Bases Loaded Read Online Free

pocket for some money. “Here you go, slugger,” he said, pulling out a whole handful of stuff. He opened his big, wrinkly hand and sorted through rubber bands, string, crumpled paper, keys, and pocket fuzz to find the money.
    â€œWhoa, Gramps, what don’t you keep in your pocket?” Dad said. “You don’t have Grandma in that pile somewhere, do you?”
    Gramps was too busy going through the handful of stuff to answer. Somehow he was able to find about two dollars in coins. I put my hands together, and Gramps dropped the money into them. I also got some of the pocket fuzz.
    â€œThanks, Gramps.” I ran over to the snack bar and was the first in line.
    Luke’s mom was working at the snack bar. Luke is in our class at school, and he’s on the Giants. His mom was always a little grumpy. One time last season, I bought some nachos and she would only give me one napkin. I tried to take more, but she grabbed them right out of my hand and stuffed them back into the metal napkin holder.
    â€œJust one napkin, please. They cost money, you know,” she said.
    â€œI thought they were free,” I answered, trying to reach for another. She grabbed the napkin holder and took it away before I could get more.
    â€œThey may be free to you, but someone has to pay for them,” she said, not giving in. I stood there for a minute or two waiting for her to put the napkins back, but she never did. Finally I just walked away. Have you ever tried to eat nachos with only one napkin? It’s impossible. You need at least three: one for each hand and one for your face. And that’s only if you are really careful. That’s where the nacho cheese stains on the sides of my pants came from.
    So today I was playing it safe. “One Gatorade, please,” I said.
    â€œWhat flavor?” Luke’s mom answered. She rolled her eyes and recited all six flavors in about two seconds.
    â€œHow about the bright yellow?” I said happily. I love yellow Gatorade.
    â€œBright yellow isn’t a flavor, it’s a color,” she said with a sour look. But obviously she knew what I was talking about, because she set the bright yellow Gatorade down right in front of me. “That’s a dollar fifty,” she said. I dumped the pile of coins and fuzz onto the counter, separated the dollar fifty, and slid it toward her. As she counted my money I looked around to see if Heidi and Diane had shown up yet, but there was no sign of them. I grabbed my Gatorade and gathered up the extra coins. I left a big piece of fuzz on the counter. “There’s your tip.” I laughed quietly to myself as I walked away. I thought it was pretty funny.
    It was time to start the game. I ran back to the dugout, grabbed my glove, and hurried out to the pitcher’s mound. After about ten practice pitches, I was ready and the game began. Graham was playing catcher as usual.
    â€œPlay ball!” the umpire called out. The batter stepped up to the plate, and Graham immediately started in on him.
    â€œCome on, Raymond,” Graham yelled. “This guy stinks. He can’t hit.” Then he gave me the sign for a fastball.
    I wound up and threw the ball as fast as I could.
    â€œStrike one!” the ump yelled. The batter didn’t even swing.
    â€œHe’s scared of you, Raymond. Give him another strike, he’s too scared to swing,” Graham yelled again, laughing.
    The second ball was high and outside, but the batter swung.
    â€œStrike two! The count is 0 and 2,” the ump said, holding up a fist on one hand and two fingers on the other.
    â€œSorry, batter,” Graham said. “Does it bother you when I talk? I won’t say a word this time, and we’ll see if you can hit. Okay, everyone be really quiet so number eight can concentrate on the ball.” The batter looked completely frustrated. Graham really knew how to make the batters crazy.
    The batter swung as hard as