10. Pinch Hitter

10 Pinch Hitter It was the last inning. The score was tied. "Okay, we get last licks," Neil shouted as we ran off the field. "Gross!" I said. "I don't want to lick anything." "That means we get the last turn at

bat, dumbhead," Andrea told me. I was going to say something mean to Andrea, but Mr. Ott gathered the team around him so he could say more sports clichés. "Okay, kids," Mr. Ott said. "Wait for your pitch. Put the bat on the ball. Make contact. Take it one run at a time. This is for all the marbles." Huh? Marbles? I had no idea what he was talking about. Ryan stepped up to the plate. "Ryan! Ryan! Ryan!" we chanted. "You can do it, Ryan!" Neil shouted. But Ryan couldn't do it. He grounded out to shortstop. One out. The Dirk dorks started chanting again. You might be good at soccer!

You might be good at track! But when it comes to softball, You better watch your back! Michael stepped up to the plate. "Michael! Michael! Michael!" Michael struck out. Now there were two outs. It was Andrea's turn at bat. "Andrea! Andrea! Andrea!" "Get a hit, Andrea!" shouted Emily. "It ain't over till it's over!" shouted Mr. Ott. That's when the weirdest thing in the history of the world happened. A lady climbed over the fence and ran onto the field. "Oh no," groaned Mr. Ott. "Who's that?" I asked him. "Some obsessed fan?" "No," he replied. "It's my wife,

Wilma." WHAT?! Mrs. Ott ran all the way across the field until she reached our bench. "Willie Ott!" she screamed. "How did you know I was here, Wilma?" he asked. "I was watching you with binoculars all week," said Mrs. Ott. "I thought you

were running around carousing." I didn't know what carousing meant, but it sounded pretty bad. "No," he told Wilma. "I've been running around with these kids." "Willie Ott, you go sit down on that bench!" she ordered. Mr. Ott sat on the bench. "From now on, I'm coaching this team," said Mrs. Ott. "Get up there, girl, and get a hit!" Andrea stepped up to the plate. Morgan Brocklebank went into her windup and let the pitch fly. Andrea swung. And she connected! The ball took off like a bullet down the third-base line! The third baseman dove, but the ball skipped past him. Andrea raced for first. By the time the

Dirk players got to the ball, she was standing on second base. We were yelling and screaming our heads off. "Okay, who's up?" asked Mrs. Ott. "I am," said Mr. Cooper, getting off the bench. "Not anymore," said Mrs. Ott. "Sit down." Mr. Cooper sat down. Mayor Hubble walked over to our bench. "What's the problem?" he asked. "There's no problem," said Mrs. Ott. "I'm bringing in a pinch hitter." "Who?" asked Mayor Hubble. "My husband," she replied. "Willie Ott." WHAT?! Mrs. Ott picked up a bat and handed it to Mr. Ott.