Stranded on Second

You can feel the tension of a little league playoff game a mile away – dads pacing, coaches biting their tongues, moms asking questions, grandparents beating their chest at every passed ball. Pure theater.  I don’t remember this from my days as a 10-year-old shortstop on the little league Lions. Maybe that’s because I was so immersed in flipping the Italian ice to get to the grape syrupy stuff on the bottom that I didn’t notice the stress around me.

Dad was doing the scorebook June 14th for our playoff game this year; it got so tense at one point he lost his footing in the top bleacher after an error disoriented him. It was a light moment in what was playing out as a drama. Each pitch seemed to pull in more roadside passers-by like a magnet. Skies were graying at the dirt track as the clock turned to 7, on a night in which the 8-11 year-olds all had homework, no dinner, and nothing more on the line than their season. The early swings and misses in Act 1 gave way to heightened tension as the game went to the top of the sixth with the score tied at 3. After 2 Ks with the go-ahead run on third, Arnie threw a wild pitch at 3-1 and scampered home; he was running like a grand piano was on his back so the runner’s slide beat the catcher’s throw. But this is little league and kids have little feet and this runner’s foot landed 6 inches short of home plate. So, Arnie tagged the runner and the ump, with a bit of a “I can’t believe I have to do this grin,” called the poor kid out….which of course led to this explosive roar from the third base side (one of those slow motion type roars you see in movies)…on the first base side, our side, sheer exulation.

In the bottom of the sixth Arnie struck out on six pitches to start the inning and before Dad could adjust the scorebook, the other team had got us out 1-2-3. To extra innings we went. And that’s actually when the real stage was set.

* * *

In the bottom of the eighth inning, with 2 outs and 2 strikes, Oscar came to bat as a last hope, looking part Roy Hobbs part Kirk Gibson, with a hobbled leg and partially fractured arm, tears still streaming from his face from the pain suffered two innings earlier at getting beaned by a very tall kid who we’re pretty sure drove to the game. “I want to bat” the 10-year-old Oscar, originally from the Domincan Republic, told us…..

He insisted on hitting and frankly we never wanted to pull him. For that moment, one of the bigger kids on the team was just being a kid – he just wanted to hit. The script was building. With his teammate Emmanuel on 2nd, Oscar represented the tying run and in his hands he held all the desperation of 30 some parents. The coaches were for the first time somewhat relaxed – realizing that these kids had done all they could. Our batters that followed had struggled all night so in many ways young Oscar represented the team’s final chance, a slim one. His older cousin, our hitting coach, turned on the video camera and quietly smiling said, “You’re about to watch history.” I’m pretty sure Oscar could feel everyone’s energy. After 2 strikes and some wild pitches Emmanuel advanced and ultimately scored, cutting the score to 5-4. Oscar then knocked a gritty single to right, barely clearing the first baseman’s mitt. He was basically doing a fast walk to first on that hobbled foot….it was like watching a French Open tennis match as we all tried to will Oscar to the bag, then shifted our eyes to the right fielder who had begun his throw to first.

Oscar touched the bag just as the ball arrived on what appeared to be a tie-to-the-runner scenario, but the ball sputtered through about 15 feet away….he had no chance of making it to second, but, with the Will of God, took off anyway. The first baseman’s throw to second was on a rope. Time seemed to stop. The ball arrived just as Oscar did, but he slid under the tag. The ump held our season in this one call – saaaaaafe. Relief and cheers from the first base line….

“Oscar, do you need to come out, you okay” we all shouted, wondering if we should put in a pinch runner, knowing full well it would become a rules issue and that, honestly, he deserved the chance to stay in. Oscar said nothing – he simply stood tall, both feet standing on the bag, holding his wounded arm. He would not come out. But as the story goes, mighty casey struck out, stranding young Oscar at second, ending the season.

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