The Prospect, Eliot Parker [free ebooks for android .TXT] 📗

positive, tweaked the starting lineup and starting rotation, and made some effective managerial moves before, during, and after games, and his team was coming into the series with a 75-63 record. However, the team was 11-26 in games without Shane and Biggie in the lineup.
Delmarva also was 75-63, so the winner of the three game series would win the ABA South Division crown and face the Alley Cats for the ABA title. Sheaville had not enjoyed a championship for years, and this team was expected to erase that trend.
Shane Triplet was the game one starter. Despite his excellent physical condition and strength, the extensive layoff hindered his effectiveness on the hill.
Only once in Shane’s last eight starts had he surrendered more than four earned runs, including four appearances with one earned run or less.
That was the case against Delmarva. Shane allowed only four hits, one unearned run and no walks while striking out seven batters in seven innings, but earned a no-decision. Meanwhile, The Shorebirds wound up tying the game in the top of the eighth inning before losing the game in the bottom of the ninth on a throwing error from third to first base that allowed Ryan Head to score, earning a 3-2 triumph for the Loggers.
Delmarva jumped out to a 1-0 lead in the top of the first when Ian Dennis stole home after initially reaching base on an error by shortstop Chaz Martinez. Sheaville responded in the bottom of the frame when Harry Deitzler singled and later scored on a sacrifice fly by Pat Sutton.
The game remained scoreless until Deitzler homered to left field to give the Loggers a 2-1 lead. The Shorebirds tied the game two innings later when Skyler Gaskins tripled and scored on an error by Biggie Rowan. Sheaville eventually pulled out the victory after a single and two walks off of Delmarva closer Ronnie Neal, and a throwing error by third baseman Manuel Rincon allowed Ryan Head to trot down the diamond from third base, ninety feet for the win.
The second game of the series was very similar. For the second time in as many nights, the Loggers employed an impressive pitching performance to post another win. Loggers closer Chris Taylor was moved to the starting rotation because Mason Gobbell was ill, and Taylor was impressive, scattering six hits over eight shutout innings leading the Loggers to a 4-0 win over Delmarva. Taylor registered six strikeouts and recorded only two fly ball outs. The lefthander also coaxed the visitors into 12 ground ball outs, leading to three double plays.
The Shorebirds did put together two threats against Taylor. Delmarva put together back-to-back one-out singles by left fielder Ashley Worthy and right fielder Lewis Legg in the third before posting a double play. In the eighth, third baseman Spencer Adkins reached first on an uncharacteristic error before Worthy singled, but Delmarva failed to capitalize.
Biggie Rowan was the lone offensive catalyst for the Loggers. The catcher had three singles, comprising four of the team’s seven hits.
Walter Mann decided in the third and final game of the series to let the baby-faced, freckled right-hander Mike McBride be the starting pitcher in the deciding game. Even though the Loggers managed to win the first two games and were almost assured of playing Charleston for the league championship, the manager did not want to take a chance-especially after one of the most tumultuous seasons he had ever experienced as a manger.
Moreover, Walter new that Shane could be called upon to pitch in the championship game against Charleston. The manager’s decision proved to be the correct one. The right-handed pitcher silenced the Shorebirds for most of Saturday evening, allowing just three hits and one run in eight innings of work to lead the Loggers to a 5-1 triumph over Delmarva.
McBride improved his record to 8-8 on the season by striking out three Shorebirds while retiring 13 on fly balls and seven on grounders. He had a no-hitter until Ian Dennis opened the sixth inning on a double. Dennis scored one out later when Skyler Gaskins singled to center field.
The Loggers manufactured single runs in the second, third and seventh innings and plated two tallies in the sixth. Chaz Martinez had three hits and an RBI while Harry Deitzler had two hits and a run scored.
The victory improved the Sheaville Loggers to 78-63 for the year and earned them a birth in the Appalachian Baseball Association Championship game to be played in Charleston in two days.
After the game, manager Walter Mann gathered the team in the sultry and stifling locker room to talk to the players.
As usual, some players situated themselves on the wobbly wooden benches while others stood up or sat on the stained concrete floor. In a reversal of fortune, Biggie and Shane ended up sharing a bench, although Shane faced Walter with one leg bent and drawn to his chest, purposely refusing to look at or speak to Biggie.
“Men, today I am as proud of you as I have ever been.” Walter’s voice was full and round, sprinkled with pride and admiration for his team.
“We have all been through it this year. On the field and off it. But it ain’t like we have no talent on this club. I want you to know, I am proud of each of ya. Now let’s get ready to go to Charleston and kick some Alley Cats’ ass!”
The players roared with excitement and smacked each other on the arms, legs, and buttocks for a job well done. Harry, Ryan, and Chaz all came over to Shane to show their excitement. Shane returned the gestures, smiling widely.
As most of the team rushed into the showers while others hurriedly changed out of their uniforms, Shane walked around one long row of lockers to the very end and began undressing. Biggie Rowan walked the other direction and this time meticulously approached Shane while he was looking down at his cleats.
“Pretty boy,” mumbled Biggie, expecting an adrenaline-laced rise from his teammate.
“Don’t start Biggie. I do not want to ruin our victory by having to listen to your shit.”
Biggie placed his hands on his hips, content to stand there and wait for Shane to actually look at him and speak to him.
Shane dropped his untied cleats and slammed the locker door shut. “What do you want Rowan? I swear, do not mess with me….”
Biggie rocked his head backwards and forwards, retreating slowly and visually sizing up the pitcher. “Nothing pretty boy… nothing.”
Shane rubbed his left eye with one finger and began unbuttoning his uniform. “Rowan, wait a second. There is something I want to say.”
Jason inched closer, crossing his massive arms across his chest.
“Why did you stand next to me the other day? I mean, when the police were going to arrest me, you could have told them about you and me and the fights and arguments. It would have made the case against me stronger. I figured you were going to encourage them to cuff me sooner.”
Calm and resolute, Biggie replied placidly. “Because, seeing what was happening to you reminded me of when my own father was arrested in New Jersey for cocaine possession when I was eight years old. I never my old man ever again after that night. I did not want to see someone else I depend upon go to jail. So I figured you needed teammates to support your ass, and that’s what I did.”
Shane’s eyes rolled from side to side as his brain began calculating and dissecting the information. When he looked forward again, Biggie Rowan was walking away, his shoulder blades protruding from the tight sleeveless shirt slipped over his body.
“Your welcome, pretty boy.”

XXXVI
Shane held the telephone receiver and swiveled the circular ring on Phil Rodney’s back room telephone trying to reach Olivia. The department store was not open on Sunday, but Phil had to go and balance the store’s accounting books, so he agreed to let Shane use the phone in the meantime.
“Any luck?” Phil questioned from an adjacent room in the department store.
The only response Phil heard was Shane slamming the receiver against the telephone base in disgust.
“Guess not.”
Shane fired from the back room and plopped down on a stool behind the counter. Reaching for a cigarette, Phil turned towards Shane, indicating with a frozen stare that no smoking in the department store would be tolerated.
Another real mess, Shane thought to himself.
“You want to talk about it, Shane? I know that you have been through quite an ordeal the last couple of weeks…finding out what happened to your dad and all.”
“No thanks Mr. Rodney, but thanks for letting me use the phone. I have to get to the ballpark anyway and practice.”
“Suit yourself.”
Shane grabbed a glove and a draw string laundry bag containing baseballs and a couple of wooden bats and headed for Clark Field. Even though Sunday was not a traditional practice day, aside from warm-ups before a Sunday afternoon game, Shane wanted to be ready for the title game against Charleston.
Downtown Sheaville on an early Sunday afternoon was always desolate. Practically everyone in town was at church, which suddenly explained where Olivia was. For all Shane knew, she was listening with bated breath to another sermon from Father Francisco and snuggled under the arm of her father, Morton Mitchell.
The whole scenario was enough to make Shane want to smoke, which finally he did. As the nicotine passed through his lungs and the smoke filtered out from his nose, Clark Field seemed to grow smaller in the distance. The farther Shane walked, the smaller the ballpark appeared.
Once inside, Ryan, Chaz, and Harry were working on fielding drills. This included fielding ground balls, turning double plays, and catching pop flies under the blinding, intense early morning August sun. Shane walked around them and headed to the bullpen along first base, prepared to work on the movement of his fastball and breaking ball pitches.
Walter Mann was sitting in the first row of stands behind home plate. Finally noticing that Shane had arrived Walter scurried from the stands. Shane heard someone with a heavy gait coming closer, but did not react. Instead, the velocity on the fastballs increased with each pitch.
“Triplet, you all right? I mean you ain’t been saying much to me or your teammates here lately.”
“I have been busy,” Shane replied, as he continued slamming balls into the aqua blue bullpen tarp.
“Triplet, why did you not tell me or your team about Olivia and the baby or about what happened to your daddy?”
Putting some top spin on a curveball, Shane at first ignored the inquiry. Yet eventually the pitcher responded to his manager.
Stepping off the pitching rubber in the simulated bullpen mound, Shane walked over to him.
“I had to find out about everything from everyone ‘round town. That just ain’t right”
“Sounds like you didn’t consider the source,” responded Shane, exasperatingly.
Looking away and then back at Walter, Shane elaborated. “A lot has been going on. I do not know why I did not tell you about Olivia and the baby, or my father, or why my mother is so sick, or anything else. I just do not know. I guess part of me just shuts down when I am not playing baseball. I mean, Olivia wants this kid so much and she has so much faith and belief in me.”
“And you do not know how’s to take it?”
“It’s not that,” Shane snipped back. “I just feel like everyone around me doesn’t really believe in me. Everyone wants me to be what they want me to be. Olivia wants me to be some type of Richard Gere movie character, you and