“I was trying to hit the wall,” James pouted. He turned the cap around on his head and pulled the bill down to hide his face. “I told you I wasn’t any good.”
“It wasn’t bad,” Stacy lied. He patted the boy on the back and tried again. “C’mon man, it was your first throw. You’re not going to come out like Herb Pennock right off the bat, you know?”
The cap came up a bit, showing shy eyes and that wide grin. “Didn’t he pitch against Babe Ruth?”
Stacy jogged over to the ball. “I think they were on the same team. All I’m saying is you did good for your first try. A few more times and you’ll be ready for the big leagues. The minors at least.”