Chapter 11: Game Tying Triple
Darryl couldn't understand why this strange grownup would be yelling for him. "Yeah you," Vintner said, waving at Darryl to come over to him. Darryl was reluctant. He looked around at his teammates for a support. Darryl had seen him before, the old, lone white man watching their games who never said anything. Darryl's teammates did their best to ignore Darryl's pleading gaze. As far as they were concerned, the weird white guy was Darryl's problem. "Come here kid," Vintner finally said, "I'm not going to bite." Darryl picked up his glove like a security blanket and began to walk slowly towards the fence. He didn't want to go over. He was hoping that the inning would end soon and he would be forced to go back into the field before he reached the fence but Henry, the number nine hitter, followed him up with a base hit and their leadoff hitter was working deep into the count. If it were another kid yelling for him, Darryl would have stayed in the dugout but this was an adult. Not only was it an adult but it was a white adult. The only white adults Darryl knew had positions of power. They were all people his mother told him he had to listen to-ministers, policemen, principals. So Darryl's fear of talking to this strange man was trumped by his fear of not obeying. Darryl slowly made his way over to the fence opposite Vintner. When he got there, he looked up at him, not knowing what to say, not knowing if he was supposed to say something.
"You're dropping your lead shoulder," Vintner told Darryl.
"Huh?" Darryl answered.
"You're dropping your lead shoulder, your left shoulder," Vintner said, motioning towards Darryl's left arm. "You're a righty so your left shoulder is your lead shoulder. Your problem is that you're so eager to hustle to first base, your dropping your left shoulder before the ball gets there and it's sapping all your power." Darryl was listening now. "You need to keep that shoulder up if you want to get any power out of your swing." Darryl just stared at Vintner, trying to simultaneously process the information the man was giving him and the awkwardness of the situation. "Here's what you do," Vintner said and he posed himself like he was standing in the batter's box with a bat. "Next time you're up at bat, stand up as straight as you can and touch your chin to your front shoulder." Vintner demonstrated for Darryl. "Then, when the ball comes, leave your chin on your shoulder for as long as you can." Darryl stared at him. "You got it?" Vintner asked.
"Yeah," Darryl replied.
"Good because you're back in the field." Vintner motioned to the field where the teams were trading places. Darryl ran backwards a few steps, trying to decide what to say before turning around and running to his place on the diamond without saying a word. Vintner went back to his seat in the bleachers to watch the rest of the game.
Before each inning, the catcher stood up and said the score. The score was three to four going into the ninth inning. Darryl's team was losing but they were coming to bat. Their number five hitter was leading off. That meant that if one man got on base, Darryl would get to bat again. The other team's pitcher, a sixteen year-old, seemed to be getting stronger with each inning. He ended the sixth inning with a double play and hadn't let a single runner on base since. By now, he was throwing almost all fastballs. Even from the bleachers, Vintner could hear them whistle through the air before they smacked into the catcher's glove. Still, the five hitter fought off a few of the fastballs and was able to take the third pitch the other way, dropping a bloop single in front of the right fielder. Absent a double play, Darryl was going to get another at bat. The number six hitter, a big lefty, grounded out to first base, moving the runner up to second. There was one out. The next batter struck out on three pitches. It was up to Darryl to keep the game alive.
Darryl stepped into the batter's box. He dug his back foot into the dirt. He glanced over towards first base, in Vintner's general direction, but not directly at Vintner. Vintner was watching though. Darryl lifted the bat over his shoulder and straightened his back. Then he turned his head slightly so that his chin was pushing up against his left shoulder. The pitcher looked at the runner on second and then lifted his front leg to start his motion. He threw a fastball that was as fast as anything Vintner had seen since he'd been coming to these games. Darryl flailed at it but was way behind the ball. Vintner knew that Darryl would have made contact using his old stance but that it would be useless contact. He muttered to himself, "Stay with it kid. Stay with it." Darryl lifted the bat again. His hands were at the end of the bat. Vintner wondered if he would choke up again if he got a second strike. Darryl straightened his back, touched his chin to his left shoulder again and eyed the pitcher. Darryl started his swing earlier this time, knowing that the pitcher didn't think he could catch up to his fastball. His shoulder didn't pull away from his chin until Darryl had already begun his follow-through. He struck the ball hard. It made a loud, hollow, pinging sound. None of Darryl's hits had ever made a sound like that before. The ball laced over the infield and shot between the centerfielder and the right fielder. Darryl watched the ball for a second and then he took off towards first base. As he rounded first he looked up and could see that the centerfielder was still trying to catch up to the ball so he put his head down and ran as hard as he could. He rounded second and could hear the fielders on the other team yelling, "Third! Third!" meaning that the centerfielder had finally gotten the ball and they were calling for him to try to throw Darryl out at third base. Darryl looked straight ahead of him at his third base coach. The third base coach, a fourteen year old boy on Darryl's team, was waving both his hands towards the ground, the signal for Darryl to slide. Darryl lunged forward, put his hands in front of him and slid headfirst into third base. He beat the throw easily. Darryl was safe at third after ripping a game tying triple.
Darryl stood up and dusted himself off. For Darryl, for one glimmering moment, there was no church; there was no school; there were no bickering parents. Most of all, there was no list. There was only the feeling of the sun on his skin, of the dirt on his hands. There was only the sound of the cheers from his teammate and the fading echo of sound his bat made when it hit the ball. Vintner felt it too. No future. No past. One moment, existing forever. For Vintner it was cathartic. He felt free. It was a feeling he hadn't felt for a long time; a feeling that he had begun to believe was a myth of youth like Santa Claus or an imagined first kiss.
Darryl had just knocked in the tying run. He was standing on third base, representing the go ahead run. Manny, the third base coach, a boy two years Darryl's senior, put his hand out so that Darryl could slap it. Manny was beaming. He had a big toothy grin that took up nearly half his face.
Henry, the ninth hitter, drove Darryl in with an infield single deep in the hole between first and second. The hit pulled the first baseman off the bag but was fielded by the second baseman. With no one manning first base, the second baseman tried throwing Darryl out at home but Darryl was too fast. He scored standing up. His team was now ahead five to four. They put the game away in the bottom of the ninth, getting three straight outs. Darryl didn't have to make a play. After the game, the two teams lined up on the field to shake hands. Everybody, the kids on his team and the kids on the other team, kept patting Darryl on the back and complimenting him on his big hit. Some of the compliments were in Spanish but most were in English. Darryl tried to soak it in, wanting to remember all of it.
Vintner stayed for the end of the game, his smile almost as wide as Darryl's. The other players began to gather their stuff together so they could head home. The day's games were finished and the sun was starting to sink down towards the Manhattan skyline. All Darryl had brought with him was his glove and a ball. He held both in his hands, hesitating for a moment, not sure if he should go and say something to the strange old man who gave him the advice that lead to the biggest hit he'd ever had. If Darryl weren't on such a high, he probably would have gone straight home but he felt too good to be afraid. Darryl tucked his glove under his arm and jogged over to the fence toward where Vintner was sitting in the bleachers.
"Hell of a hit," Vintner said before Darryl could even open his mouth to say thank you.
"Thanks," Darryl said, not knowing whether he just thanked him for the advice or for the compliment. He considered saying thank you again to make sure he covered all his bases. "How did you know that stuff?" Darryl asked instead.
"What? About you dropping your shoulder?"
"Yeah," Darryl replied.
"I used to play ball when I was younger," Vintner responded. "We had good coaches." Darryl looked at Vintner. Darryl didn't think that he looked like a ball player.
"You play in the pros?" Darryl asked.
"No," Vintner replied with a chuckle, "but I did play a bit in college. I played kind of like you, trying to make up in hustle for what I lacked in size." Darryl just nodded, not sure if that was a compliment or not.
"Well, thanks." Darryl waved his glove towards Vintner and turned to head home.
"No problem kid. Just remember to keep that front shoulder up," Vintner called after him.
"I will," Darryl yelled over his shoulder as he ran off. Vintner believed him. Darryl tucked his glove back under his left armpit and ran all the way home without stopping.