Read Online Center Field by Robert Lipsyte - Free Book Online

least for now, thought Mike. Good for the team even if I’m not having much of a day. That’s the way Billy Budd would think. Mike bobbled a routine fly in right center, although he held on to it. His ankleached and he was a step behind a long drive to left-center that hit the fence. Oscar was backing him up and fired in to Todd to keep the batter at second.
    It was worse at bat. Mike was lunging at the ball, never making solid contact. He was overeager and knew it and couldn’t do anything about it. He hit into a double play and popped up to the catcher.
    But the one-run lead held into the seventh when Oscar blasted a homer with Todd on base. The final score was 3–0.
    Oscar was the man in the noisy Ridgedale locker room. He looked happy but humble, slapping palms, bumping fists. Mike thought it would be easier to dislike him if he were cocky instead of just confident. Why should I dislike him? Why shouldn’t he be confident? He can play.
    Craig followed Oscar around, holding up his boom box. Chief Loki was screaming, “We own da season.” Oscar looked embarrassed.
    Mike dressed and got out as quick as he could. Didn’t have a chance to ask Oscar how he knew it was going to be a curve. Baseball instincts or had he spotted the pitcher’s giveaway motion? Maybe I don’t want to know, Mike thought.

FOURTEEN
    Coach Cody and Oscar didn’t show up for Thursday’s practice. According to Ryan, who heard it from Tori who volunteered in the school office, they were going to see an immigration lawyer.
    â€œGet him an instant green card,” said Andy. “Special dispensation.”
    â€œFor what?” said Ryan. They were standing at the new batting cage, waiting to hit.
    â€œHe has a skill in demand,” said Andy. “He can get us to state.”
    â€œA little early for that,” said Mike. “Just one game.”
    â€œAndy’s right, he can play,” said Ryan.
    â€œWhat I’m saying is that the system is corrupt,” said Andy. “I bet Oscar’s twenty if he’s a day, probably spent a few years in the rice and beans league back home. He’s a pro, ineligible to play high school ball. Bet he has an agent.You notice the brand-new Nike gear he wears?”
    â€œCoach Cody wouldn’t allow that,” said Mike.
    â€œWake up and smell the burritos,” said Andy. “Cody brought him in to make us winners.”
    It was Mike’s turn to hit, and he was glad. Got to concentrate. Get my swing back. Nice and easy, just make contact.
    One of the assistants, Coach Sherman, just a few years out of college, was pitching batting practice, grooving fastballs. After Mike slapped the first two pitches back to the screen in front of him, Sherman yelled, “You’re hitting on top of the ball, Mike. Watch the bat make contact.”
    He finally managed a solid hit, a rope to left center, on his last swing. As he ran to first, Coach Sherman yelled, “Attaboy, Mike,” which made him feel worse. Getting praise for something he usually did all the time was a warning signal.
    You losing it, Mike?
    Â 
    He didn’t see Coach Cody or Oscar in school on Friday and Tori didn’t have any more information. She and Lori were sitting with him and Ryan at one of the varsity tables. Andy had stopped to talk to some girls on the debate team. Girls who liked jocks usually didn’t go for him.
    â€œYou think Oscar could be twenty?” Ryan asked.
    â€œWho said that?” said Lori.
    â€œAndy.”
    Tori snorted. “Like he knows.”
    â€œI thought you can’t play if you’re over nineteen,” said Lori. “Don’t they have our birth dates on file?”
    â€œThose files are in Coach Cody’s office,” said Tori.
    â€œSo Coach would know,” said Mike. “Can we talk about something else?”
    â€œ Billy Budd ?” said Lori. She was trying to be nice, Mike thought.