Free Baseball Great by Tim Green Page B

them,” Benji said, chewing as he spoke so it came out half garbled.
    Without another word, Benji turned and walked back into the lunchroom. Josh hung his head and made his way toward seventh-period English class.
    To make matters worse, his English teacher called on him twice and his social studies teacher three times. He had no idea what to say any of the times. He lost interest in his lessons and could only think about one thing: making the Titans. The half of him that had wanted to return to his friends now knew that he had no friends. The best thing that could happen to Josh would be to make the Mount Olympus Titans and travel the country, honing his skills and letting the world see that no matter what else, he would be a baseball great.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
    THE LAST BELL FINALLY rang, and Josh sprinted for the school’s main entrance. Outside, clouds surged overhead, and the warm breeze smelled of spring rain. His father waited, as usual, just beyond the buses. After Josh climbed into the car and slammed the door, he slumped down in the seat and stared straight ahead. His father said nothing and put the car into gear, driving off toward the Mount Olympus Sports Complex.
    After a time his father said, “Would you really want me to force you onto this team? Have them keep you because I’m your dad?”
    Josh kept his lips rolled tight against his teeth.
    â€œTell me,” his father said. “I doubt Rocky will do it, but I can sure try. If it means that much to you, Josh, I’ll do it.”
    Josh let his face relax. He sighed deeply and shook his head.
    â€œNo,” he said, then let silence have its way again.
    â€œBecause—” his dad began to say.
    â€œDad, did you recruit Kerry Eschelman away from the school team?” Josh said, blurting out the question.
    His father glanced at him and nodded his head. “Of course I did. I told you Rocky had me working on putting a team together. I got Silven from Liverpool and Macauly from Solvay, too. Supposedly the three best twelve-year-old pitchers in the city. Why?”
    â€œYou ruined the Grant team,” Josh said, his eyes on the road straight ahead.
    â€œWhat about Eschelman?” his father asked. “You think about him? His talent? He could be a college player with the right development.”
    â€œWeight lifting and Super Stax?” Josh asked.
    â€œIn a couple years, if he’s still there. When the time is right,” his father said. “I told you—you’re different. You’re way more advanced.”
    â€œWell, we’ll see if I am, right?” Josh said, looking over at his father. “And if I’m not, I’m going to play Titans U12.”
    â€œAnd they’d be damn lucky to have you, Josh,” his father said.
    â€œâ€™Cause I can’t play with the school team anymore.”
    â€œYou think Coach Miller knows a bat from a bunt?”his dad said.
    Josh clamped his mouth shut and looked out the window.
    â€œLooks like rain,” Josh said.
    â€œAnother good thing about practicing in the bubble,” his dad said as they pulled into the circle. “You see that limo?”
    Josh looked at the Cadillac stretch limo, so clean it reflected the trees and the cloudy sky above.
    â€œWhat’s that?” Josh asked.
    â€œSponsors,” his father said. “From Nike.”
    â€œNike sneakers?” Josh asked.
    â€œAnd cleats, and sportswear,” his father said. “They’re breaking into baseball equipment—gloves, balls, maybe even bats. They’re sponsoring five travel teams across the country at every level. Rocky’s signing the contract with them today. If I get this U12 thing put together and looking good, he says we might get them to do that deal, too.”
    â€œWhat kind of deal?” Josh asked.
    â€œThey pay Rocky a hundred and twenty thousand dollars a year to manage it, plus the team’s expenses, coaches,