The Crazy Horse Electric Game Read Online Free Page A

inning. His one scare came from Sal Whitworth, who tagged a pitch that got away from Willie in the bottom of the first inning, sending the ball over the left-field fence just inches outside the foul line.
    Johnny’s mouth, which Coach Ivy credits with being worth a run a game, is working overtime. Back in the bottom of the fifth, he called time and hustled over to the dugout to get an extra pair of socks he’d left on the bench, walked back to the plate stuffing them inside his mitt, calling loudly out to Willie, “Sorry, big boy. Didn’t mean to break your concentration, but I got to have more padding. You’re hot today, Willie boy. Hot. You hear me? Batter up! C’mon, batter. Step right up and take your medicine. We’ll have you outta here in time for the early movie. Batter up! Let’s get these boys outta their misery and home to their mommas. C’mon now, batter up…” and on and on.
    The top of the ninth is quiet for Samson Floral, and Willie goes into the last inning with a one-run lead, facing the second, third and fourth men in their batting order. Sal Whitworth bats fourth; clean-up. Between the dugout and the mound, Sal catches Willie by the arm. There’s a hint of a sneer, but he says, “Throwin’ good today.”
    Willie says, “Thanks.”
    â€œI’m catching on, though,” Sal says. “Next good-lookin’ pitch is outta here.”
    Willie won’t be intimidated. “You’ll get one,” he says. “Count on it.”
    After striking out the first batter on three pitches, Willie makes his first mistake of the game. He throws a high, inside, medium fastball to back the batter off the plate some, but instead of backing down, the batter edges into it and takes the ball on his elbow, then walks to first. Willie curses himself for not throwing it harder; making the hitter pay for a freebee. That brings up Sal Whitworth for the last time and Willie knows he’s flat dangerous with a runner on. Willie lets what Sal said between innings creep into his head and for the first time in the Crazy Horse Electric game he feels the slightest bit rattled.
    The entire Crazy Horse team stands in the dugout screaming at him: “…rubber arm…only good for eight…Crazy Horse always finds a way…’hon, big Sal…”
    Willie calls time and steps off the mound. Sal smiles and steps back, too. Johnny throws off his mask and walks out to the mound at the same time Coach Ivy moves toward them from the dugout. Johnny’s there first, his mouth on automatic. “Let’s get rid of this guy and go home,” he says. “My dad’s planning a big celebration. Signing me with the Yankees if we win. C’mon, Willie, just blow him over and let’s get out of here…”
    Willie nods. “Shouldn’t have hit that first batter…”
    Coach Ivy hears him as he approaches. “Don’t worry about the runner, Willie. Throw like you’ve been throwing and he’ll die where he stands. Just concentrate on the hitter. No pick-offs. Give him all the lead he wants. Key to this game is standing right there at home plate looking at you. How’s the arm? You’re throwing like a champ. Feeling okay?”
    Willie feels his arm. It’s a little sore, maybe a hair tired. He can’t tell for sure. Is this all going up in smoke in the next few pitches? Has he gone this far just to serve up the pitch that Sal Whitworth will blast into North Dakota? Willie looks past Johnny and Coach Ivy over to the stands where his dad stands in his Washington Husky football jersey, arms folded, a tight grimace on his lips. He nods at Willie: Time to go to the well . Willie can hear Big Will’s voice over the crowd, over Johnny; because Big Will’s voice is in his head. “Always go at the big guys with your best stuff, son. That’s how you show ’em respect.” Willie’s