8. The First Inning

8 The First Inning Even though Dirk was the home team, they said we could bat first or take the field first. Mr. Ott said we should take the field first. He gathered us around him. "Okay, kids," he said. "We came to play. Stay focused. Get it done. You

know how to win. Stay in the moment. Play your game. Take care of business. Give it a hundred and ten percent. There's no tomorrow." Boy, he sure knows a lot of sports clichés. "Who's on first?" I asked Ryan. "I don't know," he replied. Andrea was our best turtle tosser, so Mr. Ott said she would be our pitcher. He told Emily to be the catcher. He told me to play first base, Ryan to play second, and Michael to play third. Alexia was our shortstop.* Neil went out to center field. There was nobody to play left field or right field, so Mayor Hubble said two grown-ups could play for each team. Mr. Cooper and Mr. Klutz ran out to the outfield. Andrea threw a couple of warm-up pitches.

Morgan Brocklebank was the leadoff batter for Dirk. She looked mean, and she looked like she knew how to hit. "Strike her out, Andrea!" Neil shouted. "No batter. No batter!" hollered Alexia. "We want a pitcher," somebody yelled from the Dirk bench, "not a glass of water!" Andrea threw hard, but Morgan Brocklebank smashed the first pitch into the outfield. Neil chased it down, but by the time he got to the ball, Morgan was standing on third base. A triple! Tommy the Nosepicker was up next. He took his finger out of his nose long enough to hit a single. Morgan Brocklebank scored easily from third.

Dirk was leading 1–0. Andrea struck out the next three Dirk kids, and it was our turn to bat. We all put on batting helmets. The Dirk pitcher was Morgan, of course. The Dirk dorks started chanting again.

We know karate! We know kung fu! But we're playing softball, And we're gonna mess with you! "Hey, our team needs a chant," said Alexia. "Yeah," everybody agreed. "You're good at writing poems, Arlo," said Andrea. "Why don't you make up a chant?" Well, she was right about that. I make up cool raps all the time. That's how I got into the gifted and talented program. I stood up and started rapping. Cotton candy! Cracker jacks! Hey there, pitcher! Yack, yack, yack!

Oh, boy, Morgan sure looks mean! Her arm is like a washing machine! I thought everybody was going to stand up and chant with me. But nobody stood up. Nobody chanted. Everybody was looking at me. I hate when that happens. I sat back down. "That chant was lame, dude," Ryan told me. There was no time to come up with a better chant. Alexia, our lead-off batter, stepped up to the plate. "You're in the driver's seat, Alexia!" hollered Mr. Ott. Huh? That made no sense at all. We're too young to drive. Morgan went into her windup, and Alexia swung at the first pitch. She hit a grounder to second. It looked like an