Chapter 2
* * * *
The next afternoon Thad rushed into the house after baseball practice. His two close friends, Dale and Link, had shown him their letters that let them know they had been picked for batboy tryouts. His friends’ letters had come the day before, so Thad had run all the way home, hoping to find his invitation waiting for him.
He dropped his pack as he slammed the door behind him and checked the table for mail.
“Damn!” he cursed out loud.
He threw the pile of envelopes back onto the table. Some fell to the floor and Thad stooped to gather them up. He dragged his backpack into the kitchen and slumped in a chair.
“Someone looks like the world has just ended,” Mrs. Stevens said as she stirred a pot on the stove.
Thad looked over at his mother. He had one of the few moms that didn’t work outside the home. His dad, who was always quoting the Bible, wouldn’t hear of it. “A woman’s place is in the home,” he would often say, along with other things that were supposed to have their origins in the Good Book. Thad sometimes thought his dad made up stuff just to add weight to his opinions.
“Might as well,” Thad sighed. “Link and Dale got letters to try out as batboys, and I didn’t.”
His mother turned from the stove and wiped her hands on her apron. She had anI-know-something-you-don’t-know look on her face.
“This might make you feel better.”
She pulled a legal-sized envelope out of her apron pocket and laid it on the table in front of her son. It was addressed to him. Thad stared at it for several seconds, reading and rereading the return address.
Buzzards Baseball
Peoria, Illinois 61601
He raised his head, his mouth open wide.
His mother smiled. “Well, go on, open it.”
Thad hesitated. Yeah, Link and Dale had gotten letters saying they were invited to try out but Bobby, another of his friends who had applied, had got a letter, too. Only his had said “better luck next year,” just like Thad’s had for the past three years. What if his letter was one of those?
“Well?” Mrs. Stevens prodded. “Wasn’t this what you were hoping to get today?”
Thad took a deep breath and ripped open the envelope.
Dear Thad,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been selected to try out for the Buzzards Baseball team roster of batboys for the current summer season…
Thad jumped from his chair and whooped. He grabbed his mother and twirled her around.
“I made it!” he yelled. “Well, I didn’t make the squad…yet. But they want me to try out!”
Mrs. Stevens laughed and said, “Didn’t I tell you this was your year?”
Thad stopped spinning her around and read the rest of the letter. He was supposed to report to the stadium this coming Saturday at ten A.M. He should come dressed in athletic wear. He was to bring his baseball mitt. Lunch would be provided.
“I can’t wait to tell Dad!” Thad enthused.
“Tell Dad what?” his father’s voice came from the front hall.
Thad took the letter and ran out to greet him. “I got picked to try out for the Buzzards’ batboy squad!”
His dad high fived him and gave him a big hug. “That’s great, son. You’ve waited a long time. But didn’t I tell you the Lord would provide when the time was right? His wisdom and timing never fail.”
Thad didn’t much care at that moment about the Lord’s timing or wisdom. All he cared about was that he was going to get the chance to be a batboy.
* * * *
Saturday took its time getting there. To Thad every day felt like it was two days long. Even baseball practice after school, which he usually enjoyed, seemed to drag. And, of course, as if they were in on some evil plot, three of his teachers scheduled tests for that Friday. Studying for the exams was absolute torture. How the idiot teachers expected kids to concentrate when there was so much more important stuff on your mind was beyond Thad’s comprehension.
Somehow, Saturday finally appeared. Thad, Link, and Dale arrived at Buzzards Stadium for the tryouts. They stood outside, anxiously waiting for the gates to open.
Thad kept looking around. By ten A.M. there must have been fifty kids outside the ballpark, both guys and girls. His heart sank. He knew only ten boys or girls would get jobs. He knew many of the boys. They were from the other high schools in town and he had played against them in baseball and basketball over the years. Some were puny little guys and they weren’t a threat.
Probably got here ’cause they wrote super cool essays.
But he knew some were good athletes. They were the real competition. Thad knew you had to be a pretty decent athlete to be a batboy. That would be part of the tryout: showing you could run, throw, and catch.
Before he could get too worried, the gates swung open and an older man wearing a polo shirt with the Buzzards’ logo and slacks came out to meet them. He introduced himself as Roy Dickerson, the batboy trainer. He beckoned the group to follow him.
They were led to the stands on the third-base side of the ball diamond. Thad and the rest took their seats. As if on cue, the Buzzards ball team took the field and began running around the bases. The would-be batboys and batgirls stood and cheered as the team took their warm-up laps around the infield. Thad, Link, and Dale punched each other, cheering and waving. Thad’s heart skipped a beat. He had caught sight of Iggy. He’d seen him many times when he had come to watch the Buzzards play. But this time, with the prospect of being around him every game day, his reaction to the man was more intense. He felt both elated and yet disturbed at some of the feelings seeing Iggy Hernandez had stimulated.