7. Game Day

7 Game Day It was Saturday, the day of the big game. After breakfast (best meal of the day), my parents drove me to Dirk School. When we got there, each of us had to pay a dollar to get into the playground.

"What?!" I said. "We have to pay?" "It's for charity," my mother told me as she took three dollars out of her purse. She put the bills in a big red box that said Freckle Fund on it. "Thank you!" said the smiley Dirk mom at the table. "We've raised over a thousand dollars!" The bleachers were filled with parents and friends.* A bunch of our teachers were there too. Some people were holding signs. DIRK SCHOOL RULES! I LOVE YOU, MORGAN! DOWN WITH FRECKLES!

"Get your hot cross buns here!" shouted Ryan's mom, Mrs. Dole. She

was walking around the stands selling homemade baked goods. (You can read about her in a book called Mrs. Dole Is Out of Control!) My parents wished me good luck, and I ran off to join our team on the bench. Everybody was gathered around Mr. Ott. "Are you kids ready?" he asked. "Yeah!" we shouted back. "I CAN'T HEAR YOU!" shouted Mr. Ott. "I SAID ARE YOU KIDS READY?" "YEAH!" we shouted, even louder. Grown-ups are always saying they can't hear us. I guess when you get old, you start to lose your hearing. The Dirk School band was sitting in the bleachers, and they played that song "We Are the Champions." A door at

the back of the school opened, and the Dirk team marched out. They were wearing matching uniforms and chanting. Let's get dirty! Let's get mean! Come on, Dirk! Let's beat this team! "Oh no," groaned Emily. "Can't we quit right now? The score is zero to zero. We can say it was a tie." "Don't be silly," said Mr. Ott. "Those kids put on their pants one leg at a time, just like you." Huh? What does that have to do with anything? As the Dirk team marched past the front of the bleachers, Morgan

Brocklebank handed out baseball cards with her own picture on them. We're rough! We're tough! Come on, Dirk! Let's strut our stuff! "A.J. and Andrea," said Mr. Ott, "let's go out there and shake hands." "I don't want to shake hands," I said. "Do we have to?" asked Andrea. "It's called sportsmanship," Mr. Ott told us. "Follow me!" The three of us walked out to the pitcher's mound. The Dirk coach came over with Morgan and this kid named Tommy, who always has a finger in his nose.