Wild Pitch by Matt Christopher

last time
     he had seen her.
    “You know it’s almost over.”
    “Yes, I know.”
    “What’re we going to do? I mean, we’re not going to quit seeing each other, are we?”
    “Of course not! Chances are we’ll be playing against each other again next year. And maybe we can get together a few times
     before then. Okay?”
    She nodded, and smiled. “You’ve been great to me. I just wanted to know where we stood.”
    He grinned.
    “Wait’ll we face each other in a ball game,” he said.
    Her eyes twinkled. She draped the towel over her shoulders.
    “Would you try to strike me out?” she asked.
    He laughed. “You’re darn right I would. You think I’d let you try to knock the ball out of the lot on me? No way!”
    They laughed together. He wrapped the towel around his hips and they hurried home.
    The game was ready to start when he got there. The stands were packed. A chorus of cheers went up from the fans as he ran
     in from the gate to the Lancers’ dugout.
    “Well, look who’s here,” Puffy declared. “Who said he’d forgotten us?”
    Coach Inger tossed him a ball. “Warm up, Eddie. I’ll have Harry go the first two innings and put you in the last five.”
    He warmed up, throwing in the bullpen to Pete Turner, whose poor hitting kept his playing to a minimum. Coach Inger had a
     rule to play all of his men in every game, but not more than two or three innings if they weren’t playing to his satisfaction.
    The Lancers had first bats, and Eddie took a glance toward the field now and then to see how the guys were making out. Rod
     Bellow was the only one who got on, driving a single through the pitcher’s box. Hedied there on first, though, as both Dale and Lynn flied out to the outfield.
    Harry walked the first Bruin, but a double play and Puffy’s neat catch of a line drive kept them from scoring.
    Paul led off the action in the second inning with a single through the pitcher’s box, then advanced to second base on Tip’s
     sacrifice bunt.
    “Keep it moving! Keep it moving!” Tony Netro kept shouting from the first-base coaching box. Eddie figured that Tony’d be
     playing the last few innings of the game, since Tom Hooker was starting at right field.
    Tom clobbered a single over short, driving in Paul for the Lancers’ first run, and Eddie felt a small sense of security. Even
     a one-run lead was better than no lead at all.
    He waited for Puffy to bat before throwing again to Pete.
    “Lay it out of the lot, Puff!” he yelled. The more runs now, the better.
    Puffy connected with a double down the third-base line, driving Tom around the bases as if a swarm of bees were after him.
     The play at home was close. Harry, standing by, yelled for Tom to hit the dirt, and Tom did, sliding across the plate under
     the throw and the catcher’s delayed tag.
    “Safe!” the ump boomed.
    Eddie, turning to continue his throws to Pete, smiled. He hoped the guys would keep up their hitting while he was on the mound.
     He’d probably need it.
    He didn’t watch Harry bat, but when he heard a yell he looked toward the diamond and saw a cloud of dust around third base,
     and the base umpire crouched over a prostrate Puffy Garfield, thumb sticking up into the air. Apparently Puffy had tried to
     steal and failed.
    “The jerk,” Pete said. “Why’d he run? He was in position to score.”
    Eddie shrugged. “Don’t ask me. Ask Mr. Inger.”
    “I think he’s bawling Puffy out,” said Pete, glancing toward the field.
    Eddie looked there and saw the coach hovering over Puffy, gesturing with his left hand in the direction of second base.
    Eddie smiled. “I guess it was Puffy’s idea to steal,” he reflected. “Not Mr. Inger’s.”
    The Bruins picked up a run at their turn at bat, but the Lancers got it back in the top of the third with a double off Dale’s
     bat and a triple off Lynn’s. Lancers 3, Bruins 1.
    “Okay, Eddie, get in there,” said Coach Inger. “How’s his control,