He had received straight A' on his report card. Now THAT was an achievement. He had enjoyed a very successful year at school. He worked hard for his grades and studied feverishly for final exams and it had all paid off. But something was tugging at the back of his mind that he just couldn't shake.
Of course it had to do with baseball . His parents just didn't understand the game and they certainly didn't understand why he loved it so. They were pretty understanding about his wanting to spend his allowance on baseball cards but worried that he didn't study enough. He liked school and tried to do his best but, well, baseball was fun. He didn't even mind practice.
He had made a new friend this year who shared his love of baseball. It didn't matter that his friend was a couple of years older and not too well coordinated. Something his parents called cerebral palsy. It didn't matter. His friend had a phenomenal memory. Why, he could quote practically any statistic off the back of all the baseball cards he owned. Somehow what was happening just didn't seem right.
So what if the coach had agreed to let him play "down" in the league. Just because he was older and bigger, all the other parents were furious. Even a twelve year old could see it took him a little longer to walk from the dugout to his position in far right field. And couldn't they see how hard it was for him just to hold his bat steady while waiting for the pitch? And for pete's sake, he struck out every time he got up to bat. What was their beef, anyway? And wasn't he the first one out of the dugout to congratulate each player who got a home run?
The parents were successful in making their point. This would be his friend's last game. All through the game he kept thinking about it. And they were losing. He could hardly stand to look at the other dugout when his friend struck out. The game was over. He got up slowly, kicking disgustedly at the dirt. He couldn't let himself cry. He had to be strong for his friend. It must feel a lot worse for him.
Suddenly, he was almost knocked down as the entire team rushed up and out of the dugout and swarmed around home plate. Eleven dirt-streaked twelve year old boys hoisted his friend onto their shoulders and boisterously carried him triumphantly off the field. They didn't get very far and ended up in a heap of legs and arms rolling in the grass.
He wished his parents had been there to see it all. When he got home, they asked him about his report card.
"Oh yeah,I got straight A's - but wait til you hear what happened at the game..."
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