Free The Fenway Foul-Up by David A. Kelly Page A

other souvenirs for Big D.
    Big D started signing autographs. A photographer trailed behind him, taking pictures. He carried a long black tripod case slung over his shoulder and a camera with a big lens.
    “I knew we should have waited overthere,” Mike said. “We could have gotten Big D’s autograph.”

    “Maybe next time,” Kate said. “It’s cool that he’s signing so many.”
    While Big D greeted the fans, Wally, the Red Sox’s big furry green mascot, came trotting down the first-base line toward home plate. He waved to the people near the dugout, but then he tripped and sprawled face-first on the grass.
    The crowd roared with laughter while Wally wriggled on the ground. Big D and a batboy ran over to help Wally up. Wally took a small bow and gave the crowd a big wave—without falling over.
    Big D patted Wally on the back and ducked into the dugout.
    One Red Sox player after another practiced hitting. But Mike and Kate could tell that no one was as good as Big D. Soon, Boston finished batting practice. A batboy and batgirl came out to collect the bats.
    “I’d love that job,” said Mike. “You’d get tomeet all the players, watch the games, and get paid for it!”
    The Oakland A’s took the field for their batting practice.
    “Come on,” said Kate. “I told my mom we’d stop by the pressroom before the game starts. She’s going to give us some money for lunch.”
    Kate and Mike found their way through the hallways lined with hot dog, ice cream, and peanut stands. They rode an elevator up to the fourth floor. After showing a security guard their passes, they entered the pressroom. The room had huge open windows facing the infield.
    “Hi, kids,” Mrs. Hopkins said. She was sitting at a desk in front of a window. A few reporters sat on either side of her, working on computers or talking.
    Mike went straight to the windows. “Wow! What a view,” he said. “You can see everything from here. It’s like you’re on top of the field!”
    “It
is
pretty amazing,” said Mrs. Hopkins. “Sometimes foul balls get hit up here, so you have to pay attention.”
    Just then, a telephone rang. Kate’s mother reached for it. But the reporter next to her answered it. He talked for a minute or so, and then hung up.
    “You’ll never believe what just happened,” he said.
    “What?” Mrs. Hopkins asked.
    “Big D’s lucky bat has been stolen!”

The Batboy
    “Stolen?” Mike asked.
    “Yes,” the reporter said. “It’s been his favorite bat ever since he hit his four hundredth home run with it.”
    “But we saw him with it just a little while ago,” Kate said.
    “The security chief thinks someone took it after Red Sox batting practice,” said the reporter. “Big D was doing a TV interview in the locker room. Usually the batboy or batgirlpicks up the bats after practice. But they couldn’t find Big D’s.”
    “It’s probably worth a million dollars,” said Mike.
    The reporter laughed. “Maybe not a million,” he said. “But I’m sure a private collector would pay an awful lot for it.”
    A loud
CRACK
ripped through the ballpark. One of the players had hit a line drive. The ball flew straight into center field.
    Mike turned to watch where it landed. A flash of blue caught his eye. “Hey, the police are down near the Boston dugout. Looks like they’re questioning that batboy,” he said. “I bet
he
stole the bat.”
    The batboy was talking to two people dressed in blue. Mike could make out the word SECURITY on the back of their shirts.
    “Oh, that’s just Bobby the batboy. He’s anice kid,” the reporter said. “I doubt he stole Big D’s bat.”

    “The ballpark security people are probably just interviewing witnesses,” Kate’s momadded. “I’m sure they’ll also check equipment bags and lockers for the bat.”
    “I saw that batboy with all the bats earlier,” Mike said. “He seems kinda suspicious to me.”
    “You think everyone’s suspicious, Mike,” said Kate. “But I