Wind Up, Derek Jeter [little red riding hood read aloud .txt] 📗

The shortstop had backed off from the second base area now and was playing Derek to pull. That left a hole up the middle. Derek planned to put one right through the empty spot. He waited until he saw a high, outside fastball, then swung—

The pitcher dived for cover, and the shortstop and second baseman had no chance, as the ball ripped right up the middle into center field! Vijay, not the fastest kid on the team by any means, still scored—and on the throw, Mason went to third, and Derek wound up on second base!

Now the score was 2–1, and the Yanks had a great chance to take the lead with their home-run leader at the plate. But Pete, too eager to be the hero, swung at a pitch over his head, and popped out to first to dash their hopes.

It wasn’t just Pete, Derek knew. A lot of the Yankees were playing tense today. Not Vijay, that was for sure. But everybody else was unusually quiet. They’d come to life when Derek had driven in that run. But now that the rally had been squashed, everything felt flat again.

Harry kept things close, shutting the door on Reds rallies in the third and fourth. In between, the Yankees came close, loading the bases on two hit batters and a walk, but two strikeouts and a groundout finished off the rally. Derek groaned in frustration with each out, and he wasn’t the only one.

Now the Yankees were down to their last six outs. One run wasn’t much to make up, for sure. But time was running out, not only for the game but for their season!

He could feel the pressure rising, and so could the rest of them. Only Vijay seemed immune, telling everybody they were going to pull this one out of the fire. “Just like we did already. Four times this season, we came from behind to win!”

He’d make a great cheerleader, thought Derek, starting to smile himself—until he caught a glimpse of Avery, sitting at the end of the bench.

She was wincing. He hadn’t imagined it—and holding her stomach too. He made his way down the bench to her, stepping around his other teammates to get there. “You okay?” he asked.

“Been better.”

Well, at least she hadn’t blown him off. “Do you need a doctor or something?”

She looked at him as if he were from Mars. “Are you for real? We’ve got a game to win!”

“Right.” Okay, so she didn’t want to go into it now. Fair enough.

“Okay, then.”

“Jeter!” Coach called out to him. “Let’s go! You’re on deck.”

Mason led off the fifth with a walk. Derek doubled him over to third, hitting the first pitch down the right field line. Once again, the Yanks were threatening! Pete hit a line drive right to the shortstop, who grabbed it, then fired to second. Derek narrowly escaped being doubled off the bag, diving back in just in time. One out.

Harry swung wildly at two bad pitches. Derek winced, wishing Harry would calm himself down. He looked tight as a drum. The next pitch was right over the plate, but Harry watched it go by for strike three. Two outs.

Ryan walked to load the bases.

“I’m on deck,” Avery said, getting up and pushing past Derek, wincing once again.

“Go get ’em!” he called after her, but she didn’t react.

Derek blew out a breath. He sure hoped there was nothing seriously wrong with her. It was all up to JJ now. All he had to do was make solid contact and hit the ball hard someplace—anyplace!

He hit it hard, all right. But it was right at the center fielder, who put it away for the third out, leaving three Yankees base runners stranded for the second inning in a row!

A huge groan went up from the entire Yankees bench. Another golden opportunity, maybe their last, had been snuffed out, just like that.

As Avery tossed away the bat she’d been holding, Coach K came up to her. “Mullins,” he said, handing her the ball, “you’re pitching. Get out there and warm up.”

Avery nodded, tensed her jaw, and pounded the ball into her mitt as she ran out to the mound, all fire and determination.

Nobody was immune from nerves, though—not at this point. The Yankees had only three outs left! They had to hold the Reds here, just to give themselves a fighting chance!

Standing at short, Derek could tell right away that Avery was in a zone. She never took her eyes off the catcher as she wound up and threw.

“Strike one!”

Avery hadn’t even pitched for the Yankees until halfway through the season. In fact, she’d mostly ridden the bench. It was only after Derek and Vijay had talked her up to Coach Stafford that he’d given her a try at second base in a high-pressure situation. She’d come through with flying colors. Later, after Derek had told the coach she could pitch, he’d tried her there, too, and she’d come through again.

On the next pitch the hitter smacked a grounder Derek’s way. He fielded it cleanly and fired to Ryan at first. One out.

The next hitter clobbered one to center. But Mason, with his speed, caught up to it and made a really clutch grab.

Derek saw Avery breathe a sigh of relief. Mason’s great play must have psyched her up even further, because she put the next hitter away on three perfect pitches—a fastball sandwiched between two wicked changeups.

“All you, Mullins!” Coach K yelled, and the rest of the Yankees cheered as well. Avery didn’t acknowledge any of it. She didn’t even smile. She just dropped her mitt onto the bench, grabbed a bat, and walked straight to the batter’s box.

“Go, Avery!” Derek yelled. “Let’s get this rally started!”

She let a fastball go by for a strike. The next pitch was low—but the umpire called it a strike anyway.

“No way!” Avery groaned.

“Play ball!” the ump replied. “Let’s go!”

Avery shook her head and dug in. Derek hoped she wouldn’t let