Free The Contract by Derek Jeter, Paul Mantell Page A

his best fastball. The hitter swung, and lofted a pop-up just to Derek’s right.
    â€œI got it! I got it!” he yelled.
    He heard Pete saying “I got it!” too. Derek knew the ball was to the right of the bag, and so should have been the second baseman’s ball. But Derek also knew it was the shortstop’s call, as captain of the infield. So he backed off, saying, “Take it! Take it!”
    And Pete did—with both hands, just to make sure. The game ended with the Tigers up, 7–6.
    As happy as Derek was that they’d managed to save the victory, he was annoyed by the way the whole team mobbed Pete—their hero—forgetting that Pete was the one who’d committed two key errors that had almost cost them the game.
    Pete was loving it, doing a little victory dance until his dad lined them all up for the traditional postgame handshake with the opposing team.
    Oh well , thought Derek. At least there won’t be any tantrums this week.
    â€¢ • •
    Because he’d gone straight from school to the game, it was only afterward that Derek remembered the math test and his embarrassing grade on it.
    He’d mentioned the test to his parents beforehand, and he knew they never forgot anything he told them, especially about schoolwork. So it was clearly just a matter of time before one of them asked him how it had gone.
    â€œSo, how’d it go today?” His mom was setting a casserole down in the center of the table before sitting down herself.
    â€œWe won,” Derek said innocently, but he knew what she meant.
    â€œThe math test,” she said. “How’d you do?”
    Well, that didn’t take long , Derek thought. He sighed and shook his head. “Not too well.”
    â€œReally?” His father stopped cutting the casserole into squares and looked up at him. “Not too well, as in . . .”
    â€œAs in eighty-four.” Derek sighed again.
    â€œWhat?” It came from both his parents at the same time. While 84 might have been an okay grade, or even a good one, for some kids, it wasn’t for Derek. Math had always been his best subject in school, right from the beginning.
    â€œUh-oh,” said Sharlee, covering her head and grimacing. If she’d thought it would make the rest of them laugh, she’d been mistaken.
    â€œWhy do you think you didn’t do better?” his mom asked.
    Derek shrugged. “She gave us the assignment a week before, but I guess I forgot about it until she reminded us. That was the day before the test, and I couldn’t concentrate that night.”
    â€œBecause you were too worried about baseball.” His dad said it like it was a fact, not a question.
    â€œI guess,” Derek admitted. “But I couldn’t help it! Little League was about to start, and I was worried—”
    â€œWe know all about it,” his dad said. “But—”
    â€œI know, I know,” Derek said, hoping to avoid any more criticism. “Rule number two.”
    â€œDerek,” said his mom, putting a hand on his arm, “there’s no excuse. You always have to work your hardest if you want to achieve your dream.”
    â€œI know, Mom,” Derek said, “but sports is my dream!”
    â€œI know,” said Mrs. Jeter. “But you can’t do it at the expense of schoolwork.”
    â€œDoing well in school is the ticket that gets you into the ballpark, and into the game!” his dad added. “Where would I be today if I hadn’t gotten that college scholarship?”
    â€œYou got a baseball scholarship, Dad,” Derek pointed out.
    â€œBut I needed good grades to get it!” Mr. Jeter insisted. “And I had to keep up my good grades all through college to keep getting my scholarship money!”
    â€œDon’t you see, old man?” his mom said. “You can’t let yourself get distracted. It’s not one thing or the other. You’ve