Free Alive on Opening Day by Adam Hughes Page A

“Gabbie?”
     
    Dan blushed and lowered
his head. He wasn’t quite ready for that conversation, so he said,
“Well, yeah, but I mean which young third baseman I
like.”
     
    David started to say
something, but Dan wanted to keep control of the conversation for
the moment and continued on, “Ron Cey.”
     
    “ Mmmm,” David pondered.
“Yeah, I do think Cey is pretty good. His glove is solid — all the
Dodgers are great in the field — and he looks like he has some pop
in his bat. Hard to tell for sure in Dodger Stadium, though. He
does strike out a lot.”
     
    “ True,” Dan said. “And his
batting average is pretty bad, but he’s still young. I think he’s
going to be really good.”
     
    “ What about Mike Schmidt?”
David asked. “You think he’ll be any good?”
     
    “ Maybe,” Dan said. “His
power seems even better than Cey’s but he strikes out a TON. He
might strike out 200 times one of these seasons if he plays every
day! How did those guys end up doing last year, anyway?”
     
    David racked his memory,
then answered, “I think Cey hit about 12 or 13 home runs, but his
batting average was under .250. Schmidt was close to 20 homers, but
I don’t know if he even made it to .200 .”
     
    “ Ouch!” Dan said. “Well,
they have a lot of work to do, but the Phillies are pretty bad
anyway, right?”
     
    “ Terrible,” David
agreed.
     
    “ Then Schmidt at least
probably doesn’t need to worry about his job.”
     
    “ Probably not.”
     
    The two men were quiet for
a couple of minutes, and then David eased into one of the subjects
hanging in the air between them. “Say, Dan, do YOU ever think about
getting back on the field?”
     
    Dan knew the topic of his
baseball career would come up, but the reminder of the season he
had lost stung, and his eyes watered. He looked out the side
window, not able to face his father.
     
    “ Geez, I don’t know, Dad.
I don’t think so. I mean, I’m not in school anymore, so I don’t
have any place to play, really.”
     
    “ Well, it’s not the level
of competition you’re used to, but a few of the local companies are
trying to start up a league this spring. You could be HBM’s
ringer,” David said, smiling at his son.
     
    “ I don’t know, Dad.” Dan
was hesitant. “Is it baseball … or is it softball? And is it
co-ed?”
     
    “ We haven’t worked out all
the details yet, but I don’t know of any women who are interested
at this point,” David answered. “We’ve been talking about softball,
but we might be able to persuade the other companies to go for
hardball if we talk to the right people.”
     
    Dan still wasn’t
convinced, but he could feel excitement building in his chest.
“Where would we play, though?”
     
    “ The mayor has been part
of these meetings, and he’s pretty good friends with Principal
Skine at Rosedale. We think we can play on their diamonds if
nothing else comes up. And, if Rosedale does agree, then that might
be enough to get Ferncastle to agree,” David said. “But so far,
Donald Stetson hasn’t returned our calls on the
subject.”
     
    “ I guess Rosedale isn’t
all that far,” Dan said. It felt like a “yes” to father and son,
and they fell into silence for another few minutes.
     
    “ You know, Dan,” David
said as they crossed the Ohio River, “American Legion ball starts
in the summer, too. That’s probably more your speed, if we’re being
honest.”
     
    “ No way, Dad,” Dan said
and shook his head. “I haven’t swung a bat in nine months, I’ve
lost a bunch of weight, and my legs get tired just walking across
the parking lot at work. Those guys would chew me up — I couldn’t
even make the team in this condition.”
     
    “ You have two months to
get your stamina back, Dan, and I know your swing will come back
after a few sessions in the batting cage,” David assured him. “And
guess who the coach is this year.”
     
    “ I don’t know, Tommy
Lasorda?” Dan