Extra innings, p.1
Extra Innings, page 1
Published by
PEACHTREE PUBLISHING COMPANY INC.
1700 Chattahoochee Avenue
Atlanta, Georgia 30318-2112
PeachtreeBooks.com
Text © 2024 by Fred Bowen
Jacket illustration © 2024 by Marcelo Baez
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or any other—except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without the prior permission of the publisher.
Composition by Lily Steele
Jacket design by Kate Gartner
Edited by Elizabeth Law
Printed and bound in December 2023 at Sheridan, Chelsea, MI, USA.
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
First Edition
ISBN: 978-1-68263-411-0
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Bowen, Fred, author.
Title: Extra innings / Fred Bowen.
Description: Atlanta : Peachtree Publishing Company Inc., 2024. | Series: Fred Bowen sports story series | Audience: Ages 7-11. | Audience: Grades 2-3. | Summary: Mike’s passion for baseball clashes with his father’s concerns about his responsibilities, so Mike must find a balance between his passion for the game and his after-school work.
Identifiers: LCCN 2023041389 | ISBN 9781682634110 (hardcover) | ISBN 9781682636374 (ebook)
Subjects: CYAC: Baseball--Fiction. | Pitching (Baseball)--Fiction. | Responsibility--Fiction. | Fathers and sons--Fiction. | LCGFT: Sports fiction. | Novels.
Classification: LCC PZ7.B6724 Ex 2024 | DDC [Fic]--dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2023041389
For all the librarians, teachers,
and bookstore owners who are trying
to preserve America’s reading culture.
CONTENTS
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
The Real Story
Acknowledgments
About the Author
About the Cover Illustrator
Hey, Sports Fans!
CHAPTER
ONE
We’re out of cereal,” Mike McGinn said as he looked into the kitchen cabinet.
“What are you talking about?” his father asked. “There are two full boxes up there.”
“I don’t like those cereals,” Mike explained. “I like the crunchy pecan cereal.”
“Who doesn’t like cornflakes?” his father said, shaking his head.
“I’ll put it on my shopping list,” Mike’s mother said. “I’ll pick it up after work, although I’ll be late tonight. Doctor Gupta sees patients late on Wednesdays.”
“I don’t know how you keep all those doctors and their schedules straight,” Dad said. Mom was the office manager of a medical practice in town with six doctors.
“The same way you keep all of your customers straight,” Mrs. McGinn laughed. Mike’s father ran a moving business, McGinn Moving.
Mike’s sister, Teresa, who everyone called Terry, breezed into the kitchen. “I have to go. I’m running late.”
“You need to eat a good breakfast,” her mother warned. “You’re going to be on your feet all day.” Terry was working as a waitress at a restaurant called Brodie’s for the summer.
“I’ll eat there. Dewey will cook me an omelet,” she said as she checked her hair in the mirror.
“Who’s Dewey?” Dad asked.
Mom smiled. “Don’t worry, he’s the breakfast cook at Brodie’s . . . and about sixty years old.”
“I wish they’d put me on lunch and dinner,” Terry complained as she put on a light jacket. “I’d make more money and I could sleep later.”
“Just be sure to save half of what you make,” Dad warned. “You’re going to need that money at college in September.”
Terry was almost out the door. “Love you,” she called.
Dad turned and looked at Mike. “So what about you? What are you doing?”
“Nothing much.” Mike shrugged. “It’s the last day of school. I’ve got an American History quiz but I could flunk it and still get an A for the year.
“I mean, what are you going to do this summer? I don’t want you just laying around the house.”
“He’s only fourteen, Pat,” Mom said.
“Fifteen in August, Mia,” Dad said. “I was working summers when I was fifteen. Painting houses for the Pierce brothers.”
“I have some things he can do around the house. Don’t worry, I’ll keep him busy.”
“I’m playing Babe Ruth baseball again this summer,” Mike said. “We have a good chance to win the league again.”
His father didn’t seem impressed. “Baseball isn’t work. It’s a game,” he said as he wiped his chin with his napkin. “I may need you on the trucks if I’m short a guy during the summer.
Mike poured himself another bowl of cereal.
“See? Those cornflakes aren’t that bad,” his father said.
“I’m just hungry, that’s all.”
Mom kissed Dad and Mike on the tops of their heads. “I’ll see you guys around seven,” she said as she moved to the door.
“Remember to pick up the pecan crunch cereal,” Mike called.
Dad took a sip of his black coffee and a bite of an English muffin slathered with crunchy peanut butter. He checked to see that Mom was gone and then looked straight at Mike.
“I’m warning you. This is your last summer.”
“What do you mean?”
Dad took a gulp of coffee. “Your last summer not working,” he said to Mike as he stood up to go to work. “Understand?
Later, Mike was sitting at a lunch table with three of his teammates.
“The last day of school is such a waste,” Noah Taglienti, the team’s catcher, said. “They shouldn’t even have it.”
“There always has to be a last day of school. The only way not to have a last day of school,” Mike explained, shaking his head, “is not to have any school at all.”
“That wouldn’t be so bad,” Noah said, holding his hands out. “Just saying.”
“We watched the last part of that movie Lincoln in American History today,” center fielder Jayden Moore said. “That was cool.”
“Lincoln’s a pretty good movie,” Luke Hendricks, another outfielder, agreed. “It’s like that guy Daniel Day Lewis is really Lincoln.”
“Are you guys going to be at practice on Saturday?” Mike asked. Every head around the table nodded.
“We are going to have a sweet team this summer.” Noah smiled.
“Coach West always has good summer league teams,” Mike said. “He knows his baseball.”
“Is Damian Kreig playing?” Jayden asked.
“He’s playing for that travel team, the Crushers, this summer,” Mike said as he shook his head. “I don’t know why you’d want to pay money to play for a team when you can play in the Babe Ruth League for nothing.”
“He’s a doctor’s kid,” Noah said. “They’ve got plenty of money.”
“Travel teams go to tournaments and showcases,” Jayden said. “College coaches go to those things. They might see you and recruit you.”
Luke laughed. “Yeah, they might see I’m not very good.”
“You’re okay,” Noah protested. “You just need to practice more.”
“Maybe I should practice golf,” Luke said. “At least in that game the ball you’re trying to hit stays still.”
“We’ll be good because we’ll have our ace, Mike McGinn, pitching half the games this summer,” Noah said, leaning back in his chair.
“Yeah, but who’s going to pitch the other games if we don’t have Damian?” Mike asked. “We were a good combo for the freshman team this spring.”
“How about Chris Schmidt and Johnny Dow?” Jayden asked.
“They’re okay,” Noah said.
“They’re going to have to be,” Mike agreed. “I can’t pitch every game.”
Noah took a bite of his dessert and then put it down on his plate. “Man. This cake is stale. It must be a week old. Do you guys want it?”
“Why would we want stale cake?” Mike said with a laugh.
“Guess not. Just asking.”
Noah looked around the lunchroom at Franklin High School. “You know what I’m looking forward to this summer?”
“Our baseball season?”
“No, not eating this cafeteria food.”
CHAPTER
TWO
A line of baseball players flashed across the outfield. Mike was running as fast -as he could to keep up.
Coach West stood at the edge of the grass as the players sped by. “All right, looking good. I can see we have some speed on this team.”
“He’s talking about Jayden, not us,” Noah whispered to Mike as the players jogged back. “You’re so slow you finished with the catchers.”
“Hey, I’m a pitcher. I just have to be fast enough to cover first base.”
“Make sure you do,” Noah said.
“Pitchers, I want you guys to stay out here with Coach Ko and run five more poles,” Coach West called out. “You all have to get your legs in shape. You have a lot of innings to eat up.”
Mike ran back and forth between the foul poles under the midday sun with the sweat pouring down his back and face. Dad doesn’t think baseball is work, he thought as he ran. He should try running poles.
I’ve gotta get a haircut, he also thought as he shook his head and felt the sweat fly into the air. I’m dripping.
The practice broke up into several different workout stations. Pitchers throwing. Infielders taking ground balls. Outfielders shagging flies. Batters knocking soft toss throws into nets. Everybody practicing something.
“Like I told you,” Mike said to Jayden, pointing to all the players working out in different parts of the field. “Coach West knows his baseball. Nobody’s sitting around. Everybody’s working.”
“Mike!” Coach shouted. “Come in and take some turns at first base.”
Mike hustled in and grabbed his first baseman’s glove. Soon baseballs were buzzing around the infield as the warm summer air filled with baseball chatter.
“Good throw. That’s how you put it on his numbers.”
“Great dig.”
“Move your feet. Get in front of the ball.”
“Don’t hurry your throws. You have time.”
“Set your feet and let it go.”
“Come on, get your glove dirty.”
After everyone had batted and gone through several fielding drills, the players sprawled out in the shade of the trees just beyond the outfield fence gulping water.
“You look like you’ve been swimming,” Mike said to Noah, who was sweating beneath his catcher’s equipment.
“I’ve been working,” Noah said.
“You’re not the only one,” Jayden protested. “Coach Ko has been running our rear ends off in the outfield.”
Noah fell back onto the grass and stared at the cloudless sky. “You know what the problem is with baseball?”
“What?” Mike asked.
“No cheerleaders,” Noah said as he propped himself up on his elbows. “Basketball and football . . . those guys have cheerleaders. All baseball has is a bunch of dumb mascots.”
“Wait a second, I love the Phillie Phanatic!” Luke shouted. “And what about the San Diego Chicken?”
“They’re all dumb,” Noah declared, looking around at his friends. “Just saying.”
Coach West came over with a stack of papers in his hand. “Listen up, here are the schedules for the summer,” he said as he stepped among the players, handing out the papers.
Mike took the schedule and studied the list of games.
Babe Ruth Baseball Schedule for the Murray Auto Clinic Rays
All games played at Sunset Park
June 19
6 pm
Shubie’s Market Cardinals
June 23
1 pm
Kilgore Insurance Pirates
June 25
8 pm
American Legion Post 268 Yankees
June 29
3 pm
Macomber Electric Red Sox
July 3
6 pm
Mill Design Center Mariners
July 7
3 pm
Harborside Dental Royals
July 9
8 pm
Alston & Alston Blue Jays
July 13
11 am
Shubie’s Market Cardinals
July 17
6 pm
Kilgore Insurance Pirates
July 21
3 pm
American Legion Post 268 Yankees
July 23
8 pm
Macomber Electric Red Sox
July 27
1 pm
Mill Design Center Mariners
July 31
6 pm
Harborside Dental Royals
August 4
3 pm
Alston & Alston Blue Jays
August 10
TBD
TBD
August 11
TBD
TBD
At the end of the season a single-elimination tournament will be played between the first- and second-place teams in the Babe Ruth League and two local travel teams. The times of the games will be announced later.
Coach kept talking. “We’ve got a weekday game and a weekend game for seven weeks. Fourteen games in all. Remember, be there forty-five minutes before the first pitch or you don’t play.”
“Man, do we still have to have those dumb sponsor names?” Noah whined. “I mean, the Murray Auto Clinic Rays . . . can’t we just be the Rays?”
Coach West held his hands up. “Those sponsors you call dumb pay good money so you guys can play baseball during the summer for free,” he said. “You should drop by Murray’s shop and thank them.
“One more thing,” Coach continued. “Notice there’s something different on this year’s schedule. We’re going to have a tournament at the end of the season.”
Mike looked at the bottom of the schedule.
“Two travel teams—” Coach began.
“Which ones?” someone shouted.
“The Crushers and the Knights,” Coach said. “And the two top teams from the Babe Ruth League are going to play in a single-elimination tournament. I don’t have to tell you I expect us to be one of those two top teams. See you on Wednesday. Five fifteen—sharp.”
The boys clapped their hands and stood up. “Fourteen games, maybe sixteen,” Luke said, looking at the schedule. “That’s a lot of baseball.”
“You can’t have too much baseball,” Noah said.
“Even though we don’t have cheerleaders?” Mike teased.
“Just saying.” Noah shrugged.
“The travel teams will be tough,” Jayden said, changing the subject. “They have tryouts and pick the best guys.”
“We had tryouts for Babe Ruth,” Noah argued.
“Yeah, but that was mostly just to make the teams even,” Jayden said. “Just about everyone makes a team.”
“So the Crushers have guys like Damian Kreig,” Noah said, grabbing Mike by the back of the neck. “We’ve got Mike, and I’ll take Mike on the mound over Damian any day.”
“Yeah, the travel teams aren’t any better,” Mike agreed while pushing Noah’s hand away. “They just have more money.”
CHAPTER
THREE
Mike stood at the corner of the dugout and stared at the lineup card posted on the wall.
Neal Singh
2B
Owen Leonard
LF
Jayden Moore
CF
Sebastian Guerra
1B
Ken Peplowski
DH
Noah Taglienti
C
Tim Lane
3B
Luke Hendricks
RF
Mateo Hernandez
SS
Mike McGinn
P
All of Mike’s best buddies were in the lineup. Jayden in center. Luke in right. And most importantly, Noah was behind the plate.
“Come on,” Coach said to Mike. “Get warmed up. Let’s make it two in a row.”
Mike jogged out to the outfield with Noah, thinking about the Rays’ 12–5 Opening Day win over the Cardinals.
“I hope we score twelve runs again today like we did against the Cardinals in our first game,” he said.
“We won’t need them,” Noah answered, then added, “By the way, thanks for not calling them the ‘Shubie’s Market Cardinals.’”
Mike started by playing long toss to warm up his arm. Gradually he and Noah moved closer together and Mike concentrated on putting the ball in certain spots. Then he stepped onto the bullpen mound and began throwing for real.
Pop! His fastball smacked into Noah’s mitt.
“You’ve got a good one today,” Noah shouted as he tossed the ball back.
After about twenty warm-up pitches, Mike looked out at the Rays finishing infield practice and stepped out of the bullpen.
“Are you ready to go seven innings?” Noah asked, as he did before every one of Mike’s starts.
