Die Like an Eagle Read Online Free

hard at work.”
    â€œProbably not a good idea, dropping by to spy on him,” another said. “That’s how I got blackballed.”
    â€œI thought it was because you complained about prices in the Snack Shack.”
    â€œCould be,” the first said. “It’s not like he ever tells you why you’re out. Suddenly your e-mails don’t get answered and you can volunteer to coach or serve on the board all you like, you’ll never get picked.”
    Michael and Chuck, surrounded by their team, were strolling back toward us. I was struck by the contrast between the Eagles and the group now occupying the first-base dugout. The Eagles, resplendent in their black-and-red uniform t-shirts, were chatting with each other and with the coaches, skipping about, tossing balls back and forth, laughing—they were all smiling and happy. The kids in the dugout were scurrying and anxious, jumping when Biff or one of the other coaches barked an order. Not happy kids.
    â€œYou know, I have an idea,” I said. “Michael and I live just a few miles down the road. Why don’t you all bring the boys over to our house for a while?”
    â€œAgainst the rules to have outside practices,” one of the fathers said. They all looked anxious, and some of them glanced over their shoulders as if afraid Biff might have heard.
    â€œNo, no,” I said. “We’re not going to break the league rules. There will be no unauthorized practices.” The anxious faces of the fathers relaxed a little. “But there’s nothing wrong with trying to let the boys get to know each other and build up a little more team spirit, is there? Michael and I are having a picnic tonight at our house to welcome some visiting relatives. Why don’t you all come? And bring your families?”
    â€œI suppose that could be fun,” one of them said, sounding rather puzzled.
    â€œNo actual harm in it,” said another, as if trying to convince himself.
    â€œI’d have to check with the wife,” said a third.
    â€œAfter all, we should do something to celebrate the start of the holiday,” I said, in case any of them had forgotten that they had both Friday and Monday off due to Founder’s Day Weekend, a town and county holiday. “And Michael has set up a pretty nice little baseball field in our backyard. Well, in my parents’ cow pasture, which is right across the fence from our backyard. So if the boys brought their bats and gloves—I’m sure they’re tired of practicing, but it if they felt like having a little pickup game…?”
    Light dawned in the circle of faces.
    â€œAwesome,” one said. As if they’d rehearsed the maneuver, the tight-knit knot of fathers split apart as each one pulled out his cell phone, took a few steps away from the others, and began punching buttons.
    â€œHoney,” I heard one say, “do we have anything on tonight?… Well, can we skip it? We’re invited to a baseball team picnic at the Waterstons. Yes, it’s important.”
    As I strolled toward our car, passing other fathers on their cell phones, I caught scraps of other, similar conversations.
    â€œGreat idea,” Michael said. “I might have suggested it myself, but I had no idea we were having a picnic tonight.”
    â€œWell, we are now.” I had pulled out my own cell phone and was speed-dialing again. “Mother? Do you think you could organize a picnic at our house?”
    â€œOf course, dear.” She was almost purring at the idea. Next to decorating, entertaining was Mother’s favorite pastime. “When, and for how many people?”
    â€œIn about an hour,” I said. “For three or four dozen people on top of however many relatives have come to town for Opening Day. A lot of them kids—we’re entertaining the boys’ baseball team and their families.”
    â€œAbout a hundred, then,” she said.