Free The Batboy by Mike Lupica Page B

me?”
    “Little bit,” he said. He shook his head. “I can’t figure that guy anymore. He used to love every part of this game when he was a rookie. Almost like he was a batboy.”
    “Maybe he just forgot how,” Brian said.
    Mr. S. said, “I keep thinking the kid I used to know must still be inside him somewhere, but I’ll be doggoned if I’ve been able to find him.”
    Then he held up the pair of shoes Brian hadn’t noticed him holding in his hands, shoes looking scuffed and dirty, and said, “Somebody forgot to make Willie’s kicks look pretty,” and handed them to Brian. “Maybe a task like that will wipe that goofy grin off your face.”
    “Nah,” Brian said.

    It was as if both teams had forgotten to set their alarms for baseball today, and everybody was sleepwalking through the early innings of the game.
    The Tigers scored three unearned runs in the second thanks to a booted ground ball and a throw practically into the stands, it was so far over the first baseman’s head. The Rangers came back with four of their own, all of those unearned, in the top of the fourth when Marty McBain, with two outs, just flat missed a routine fly ball. No sun to speak of, no wind. He just lost concentration and closed his glove too early and the ball popped out. It was the kind of mistake even Brian didn’t make when he was playing left field for the Sting at Kenning Park. The Rangers followed with five straight base hits and it was 4-3.
    The Tigers got the lead back an inning later when the Rangers’ pitcher walked four straight guys with nobody out and then allowed a sacrifice fly to bring in another run before Hank helped him out by grounding into a double play.
    But then the Rangers’ cleanup man hit a two-run homer to put them back on top, and that’s when the game—and the players—finally settled down. Bottom of the eighth inning, Rangers 7, Tigers 6. One out, runners on second and third.
    Hank Bishop up to bat.
    A base hit would put the Tigers back ahead, a fly ball would tie the game. There wasn’t much of a crowd for the afternoon game, but the people who were in attendance pumped up the volume now for Hank, who used to make his living in late-inning situations like this.
    On the first pitch to him Joe Apuzzo, the Rangers’ All-Star setup man, busted a cut fastball in on Hank’s hands and broke his bat. Brian watched it happen, half the bat flying toward third base, and couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Not because he hadn’t seen anybody break a bat before, but because it was the fourth bat Hank had broken today, which in Brian’s time as Tigers’ batboy was more than any player had broken in a single game.
    Hank usually had two of his bats in the dugout and three more in the rolling bat rack in the hallway. Then he had his complete stash, a dozen more, boxed in Equipment Room No. 3, where all the Tigers had their extra bats, ones he hadn’t tried out in batting practice or a game yet.
    So Brian knew something Hank probably didn’t, that he was down to his last good game bat.
    He wanted to watch this at-bat, especially if Hank did something great here. But he couldn’t take the chance, not with Joe Apuzzo being famous for breaking bats on right-handed hitters with that cutter of his knifing in on them when he had it working.
    As if on cue, before Brian was down the dugout steps, Joe Apuzzo put another cutter on the inside corner and Hank made a defensive swing, fouling it off.
    Brian heard the sound and winced. Hank’s fifth broken bat of the game.
    Now Brian was on the dead run, knowing he was already in trouble. Hank was going to be expecting him to be walking toward him with a new bat.
    Brian could have stopped at No. 3, but he decided to run back to the clubhouse instead, taking the steps three at a time, having remembered the extra bats he’d seen in Hank’s locker before the game. They were still there, underneath the picture of Hank’s daughter. He grabbed one now, feeling like