Читать книгу The Last Summer - Chan Howell - Страница 14

Regular Season

We hoped for different outcome this season, but it was the same story with the same ending. Wyatt and the Castaways had very little impact on the league due to no pitching. Wyatt was tormented all season. He would get one at bat before the opposing coach strolled to the mound then told the pitcher to intentionally walk him. It made him more defiant, and he began to welcome the boos, and they rolled off him like rain. He confronted parents and was fearless throwing sand at the hostile fans whenever he deemed it necessary. He lost all his games, but he stood one hundred feet tall after each game because he knew he had left it all on the field and you knew deep down you had just escaped another giant.

Drake and I finished third. It was Duckworth’s best season. Drake had his best year too. I don’t think he struck out once, and he finished tied for second in home runs to Wyatt. Duckworth stopped playing “duck, duck, goose” with us before our games after the second game of the year, when he jumped up, only to drop down with a strained calf. When he was lying on the ground in agony, Drake barely flinched, but my heart was racing and I panicked and shouted to my dad, “Call 9-1-1!” Duckworth laughed and said, “Worm, it’s okay, I think I’ll live.” It was the first time I saw his wrinkles, and I realized he was an old man. While he lay on the ground, grimacing in pain, I wondered what would baseball look like without him. He was unable to pace during our game as he sat on the bench with a bag of ice wrapped around his calf. Duckworth limped for three weeks. Duckworth started growing old before he grew up, and his calf was the first of many injuries. He finished the year pitching batting practice left-handed because, as he put it, he had a rag arm. The fifteen-day disabled list in the majors made more sense to me after the season.

When Travis pitched, it usually meant a quick game. Travis’s height and size were magnified when he stood alone on the mound. Coach Alex’s genius was strategically keeping Travis available to pitch. It was masterful. Alex would start Jaxon Leonard against the lesser opponent, then Travis would finish up, then Alex would start Travis, allowing Jaxon to finish up. Alex stretched Travis’s weekly limit of six innings in what seemed like months. Jaxon usually knocked in half the runs since Travis was just an average hitter. Jaxon was the title character in a straight-to-VHS movie. He was almost a star. Travis received all the accolades. Jaxon blushingly waved off any and all praise as he headed to the shadows.

Jaxon Leonard bounced between his parents and his grandmother when his parents were not trying to make it work. Like RJ, Jaxon could play every position on the diamond. He would go where he was asked with not one shrug. He followed orders. He had been a Duckling too. He was a great athlete and a well-behaved kid, considering his crazy life. The only thing anyone disapproved of him was, Coach Ross hated his long blond hair and he called him mophead. Jaxon was a good pitcher and was a lot like Drake on the field and off. The two were quiet and just played. Jaxon and Drake liked Wyatt because he had come to silence Travis. Jaxon and Travis had been teammates the last three years. Jaxon was afraid everyone had labeled him a villain too. He tried to distance himself from Travis.

Jaxon’s dad, Rob, worked for Jacob Hartley and was a lesser legend. He was on the Jacob Hartley-led state championship team, but he was only a sophomore. He tried to shine through Jacob’s shadow the following two years, but he never lived up to everyone’s high expectations. He lived in the shadows and hid his face under an old hat. Folks in the town always asked, “Whatever happened to Rob Leonard?” He never left, but he stayed out of sight. While Jacob Hartley was out pulling broken-down or wrecked cars off the highway, Rob hid in the garage. Rob watched Jaxon’s games from the parking lot. He despised crowds.

Rob attended a small college for about six weeks before he came back for Jaxon’s mother, Josie. He was still very athletic and handsome, but his face was always red. The folks in the town viewed Rob as another what-if because everyone expected he would have delivered a state title too. He deemed himself a failure, and he was never able to shake the stigma he put on himself. His star faded just like the blue in his eyes faded. He never got over the fact he gave everything up for Josie. Several years later, I once heard him mumble, “She made me forget about home runs.” He knew she was worth it, and she was a what-if for him.

Josie still nearly looked eighteen, and her youthful looks haunted Rob. She always wanted more, but in her eyes, she settled for Rob. She was the prize of the town her whole life. Every eligible bachelor vied for her attention. Her beauty and her bright smile were the object of most men’s lust. Josie occasionally left town to venture to the nearby cities with new dreams, and she eventually came back home, then the process started over. She waited tables at Kermit’s. The owner, like Rob, always took her back when she returned home. Most of our parents disliked her because she only came around when it was convenient. She never sacrificed for Jaxon. When she did come around, she always made sure everyone saw her and she spoke about everything she did for her son. Rob contrarily never missed a game despite rarely being seen.

Jaxon, like his dad, did not like the crowds or the accolades. He was best suited for being a sidekick. Coach Alex treated Jaxon harshly and constantly yelled at Jaxon despite Jaxon being one of the league’s better fielders and hitters. “Jaxon, what are you doing?” was like a chorus of a popular song that Coach Alex sang all the time. Travis and Coach Alex’s success was largely due to Jaxon being able to drive in runs, since Ruby swung a bat made of Swiss cheese.

Jaxon was well adjusted because he stayed with his grandmother most of the time. She made it to half the games more as a taxi than a fan. She had lived this life before, and now she was old and tired. Mary Leonard played a key role to all the parents because she knew where all the fields were. Once upon a time, she had spent a summer traveling the state for all-star games. The Duckworth caravan left too early for most parents. Mary Leonard’s maps were critical for the parents that did not want to join the Duckworth caravan.

Ogre and RJ had trouble outpitching Travis. The new, seventh team only diluted our records and eliminated our one week with a bye. The chalkboard at Wilson’s only changed between who would finish fourth or fifth. The three teams stayed mired in a battle for mediocrity. The 1994 season was the season of the home run, as six players hit more than five, with three hitting nine or more.

Wyatt and the Castaways had a chance to win a game, but he struck out with two runners on. It was the only time I saw him strike out all summer. Anthony Angelo had a herky-jerky sidearm pitching motion that confused batters, but he usually tired quickly. I doubt Duckworth would have let him keep his sidearm pitching motion, but Anthony missed the Duckworth years. I watched in disbelief as Anthony struck out Wyatt. Wyatt smiled, as he did not even attempt to swing at the third strike. Wyatt must’ve known Anthony was different, because he would later protect him. Wyatt was the first to tell you Anthony had struck him out.

Anthony Angelo was a recent transplant to Swansville. He moved to our small town from Hicksville, New York. He told everyone he had moved to Hicksville, North Carolina. His dad, John Angelo, was a New York City firefighter that took over our small town’s fire department just two years earlier. He and Wyatt became friends despite Anthony’s dad warning to stay away from the Hartley boy. Anthony was not intimidated of detention or his father, and he joined Wyatt regularly. John grew to respect the defiant baseball phenom after Wyatt stood up for the stuttering runt. John loved North Carolina despite the hatred of his wife, Suzanne, for it. John was a soft-spoken large man. His New York accent and his size made all of us scared of him. Suzanne was loud and rivaled Missy Ross and shouted embarrassing things. Suzanne would scream insults at the umpires. It was comical, and John had no control over his wife. Looking back, we should’ve been scared of her more than anyone.

John and Suzanne adopted Anthony when he was an infant. Anthony did not look like his giant of a father, nor did he have the dark eyes or hair of his mother. John was injured after a fire and spent two weeks in the hospital. While John was in the burn unit, he would visit the NICU. He met an orphaned baby of drug addicts, Anthony, and decided he needed a better life. John convinced his wife to bring the baby boy home. Eight years later, they moved to Swansville.

Anthony was difficult to control. He was easily distracted, and he talked all the time. His stutter and the number of words coming out of his mouth made him hard to understand. The word um was the only thing that slowed him down. Travis was the first to mock him, and even our elementary PE teacher harassed the small boy. I wanted to stand up for him, but I did not want the insults to change directions. The insults did not seem to bother him, but they made those of us witnessing it uncomfortable. John reluctantly never stood up for his bullied son. John believed Anthony needed to stand up for himself, but the insults that most kids would’ve drowned under had little impact. Anthony seemed to just float by them and rarely even acknowledged the insults.

Midway through the MLB season, the threat of no World Series became a reality. Frankie listened to the radio and complained of two things: a strike and those damn Expos. The Braves’ newfound dominance was in jeopardy. I am still unsure what scared him the most. In addition to Frankie’s old radio blaring the Braves game, he had a black-and-white TV that seemed to have been fished from the bottom of the lake. The radio broadcast was a few seconds behind the TV, and Frankie would yell at us when he showed emotion, because he said we gave away the suspense. The summer was hotter than usual except to Frankie, and he would say, “Boys, this is nothing. I did not even have ice or a cool place to hang out like this.”

There was little suspense during our regular season. The same teams won, and the same players hit home runs. Wyatt only changed the conversation of who was the best player in the league. Ogre and Drake deferred, of course, to Wyatt. Travis demanded he was still the best. Travis’s defense was, “Maybe if Wyatt could pitch or if he weren’t in last place, he would be in the conversation.” Wyatt’s response was simple: “I will show you why when we face off.”