Authors: Matt Christopher
All-Star Fever
To Nicholas Lee and Kyle Lee Christopher
Text copyright © 1995 by Matt Christopher Royalties, Inc.
Illustrations copyright © 1995 by Anna Dewdney
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced,
distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written
permission of the publisher.
Little, Brown and Company
Hachette Book Group
237 Park Avenue
New York, NY 10017
Visit our website at
www.HachetteBookGroup.com
First eBook Edition: December 2009
Matt Christopher™ is a trademark of Matt Christopher Royalties, Inc.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious.
Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental
and not intended by the author.
ISBN: 978-0-316-09482-5
Contents
“Steee-rike!” boomed the umpire.
Bus Mercer took the call without batting an eye. After all, the first two pitches Bucky Neal had thrown had been balls. The
Green Dragons’ pitcher had already walked one man this inning, the fourth in the game. There was only one out. Bus figured
he could afford to take a strike call.
The next pitch was another ball. Bus relaxed, feeling sure that Bucky would walk him, too.
Then Bucky breezed in a belt-high pitch that caught Bus off guard.
“Steee-rike!”
Bus stepped quickly out of the box. As he ran his hands up and down the aluminum bat, he glanced over at the stands. Sitting
somewhere in that crowd of Peach Street Mudders fans were scouts for the county All-Star team. Bus knew they were watching
every player who came to bat, every player who fielded a ball. The best ones would be chosen to play in the All-Star game
coming up in two weeks. It was a game every kid in the league would give his right arm for. Well, almost.
Bus knew he had to make this next pitch count if he was going to stand a chance of making that special team.
“Belt it, Bus!” Rudy Calhoun yelled from the on-deck circle.
Bus stepped back into the box. He swung hard at the next pitch. A high-hopping
grounder toward short! Dropping the bat, he beat it for first base. But the shortstop fielded the ball and winged it to the
first baseman in plenty of time.
Drat!
Bus thought sourly.
I really needed that hit! Instead, I just made a stupid out.
Then he remembered Coach Parker’s warning before the game.
“Those scouts will be watching this team for three games. So if you miss out on one play in one game, don’t dwell on it. Just
make a mental note to try a bit harder next time, then put the play out of your head. Nothing hurts a player’s concentration
more than worrying about something that can’t be changed. A good attitude is as important as a good play — and those scouts
will be looking for both.”
So Bus tried to shake off his disappointment by joining the bench in cheering on the next batter.
But Rudy Calhoun, the Peach Street Mudders’ catcher, struck out on four pitches to end the fourth inning.
“C’mon you guys! Let’s stop ‘em again!” Coach Parker yelled, clapping his hands as the Mudders took to the field for the beginning
of the fifth inning.
The Mudders looked neat in their white, blue-trimmed uniforms, a sharp contrast to the green, white-trimmed uniforms the Dragons
wore.
Bus got into his position, covering the hole between second and third, and joined in the infield chatter. “C’mon Sparrow!
Get ‘em outta there! Make it one, two, three!”
Smack!
A streaking grass-cutter shot past Sparrow’s legs for a single.
But that was the only hit the Dragons got that inning. A fly-out, a ground-out, and a strikeout ended their turn at bat.
“Okay, Sparrow,” Bus called as the pitcher tossed off his glove and picked up a bat.
“We’ve got to get onto that scoreboard to win this one! Show ‘em you can hit as well as you pitch!”
Sparrow did. He laced a line drive over second base for a single. The bench stood up and joined the Mudders fans in a loud
cheer.
Then Barry McGee doubled, advancing Sparrow to third. But Turtleneck Jones and José Méndez both popped out. It looked like
Sparrow and Barry might die on base. With two outs and the game still scoreless, T.V. Adams stepped to the plate. Bus held
his breath as the ball left Bucky Neal’s hand.
T.V. came through with flying colors. He belted a sky-reaching fly ball to deep left field that went for a triple. Both Sparrow
and Barry made it home. The score was now Mudders 2, Dragons 0.
Nicky Chong flied out to end the inning.
As Bus jogged onto the field, he half hoped the Dragons would get some hits this inning. He wanted the Mudders to win the
game,
but he wanted to show the All-Star scouts what he could do in the field, too. And if the Dragons scored enough runs to tie
the game, the Mudders would come to bat in the bottom of the sixth inning. Then Bus would get another chance to bat.
Bus grit his teeth.
I’m ready,
he thought with determination.
The Dragons came to the plate looking ready to spit fire. It was the top of the sixth and final inning, their last chance
to score.
And score they did. A sizzling single between first and second was followed by a high-flying homer over José Mendez’s glove.
The score now read Mudders 2, Dragons 2.
Bus pounded his fist into his glove.
C’mon, hit it to me!
he thought.
Beans Malone did just that. He drilled a hot, grass-hugging grounder directly at Bus.
Bus saw the ball moving toward him like the head of a snake. Never had a ball come at him so fast.
He put his glove down between his legs. But to his horror, the ball zipped right through and continued on into the outfield!
Bus scrambled to recover it, but it was too late. Beans Malone stood grinning on second base. Bus had blown his chance to
impress the All-Star scouts again.
Fortunately the Dragons’ next three batters got out one, two, three. The score remained tied at two runs apiece.
Bus was the second batter up for the Mudders. He selected his bat and walked to the on-deck circle. Barry McGee sidled up
beside him.
“You should’ve had that grounder,” he said. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you to keep your tailgate down? Way down?”
“Cut it, Barry,” T.V. Adams said. “That
was a hard-hit ball. If Bus
had
stopped it, it would have carried him to the outfield!”
Thanks, T.V.,
Bus wanted to say. He thought about the coach’s warning again, but it was hard to shrug off Barry’s hurtful words.
Alfie had made it to first. Bus took a few practice swings and stepped into the box.
I’ve got to try to hit him home!
he thought.
Then he saw Coach Parker signaling him to bunt.
No!
Bus wanted to scream.
The first two pitches were wild. The third pitch came in at chest level, Bus’s favorite kind. He didn’t think. He just swung
as hard as he could.
Crack!
A line drive right at the pitcher! Bus dropped the bat and ran as hard as he could to first. But the pitcher had fielded the
ball and thrown it to second in time to get Alfie
out. Then, like a well-oiled machine, the Dragons’ second baseman threw to first.
Bus just wasn’t fast enough to beat that throw. In a booming voice, the umpire called him out. He had caused a double play!
The coach called him over. “Bus, a good bunt could have advanced Alfie safely to second even though it might have gotten you
out. Next time, follow my signal.”
Bus hung his head and nodded. The dugout was silent as he took his seat among his teammates.
Bus felt sick. He tried to cheer when first Rudy, then Sparrow got on base. He tried to join in the excitement when Barry
hit a home run to change the final score to Mudders 5, Dragons 2. But he just couldn’t. All he could think about was how he
had probably ruined his chances to make the All-Star team.
