

Eric would be the starting pitcher for the Mustangs. The Mason
Ospreys were an excellent team, having the kind of program Mayfield
traditionally liked to play at the Nooner, namely a winning one. The
day was cold and blustery with a threat of rain. Occasional drizzles
plagued the contest. Eric struggled with his control on the windy
afternoon and went only four innings, giving up four runs. Vince and
Lars finished up as the Mustangs suffered a tough 5-4 defeat with
Eric getting the loss. It was a rare Nooner loss for the Mustangs,
giving the detractors of Coach Sanders another reason to be upset
with him.

<April 7 to May 5, high school season stretch run>

The six weeks from March 13 to May 1 saw eight players on the
Mustangs celebrating birthdays. Vince, Rodney, and Jerome all
turned seventeen in that time span, while the twins, Lars, and Hunter
turned sixteen. Noah, who was younger than his classmates because
he skipped a grade, had his fifteenth birthday.

While each boy had his own individual birthday celebration, Noah
held a big one for all eight birthday boys at his house on Saturday,
April 30.  Eric's was celebrated as well, even though his birthday
wasn't until August. While the air was cool, the pool was warm. It was
filled with eight high school athletes along with twelve year old Nicky,
who was almost overcome by the sight of so many swinging
adolescent cocks. Rodney didn't swim because he'd been sick for
much of the week. He sat on a chair on the pool deck, wearing a
hoodie and jeans.

"Too bad your sister couldn't be here," Rodney said to Noah. "It would
have been great to see her in the raw again." Lisa and Shane had
gone to Tacoma with Noah's mother for a music competition. That
was bad news for the straight boys who wanted to see Lisa naked,
but actually good news overall since Noah's mother might not have
allowed them to skinny dip if Lisa had been home.

At one point the boys started comparing pubic hair, of all things. It
was Nicky who got that started since, having just turned twelve, he
had none. He was curious about who had the most and the least and
asked them all to stay still long enough for him to judge. They all
kidded him, telling him that he was a total twelve year old pervert.

"I'm close to getting pubes," he told them, "I just want to see how it's
going to end up looking on me."

"Are you going to get them before your boyfriend?" Kevin asked.
Kevin knew that Nicky and Jeffrey had a thing going.

"I better; I'm over a year older than that little dork."

After his close inspection, which included running his hands through a
few pubic nests to test thickness, Nicky decided that Jerome had the
most, including ball hairs and butt hairs. He named Vince next, then
Hunter, Rodney, Kevin, Kraig, Eric, Lars, and Noah. Rodney had
reluctantly opened his pants to show Nicky his wares. Sexual games
with other guys generally didn't interest him.

"It looks like somebody got a boner being the judge," Jerome said.

Eric had only a line of hair at the base of his cock, and no hair on his
balls. Lars had wispy hairs and Noah had scattered hairs. "I bet I
have more hair than Noah has now by the time I'm thirteen," Nicky
declared.

"Well, two of the hairiest guys on the team aren't here," Rodney said.
"Connor is right up there with Vince. Marty's got a thick bush over his
dick, but not much anywhere else." Connor was away somewhere
with his uncle, while Marty had a commitment with his adopted family.

Nicky was even more pleased when Eric, Kevin, and Lars agreed to
go to the cabana and jerk off with him. He asked for Lars to
demonstrate how he sucked his own cock and Lars gladly obliged.

"I wish I could do that," Nicky said as he watched. "Chandler is getting
his in his mouth almost as far now. He's going to be fourteen pretty
soon."

"Where did you see him suck himself?" Kevin asked.

"In school."

Kevin grinned. "You must have snuck past The Schnoz."

"I learned that from you, Korey, and Chandler."

"Some traditions never end," Eric said. "I hope The Schnoz got a thrill
from watching you guys go by."

Nicky giggled as he told them how Korey wanted to flash him as they
went past his cubby hole. "But he ended up chickening out," Nicky
said, somewhat disappointed. He didn't have to say that he was as
chicken about doing it as Korey had been.

"I wish one of you guys would fuck me," Nicky said. "Noah still won't
and I'm working on Shane." Nobody was able to respond to his
request because Noah came in and told them it was time to eat.

As they ate, the topic changed from sex to baseball. The Mustangs
were now 11-5 with an 8-4 record in league play. They had clinched a
spot in the league tournament and would be jockeying for seeding
over their final two games.

Eric's two straight shutouts were a big topic. The slender sophomore
had shut out Monte at home on two hits, holding them hitless into the
fourth before giving up a two-out double. He had Kevin getting
excited again about catching a no-hitter, but the double quashed the
hopes of any late game pitching heroics.

But Eric's four-hitter against Kentburg at Kentburg may have been an
even better start. He walked nobody and struck out eight as he
dominated the Royals with his precise location and lively fastball in a
2-0 win. What made the win even sweeter is that he beat his
sophomore rival, Ben, who made a big mistake when Marty
hammered a hanging curveball out of the park in the third for a two-
run homer. That was all of the scoring that Eric needed.

"Everybody wants to tell me I'm the best sophomore pitcher in the
league," Ben said to Eric after the game. "But they all live here in
Kentburg. You're just as good, and sometimes I think you're even
better than me."

"All I know is I love pitching against you," Eric said. And I'd love doing
something else against you, too, Eric thought. He had a bit of a crush
on the handsome sixteen year old.

"We should make it a rule that when the Mustangs play the Royals
we have to start," Ben said.

"I wouldn't argue with that."

The Mustang players talked about their game on Thursday against
Meadow Park. Rodney had missed the game after being sick with the
flu for most of the week and Scott couldn't play because of a sore
knee. Lars, Vince, Kraig, Jerome, and Rich all pitched, none of them
very effectively. But the Meadow Park pitchers were not any better,
and the game turned into an old fashioned slugfest, with the
Mustangs prevailing 14-11. They all agreed that it had been a lot of
fun hitting the cover off of the ball and playing in the back and forth
contest, but they wouldn't want a steady diet of that kind of game.

Rodney ended up being named as the starting pitcher for their
Tuesday game at home against Harborview. A decent crowd of
students, parents, faculty, and interested townsfolk turned out for the
afternoon game. Rodney ended up not being as strong as he had felt
in Monday's practice and was not sharp. He gave up five runs in four
innings of work and the Mustangs ended up losing to the Harborview
Tugs for the second time that season. The final score was 7-5. The
win by Harborview put them a game behind the Mustangs for third
place. The fourth and fifth place finishers had to play each other to
get into the league tournament. Third place was an important place to
finish since the third place team went directly to the double
elimination part of the tournament. The loss to Harborview might have
been their most disappointing of the league season.

The Mustangs weren't real worried about their last game. They were
playing Clark Pass at home on Thursday, and the current Mustang
players had never had any problems with the Eagles going back to
sixth grade. They didn't have any problems in this game either as
they took care of Clark Pass in five innings by an 18-2 score.

The Mustangs regular season was over. They had finished in third
place with a 9-5 record in league and a 12-6 record overall. They
would be playing the second place Kentburg Royals Friday night and
Eric was slated to pitch. This year's league tournament was
scheduled to be held on the Mustangs' home field.

<May 7-21, Postseason baseball>

[COACH SANDERS]

After our last league game, I had to admit I was pleased with how our
season went. I know the boys weren't, but I didn't expect them to be
pleased. I had given them a goal to reach from the start, which was
the goal I knew they wanted. However, while we were a very talented
team, we were still young, with only one senior, and he wasn't a full-
time player. When coaching school ball, one quickly finds out that a
year of maturity makes a huge difference, and this group was still a
year away from being one of the elite teams.

I was looking for this team to be in the mix for a postseason berth,
somewhere between third and fifth in our eight team league. We
finished third, which said a lot about both the talent level and the
determination of the team. The boys expected to be an elite team,
and felt a bit unfulfilled that they weren't. I wanted them to end the
season hungry. I didn't want them to think they'd become as good as
they were going to be. I made no excuses for their not being in the
top two, but in the end it was all about our youth.

At the start of postseason baseball I wanted us to step it up a notch
and go as far as we could. I didn't see us having the maturity to make
it all the way to the final four in Pasco, but I expected us to move up
to Districts, and maybe even advance to Regionals.

Since we finished third in the league, our first game in the league
tournament would be against the second place team, our archrivals
from Kentburg. On the urging of the coaches, the tournament
matchups would change next year. However, for us to go to Districts
this year we would have to win at least twice and could only afford to
lose one game.

Scott and Rodney had both started this week, so Eric was my only
choice to start the tournament opener against the Royals. While
Rodney is the team's most talented pitcher, Eric might be the best
pitcher, even as a sophomore. That is saying a lot because I thought
Rodney was one of the top pitchers in the league. Even though he is
a junior, I've received a few inquiries from small college coaches,
many of them also asking about Eric. Eric had totally shut down
Kentburg two weeks ago, so I was confident he could handle the
veteran team.

And handle them he did, going six innings while giving up four hits
and a run. He wasn't as spot on as his other start, but no pitcher at
any level of baseball pitches at that level of excellence every time out,
and that would be especially true of a high school sophomore. We
didn't have to face the Kentburg super-soph, Ben, this time. Instead
we went up against a senior pitcher who gave up two long RBI
doubles to Marty as we ended up with a 5-3 victory.

I could write volumes about Marty, but I won't do that here. I will just
say that no player has lodged himself as deeply into my heart as that
boy has. He has grown so much over the last couple of years, going
from an angry fourteen year old, often smelling of alcohol and pot, to
a team leader, an honor roll student, and an example that no young
person should ever be written off as a total loss.

By beating Kentburg on Saturday we had the privilege of playing
Lakeshore, the regular season champion. The Sunday game was for
the league tournament title and a trip to Districts.  Since Rodney now
had enough days of rest to pitch, I named him the starting pitcher.

The league tournament was taking place on our field, so Gary, the
owner of Pooh Bear's Pizza, said that win or lose, Saturday pizza
was on the house for the team. That included the coaches, so of
course the coaching staff showed up. I'm sure that put a crimp in the
style of some of the freer spirits.

"You know, coach, winning the league is nice," Rodney said as we
ate, "but this is where it really counts. I'm totally recovered from
whatever I was sick with and ready to beat those Sentinels."

That is exactly what he did the next day, going all seven innings in a
3-2 win. I had Crawford, our lone senior, pinch-hit for Rodney in the
fifth with a runner on second. Rodney was a great pitcher, but for
whatever reason, he was the stereotypical pitcher—that is, a lousy
hitter.

Crawford had come out for the team carrying a lot of personal
baggage, most of it because of the company he kept; in particular,
Steve. But he maintained a good attitude, worked hard, and never
complained about not getting a lot of playing time. In other words, he
was another kid who had grown up some. It was nice to see him
laughing and kidding with his teammates at the pizza parlor.


I knew he had problems with the gays on the team, but he either
ignored his prejudices or decided to be rid of them. Marty and Rich
had become two of his closest friends on the team, and from what I
knew of their history, there had been no love lost between Crawford
and those two since they were in middle school. It is amazing how
sports can help attitudes change.

It was Noah who put things in perspective for me a few weeks after
the season ended. He told me about his incident with Steve in the
boys room when he was a freshman. "Crawford kept Steve from
kicking the...um...crap out of me," Noah said one afternoon when he,
Eric, Kevin, and Lars rode out to my place for a visit. "Connor later set
everything straight, but Crawford was there when I was on the floor
and really scared. So, maybe he's never been as bad as you
thought."

"At least he got smart enough not to hang with Steve any more,"
Kevin said. "Now that dude is the definition of a fucktard...and sorry
for the language coach, but it's true."

When Crawford came up to bat, he managed to work a 3-1 count and
line a run scoring single up the middle. He had only had five hits all
year in limited playing time. None were as big as that one. He
definitely earned his keep in that at bat. I would say that hit was the
highlight of his high school baseball career.

By beating Lakeshore, we won the league tournament and earned a
berth to the District Tournament. I was very proud of my young team.
They were peaking at the right time.

Districts started the next weekend. I picked Scott to pitch the opener
for us, which was against the Beachwood Geoducks, who ended our
season in last year's Districts. Scott was a very good hitter and an
excellent fielding first baseman, but he was an enigma as a pitcher.
He threw harder than any pitcher on the team, but he didn't always
know where the ball was going to go. He had problems slowing the
game down and keeping himself under control. When he pitched well,
he had control of his pitches, but there were times that no matter how
hard he threw he thought he had to throw harder, resulting in his
losing command of his pitches and getting wild.

I worked hard with him to maintain his poise when he was pitching.
Most of the time he did, and Kevin was a big help during a game. But
sometimes he just seemed to want to be super pitcher. I think by the
time he is a senior he will learn to harness that energy, but right now,
as a sophomore, I had to deal with a lot of ups and down. I could only
hope the good Scott would show on Saturday.

<Tuesday, May 10>

[SCOTT]

I didn't get to pitch in the league tournament. That was because we
won both of our games, so we didn't need to have a third game. I was
hoping I'd get the call in one of the first two District games. It would
really suck to not pitch at all in the playoffs. Coach doesn't name his
starting pitcher until the practice before a game. You can beg and cry
and do whatever, but he's been the same way since I pitched for him
in sixth grade. And once he makes up his mind, that's the way it is;
unless somebody gets sick or hurt.

After practice on Tuesday, I walked home with Cindy Cameron, who
waited around for me. She plays on the girl's softball team, but they
didn't make it to the playoffs this year. So she sat up in the bleachers
with Mary Alice and watched our practice.

"I'll drop you off at your house," I said when I met her outside the
gym. "When baseball is done, maybe we can walk home after
school."

She took hold of my hand. She knew that meant that we might be
able to make out after school before her parents got home. We've
made out some since we started going steady, but during the season
it's hard to find the time and a place to do it. One way Cindy is
different than Tama is she doesn't mind getting naked to make out
and she doesn't think she owns you just because you're going out
with her.

I bet she wouldn't even mind if I made out with Eric or some other
guy, even though I don't do that much any more. After that time
Danny fucked me, I've messed with him and Carl some more and
with Danny and his little brother, Troy, a couple more times. That was
fun with his brother. We both showed him about BJs and I watched
Danny take his cherry. I don't think Troy liked it much, but he did want
to try fucking me. I said I don't do that and he didn't push it. Danny
told me that Carl gave his butt to Troy, so Troy knows what it's all
about.

But I'm into girls almost totally now.  Sometimes I do it with guys
when we really need to get off. Eric is so loyal to Noah we don't do
anything together any more. I think he wants to and I think I want to,
but we just don't do it.

Anyway, we got to Cindy's house and did some French kissing on the
porch and I got to feel her boobs. I really want to fuck her, but we
haven't done it yet. She does everything but fucking. That puts her
ahead of Tama, but I'm kinda tired of the fact that all of my fucking
has either been with my sister or with a guy. I'm almost a junior and it
sucks I haven't gotten laid yet.

"Tama wants to go out with you again," Cindy said when she broke
off our long kiss. "She can't get anybody else to go out with her. With
her looks I'd think guys would be in line to go out with her."

"Well, that happens when you're a bitch."

"Scott, that's not nice."

"Maybe not, but it's true and you know it's true." I kissed her again
and then said, "And you're pretty fucking good looking yourself." I
kissed her one more time. "When are going to go all the way?"

"How about this summer when we got lots of time?"

"That sounds great to me." And it did sound great. I was totally happy
when I walked from her house to mine. I think this whole business
with Cindy is getting real serious, which is cool because I really like
her and I know she likes me. Plus, she likes my friends. I don't care
what Tama thinks she wants, I wouldn't go out with her again if she
was the last girl in Mayfield. Besides, Cindy is my girlfriend now.

Cindy waited for me after the next three practices. The third one was
on Friday and that was when Coach said I was starting the game
Saturday and Eric was starting the next one if we lost, since it would
be our second game of the day. I was really happy, and Cindy knew
it. What I didn't tell her is that getting the news that I was starting the
first game in Districts was almost as good as the news that I was
gonna get laid soon. Maybe it was better news, since it was closer
and seemed more real.

I know everybody thinks I gotta stay in control of myself when I pitch.
They tell me that all time. Eric is always the one in total control when
he's on the mound. I just can't be like that. At least Coach Sanders
doesn't run off at the mouth making Eric into an example, but
sometimes my teammates do and even my mom does. Rodney is
pretty cool and in control, too, but he's a junior, which I guess is
supposed to make a difference.

That's just not the way I am. I try, but sometimes I want to win so bad
I forget to slow down and do what I know I'm supposed to do. I just
want to go out there and throw, especially when things start going
bad. I know I throw hard and I love to strike guys out, but damn,
sometimes I like to strike them out too much.

Kevin gets pissed at me sometimes on the field. I mean not, like,
totally angry pissed; just he comes out and says to slow it down and
not try to strike everybody out. That helps for a while.

But sometimes everything just fits for me. I don't get mad at me or
Coach or Kevin and I slow down and think. That's when I pitch my
best games. I just can't figure out why I can't do that all the time. In
those games I'm not as in control as Eric or Rodney, or even Rich
when he come and pitches in relief. I mean I gotta have some
emotion out there, but still, I know I need to not let it control me.

Saturday was one of those games where everything fit. We played
the Beachwood Geoducks. I mean if I can't beat a team called the
Geoducks who am I gonna beat? I don't care how good they are, and
they are good, they just sound like losers. We lost to them last year,
but that was last year. This year, they're toast.

 [COACH SANDERS]

Scott had it all together in our first game in Districts. He not only
pitched seven outstanding innings, he hit a homer and a double,
driving in three runs as we won 8-2.

The win meant we had to play Lakeshore again. They were the
second team from our league to qualify for Districts. Our league was
big enough to get two representatives while two other leagues were
represented by one team. The winner of this game would be one of
the two District teams to go to Regionals. The Regionals were
actually part of the State Tournament. The state was divided into four
regions, each one getting one representative to the final four. So, if
we could win and make it to Regionals, it would give the players their
first taste of the kind of high level of competition found at the State
Tournament.

Eric started against Lakeshore on Sunday. He didn't fool a lot of their
hitters and I ended up pulling him after four innings with him behind 4-
0. It could have been worse, but he was his usual cool, calm self, and
pitched his way out of a lot of jams. He also threw a lot of pitches, so I
finished up with Vince and Rich. We lost 5-0. Their senior ace totally
shut down our offense.

That meant we had to come back Sunday afternoon and play the
winner of the Little Rock-Beachwood game that was played Saturday
evening. Little Rock won that game 7-6.  But they didn't have an
answer for Rodney, who showed everyone how good he was as we
took a 6-1 win from the Little Rock Lumberjacks. We would be playing
in Region Two next weekend, and if we won that we go to the state
finals. The Regionals were very simple: Four teams, one teams goes
on, the other three don't. The setup was lose a game and you're out.

<May 21, Regionals at Lacey Recreation Complex>

[ERIC]

I totally couldn't believe we made it to Regionals. It was us and
Lakeshore from our District. That meant two teams from our league
were in our Regional, which we all thought was pretty cool; the
regular league champion and the league tournament champion. All
we had to do was win two games without losing and would be going
to Pasco for the State A Tournament.

Noah had spent last night at my house. Scott came by after he
walked Cindy home and spent time playing games and talking
baseball until dinner. Scott ate with us and stayed a while longer after
dinner. He headed home a little bit after eight.

Noah and I chatted with my mom and dad for awhile. They were as
excited as anybody about us being in Regionals.

"Maybe your dream will take fruition a year early," dad said.

"Then we could win three championships in a row," I said with a big
burst of enthusiasm.

"While the possibility exists, since we are one of sixteen teams now at
what is considered the state tournament," Noah said, "realistically our
chances are not very good."

"They're as good as anybody else's," I said. "We all start out equal."

"I bet if we went online and looked up the other fifteen teams we
would find they are loaded with seniors and juniors."

"So, we might be young, but we're good. I mean we beat a lot of
juniors and seniors to get to where we are. Since when did you
become so negative?"

"I'm not negative, just realistic. However, there is always the `X' factor
at work."

"Which is?"

"Hard work and great attitude overcomes senior maturity. They might
be bigger and stronger and older, but I guarantee nobody works
harder than us. That is the `X' factor."

"Noah, we all truly love you," my mom said. It was one of those
moments when I knew how lucky I was to have the best boyfriend in
the world and the best mom and dad in the world. I felt blessed to be
who I was.

Noah would be one of the sophomores suiting up tomorrow. State
tournament rules allowed for only fifteen players to be in uniform and
in the dugout, so it was an honor to be one of them. I wasn't one of
the floaters, I was a regular. Danny was the other floater to suit up.

We figured Danny was picked for his bat and Noah for his glove and
his ability to move runners up with his bunting skills. But, Coach had
rotated the sophomores during the postseason. Hunter and Lars had
been the floating sophs on the roster for Districts while Gavin and
Carl suited up for the league tournament. We couldn't help but
wonder who Coach would pick if we made it to Pasco.

That night Noah and I didn't have sex, but we did meditate. We sat
naked on the floor facing each other and tried to empty our minds and
concentrate on what we needed to do tomorrow. We touched our
heads, our hands touched our shoulders, and for a short time I found
myself totally blocking out all of the world but my own thoughts. Trust
me, it was a very short time, but it was cool when it happened. Noah
could do this much longer than I could, but he's been to Montana
three times with his family and worked with an Indian who taught him
things about meditating. Also, Noah has always been interested in
meditation, going back to sixth grade.

You have to understand that Noah is a special person and is way
different from most kids. The thing that makes Noah so great is that
he is super smart. He understands people better than most adults,
too. And he has interests other kids wouldn't think of having. Yet he is
so friendly and open that everybody loves him. There is nothing stuck
up or phony about Noah, even when he uses big words nobody ever
heard of before. Noah makes everybody feel special, and me being
his best friend, his boyfriend, makes me feel beyond special.

We both slept soundly. Mom fed us a great pregame pancake
breakfast and dad drove us to the high school to catch the bus for
Lacey. The trip would take a little over an hour-and-half and the bus
was scheduled to leave at ten-thirty.

Coach Sanders read us the starting lineup before we left the school.

Jerome-center field
Eric (that would be me)-second base
Rich-shortstop
Marty-third base
Scott-first base
Vince-designated hitter for Rodney, the pitcher.
Connor-left field
Kevin-catcher
Kraig-right field

We were playing the North Peninsula Thunderbirds, a team that lost
only three games. They started eight seniors and a junior against us.
Their coach didn't use a designated hitter.

The game started right on time at one. We won the coin flip and
picked being the home team. Rodney looked sharp, pitching a 1-2-3
first inning. Their pitcher was a big senior, and he looked like he had
filthy stuff. He threw harder than Rodney or Scott and he had really
good control. Jerome struck out to start the first for us and I flew out
to right field on a 1-2 count after swinging and missing twice. At the
end of the first inning there was no doubt that this was going to be a
tough game.

Nobody got a run until the third inning when the Thunderbirds scored
a run on two hits and a walk. We evened the score in the bottom of
the inning when I singled in Kraig from second base. We took the
lead in the bottom of the fourth when Crawford, who had pinch-hit for
Connor, singled and then scored on Kraig's double. Kraig might be
hitting ninth for us, but he was a decent hitter. Everybody liked to tell
us we might be a young team, but we were also a very deep and
talented team.

We had a 2-1 lead going into the fifth when things started to go bad.
The leadoff batter for the T-Birds smashed a hard shot up the middle
which Rodney tried to grab with his bare hand. That move is not real
smart. The ball deflected off of his hand. He had to come out of the
game which meant Coach Sanders had to come up with a pitcher.

Rich and I were standing together on the field while the coaches
looked at Rodney's hand. We figured Coach would use either me or
Scott, with the other guy starting tomorrow's game if we won. I told
Rich that coach might even pick him, move me to short, and put Noah
in at second like he would if Rich pitched at the end of a game.

Coach decided to go with me. Because Rodney had come out hurt, I
got all the time I needed to warm up. I hadn't pitched in relief since
the first week of the season when Coach was giving all of his pitchers
some work. Kevin told me not to rush and to make sure I was truly
warm and ready. Noah went into the game for Rodney and would
play second in my place.

I'd love to say I came in and was the hero and saved the day, but that
isn't what happened. I didn't pitch badly, but I didn't pitch great. They
were big, experienced hitters, better than most in our league. The
Thunderbirds were a really good team, and they showed it. I was able
to get ahead of a hitter in the count, but I just couldn't come up with
the pitch to put him away. They got three hits off of me that inning.

A dropped fly ball by Kraig in left field didn't help. It wasn't on a
routine play since he had to attempt the catch on the run, but it was
still a ball he should have caught, and he knew it. The Thunderbirds
ended up scoring three runs that inning and we were now behind 4-2.
That was all they scored off of me, but it was enough. We scored a
run in the sixth when Scott singled, Vince walked, and Connor
doubled in Scott. The Thunderbirds went down 1-2-3 in the seventh.
They brought in their closer and he took care of us 1-2-3 in the
bottom of the inning.

That was the end of the school season for the Mustangs. There
would be no trip to Pasco and the State finals for us this year. It
would have to wait for next year. We had come a long way for a
young team, all the way to the State Regionals. We were proud of
what we did.

But baseball wasn't over for us. It was time to concentrate on summer
ball and the Mayfield Falcons.

Next: Summer Ball—The Biggest Little City