The Adventures of Frankie – 4 – Batter Up

"Dad, can you take me to the batting cage?"

"Again? Frankie, that's the third time this week."

"Yeah, I know, but next week we start softball in gym class. I gotta be ready!"

Last spring, Frankie was a pint-sized player and Rita the Red Head's brother, Brad the Bully, didn't let him forget it. He was always the pitcher and thought he was hot stuff. Whenever Frankie came up to bat he'd call the outfielders in close and make some smart comment. Frankie would inevitably strike out or would be thrown out long before making it to first base.

That jerk's gotta big surprise coming to him this spring, he smirked as he let loose on the incoming hardball. Push-ups, sit-ups, pull-ups, all kinds of ups, Frankie was ready. "Whack!" Frankie held his hand up to his brow as if watching the ball whiz off into the imaginary bleachers.

"Alright slugger, time to head home."

Up to this point, Frankie was afraid to try out for Little League, but this year was another story. He was ready to show off his new skills in gym class on Monday, then the following weekend in tryouts. The coach would have to take him! Nobody, not even Scrawny Ronnie knew he’ been practicing. He and his dad played catch behind the house every night after dinner until it got too dark. He even got a brand new glove.

* * *

So Monday morning arrived. Brad the Bully did his typical snarle at Frankie as he got on the bus. Frankie slammed a fist into his glove, glaring back as he pretended he was standing at home plate with the bat in hand, staring down that evil pitcher.

Second period, dew still over the field and Mighty Frankie at the bat. Brad tossed the ball in the air a few times, catching it with his bare hand, then let out a snicker before turning to the outfielders to wave them in close. The first pitch, high and outside, Frankie didn’t even flinch. The catcher, another of the bully’s mates, asked if he needed his mommy to wipe his nose, then the ball slapped the pocket of the bully’s glove. The wind-up was wild as was the pitch. Even before the pitcher’s foot touched the ground the batter knew to lean back.

“High and inside”, the gym teacher barked.

The catcher commented, “If you were old enough to shave ... oh well, guess not.”

The gym teacher adjusted his umpire’s mask as he reminded the bully’s that this was supposed to be a friendly game.

Ball three was low and inside, but still left a puff of dirt from the catcher’s mitt. Count three-zero, Frankie was not about to walk. The fourth pitch came in level and fast, in his eye the ball lined up exactly with the bully’s head. The perfect image. He sent that make-believe head over the tops of the second baseman and centerfielder, leaving everyone with their eyes pointed to the sky as he raced around first base, over the top of second and bounced to a stop on third!

“Shoe’s untied,” the third baseman, another of the bully’s minions, tried distracting Frankie.

Scrawny Ronnie bounced one down the third base line. Frankie was stuck, but now they had two on with no outs. The new kid sent one down the right side, hitting the ground once before the first baseman snagged it and tagged him out. But as soon as the ball hit the ground Frankie was off like a shot. With the ball thumping the catcher’s glove, he skidded to a stop and headed back for the safety of third base. Trapped in a rundown, he could already feel the humiliation of a double play. Back towards home again he tripped on his shoe lace. The catcher looked to see why everyone was laughing and the ball nailed him in the chest. Frankie scrambled to his feet and dove for the plate. "SAFE," he imagined hearing his proud father’s voice boom from the stands!

Next time up to bat Frankie stood with the confidence of a major leaguer! He accepted the first pitch and blast it right back at the pitcher, catching him off guard and leaving him with a fat lip. Frankie stood proud and safe on first base knowing full well that try outs that coming weekend would go well.

Walking back to the locker room with all of his new friends he wondered, what did Brad the Bully have in store for him on the bus that afternoon?

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