The GHOST and Charlie Dusenberry
Chapter Twenty Four: Game of Games!

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“Never let the fear of striking out keep you from playing the game.” –Babe Ruth

Jaycee Phipps was tired of the book work. He didn’t care that the first balloons were used in the late 1700s. Most of them were in France and used to study the weather. Big deal. Jaycee wanted to get back into the air, but his teacher, Bill Kirk, reminded him that he needed to pass an exam to get his pilot’s license. History was part of it.

After the history phase of pilot school, Jaycee started to be taught the parts of the balloon. There was the balloon envelope, the basket, the burners, etc. Jaycee took some notes but believed he could remember all this when exam time came.

When was he going to get back in the air? That’s what was important to Jaycee! When he got a chance, he pulled Bill aside after one of the classroom lessons. “Bill, look I’m paying a boatload of cash for all of this. How about another ride?”

At first, Bill was reluctant. It cost him money to get the balloon into the air. The costs included propane gas, weather reports, and, importantly, a ground and chase crew. But, he liked Jaycee and there was the possibility he would be able to sell the balloon to him in the future.

“OK, Jaycee.” Bill conceded. “But it has to be this Saturday. If the weather and winds look favorable, we’ll go up for a short flight. But, no more rides until you finish pilot school!’

“You got it, Bill!” Jaycee agreed. He was a very happy man. Now if only the weather would cooperate Saturday.

Saturday morning the alarm clock turned on the radio at eight o’clock. As Charlie leaned over to kiss Susan good morning the weather report promised a partly sunny day with a high near 72-degrees. Winds would be light around ten miles-per-hour. The only thing to watch out for, said the weatherman, was a cool front that might kick up the winds from the north around lunchtime.

“Looks like a good day for the ballgame,” said a still sleepy Charlie.

Susan snuggled closer to her husband. “What time is the game again?”

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“We are the noon game today,” answered Charlie. “There’s a game before ours so we might start a little later.”

“Good,” whispered Susan. “So, maybe we can stay in bed a few more minutes?”

“We might be able to do that,” said Charlie as Susan snuggled even closer.

Anyone who has attended a little league baseball game knows about “transition time.” That’s the time between games when players and parents of the game just ending pack up to leave and the players and parents of the next game arrive. When Charlie, Susan, and DD arrived at the field, it was smack in the middle of “transition time.” The game between the Cubs and Giants had just ended and cars were coming and going in the parking lot. After parking the Honda, DD helped his father get the equipment out of the car’s trunk.

“You missed a good game.”

Charlie turned around to see Gus standing next to the car. “Got here a little early?”

“Yeah, I’m a bit excited to see what our changes are going to do,” answered Gus. “Good morning, Susan! How’s your arm, DD?”

DD swung his arm in a circular motion. “It feels good!” Since the league rules state that Saturday begins a new week, DD was able to be the starting pitcher again. “I’m glad that this time I can pitch against the Red Sox.”

Gus slapped DD on the back and took the heavy ball bag away from him. “Can’t have you tuckered out before you throw a pitch!” joked Gus. “Do we know who is pitching against us today?”

“Yeah,” answered DD. “It’ll be Zeph again.”

“That’s OK,” Charlie said quickly. “I’d like to think we have a score to settle against him.”

It was a packed house. The stands were filled with eager parents. Many had also brought folding chairs and set them upright behind the fencing that ringed the field. Cheers from behind the Yankees’ dugout rang out as the team took the field. Charlie could hear some murmurs from the stands as they started to notice where some of his kids were lining up.

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Charlie and Gus stood next to each other just outside the dugout and smiled. Both heard the comments coming from the startled parents.

“How come they switched all those positions?”

“Look who’s playing first base?”

“Forget that! Look who’s playing third base?”

The changes the parents were talking about had been a major part of what Gus and Charlie had been working on in practice. The Yankees were not a talent-rich team. There were, however, some things the coaches felt they could do to make the team a bit stronger.

Some things didn’t change because they didn’t need to. DD pitching and Grego catching were strengths. There were three major defensive changes to the Yankees:

*Jason Helmuth was moved from third base to second base. Gus felt Jason needed to get on the other side of the field from his brother, Jack. Hopefully, this would reduce the chances of the twins arguing over who should field a grounder hit between them. It seemed to work at practice.

*Next, big Wally Wilson took over at first base. He was moved there because of two reasons. One, he was very slow. While playing in the outfield he could not get to a fly ball unless it was hit right at him. Two, by playing first base, Wally did not have to move very far to cover his position. During practice Wally showed he could catch a ball thrown to him, so he inherited first base.

*The next move was the coaches’ biggest gamble. When they decided to move Jason from third base to second base, they lost a competent fielder at the “hot corner.” Usually, when a ball was hit to third base it was hit very hard. That’s why it’s called the “hot corner.” A good third baseman had to be someone not afraid of the ball. The Yankees were woefully short of good fielders so it took some time for the coaches to come up with a solution. Gus and Charlie finally boiled it down to who on their team was not afraid of getting in front of a hard-hit ball? That made the answer obvious. Beast was not afraid of much, certainly not a baseball. The large boy agreed to give the position a shot.

The rest of the line-up had Cleon Jones in left field, Mitzi Wright in center field and Willow Spencer in right field. The only thing left for the coaches to do was pray, which both did several times that day.

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The two head coaches met at home plate with the umpire, once again John Dalton, to go over the ground rules. Tim Blanda, the Red Sox head coach, greeted Charlie with, “I see you’ve made some changes.”

“Yes, we did,” agreed Charlie. “Hopefully those changes will let us give you a tougher game than we did last time.”

“We’ll see,” Blanda said with a wry smile. “We’ll see.”

Both men shook hands with each other and then with the umpire before returning to their respective dugouts. It was game time.

DD started out hot by striking out the first two Red Sox batters. Hitter number three was Zeph Yarnell.

As Zeph was getting ready to step into the batter’s box he paused to look down at the crouching catcher. “Hey, Carter, where is that loser Michelson? He still home crying about our last game?”

“Don’t worry about him, Yarnell,” responded Grego. “Worry about who you are facing now.”

“No problem,” said Zeph as he got ready.

DD looked at the challenge that faced him. You could say a lot of bad things about Yarnell. He was a bully and a big mouth, but you couldn’t deny he was a good baseball player. DD had to be careful about what and where he threw it to him.

After three pitches the count stood at two balls and one strike. Grego signaled DD to throw a fastball on the inside corner of the plate. DD agreed with a shake of the head and began his windup. The throw had good speed to it, but it missed its intended target and ended up crossing the middle, not the corner, of the home plate.

Zeph grunted loudly as he put every ounce of effort into swinging his bat. It was a solid hit. DD turned his head and watched the ball easily clear the center-field fence. The Red Sox had a 1-0 lead.

Yarnell took his sweet time rounding the bases as his teammates and supporting parents hooted and hollered. When he crossed home plate, Zeph stopped and looked out at DD with a big smile. DD returned an angry stare.

“I know he’s just a kid,” responded Gus to Zeph’s antics, “but part of me really does not like him.”

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“Join the club,” said Charlie. “We’ve got t-shirts.”

DD got out of the first inning by getting the next Red Sox batter to ground out to second base.

“Sorry, Dad,” said DD as he walked off the field. Charlie slapped him on the back and told him not to worry about it. The game was very young.

As good as Zeph was hitting a baseball, he was just as good at pitching for the first three innings. The only problems he had were with DD and Grego. DD collected a double and Grego drew a walk. Both runners were stranded and the Red Sox maintained a 1-0 lead.

One thing Charlie and Gus noticed, however, was that not all was well on the Red Sox side of the field. In between innings, their coach was heard railing at his players. “Those guys should not be in this game! We should be crushing them by now! Get your acts together!”

“We must be doing something right,” laughed Gus.

Charlie agreed. “They may not be happy, but we’ve got to get something going soon. The game is half over.”

Less than two miles away several other people were not happy, but for different reasons. At Grande Forkes’ regional airport Bill Kirk had just finished supervising his ground crew as they prepared to inflate his balloon. The crew had just finished rolling out the balloon and leaning the basket onto its side so the burner would be able to push in hot air after igniting the burner’s flame.

“What’s taking so long?” complained Jaycee Phipps. He had been told they would be in the air by now, but a harried Kirk had held up on getting the balloon ready. He kept telling Jaycee that he was waiting on an updated weather forecast before committing to the flight.

“You know how the balloon flies, right?” asked Kirk.

Jaycee knew all right. In class, the instructor told him several times that no one has complete control over the balloon’s flight path. It depended on the wind’s direction. You could not plan precisely to go from a point “A” to a point “B.”

Kirk continued chewing on Jaycee. “I’m going to get the balloon up and ready to fly, but we will not go anywhere until I get a weather update. For some reason, the tower isn’t ready to release one yet.”

“But, it’s beautiful out,” cried Jaycee. “The wind is perfect!”

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“Things can change, Jaycee. You’ll have to be patient a little longer.”

Jaycee tried to hide his disappointment. He did perk up a little as he watched the balloon’s envelope expand as the ground crew blew hot air into it. After a few minutes, the red, white and blue balloon was fully expanded and it swayed gently in the light breeze. Rope tethers strained to hold it on the ground.

The long propane flame was turned on and off by a crew member to keep the balloon inflated while everyone waited on Kirk. Suddenly the noisy flame cut off and in the silence, Jaycee heard the crew member curse and exclaim, “Now what?”

Several crew members joined the one in the balloon’s basket and started examining the burner. Kirk showed up a minute later and he too asked, “Now what?”

More than one parent on the Yankees’ side of the stands wondered how their team was staying in the game with the Red Sox. One parent called it a miracle. Charlie and Gus, while not discounting divine intervention, thought it was also because of their kids’ determination and the changes the two coaches had made.

Two key defensive plays kept the game 1-0.

*With two outs, a Red Sox player stood on second base. The manager’s son, Leonard Kirk, hit a hot shot down the third baseline. If it got by the third baseman the runner would easily score. But, the newest Yankee third baseman was “Beast” Harper and he didn’t turn away from the rocketing ball which took a nasty hop at the last second. The ball bounded off Beast’s stomach, popped up in the air where he grabbed it with his bare right hand. Setting himself for a split second, Beast waited for the team’s other big man, Wally Wilson, to set himself on first base. The throw across the field was snagged by Wally nipping Leonard by a step. Inning and threat over.

*In the fifth inning, the Red Sox had another threat going. DD’s control seemed to be slipping and a hit and two walks loaded the bases with only one out. Up to bat came the Sox center fielder who had already scratched out a hit earlier in the game. Charlie sent Gus out to the mound to talk over the situation with DD and the rest of the infield. Gus told them the batter was a very fast runner so the infield would have to “play in.” That meant the infielders would move closer to home to cut down on the time needed to throw out the hitter. After discussing the options of where to throw the ball, each player returned to their positions and waited on DD. They did not wait long. DD’s next pitch was a solidly hit ground ball to the right of the Yankees’ second baseman. As Jason reached for the ball, his brother, Jack, ran to cover second base. There was no time to argue over where each of them needed to be. Jason fielded

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the ball and flipped it to his brother at second base beating the runner from first by two steps. One out. Then, remembering how they “turned two” at practice this past week, Jack fired a strike to Wally at first base. It was close, but the umpire called the batter out. A double play. Inning over.

Following the double play, a frowning DD walked off the field. After that last pitch, he had felt a twinge in his throwing arm.

Charlie noticed DD’s expression and followed him into the dugout where his son plopped down on the weathered bench. “You OK, son?”

Closing his eyes, DD wrestled with what to tell his father. He did NOT want to come out of this game! Hoping his arm just needed a few minutes of rest he looked up at his father with a determined look. “I’m just a little tired. I’ve got another inning in me.”

“OK, son,” said Charlie. “You’ve pitched a great game. If you are having a problem please let me know.”

“I will, Dad.”

With the Yankees still down 1-0 in the bottom of the fifth inning, Gus decided it was time for a pep talk. While the Red Sox warmed up on the field, Gus gathered his team just outside the dugout.

“First off, I want to tell you how proud of all of you Coach Dusenberry and I are! Those Red Sox are wondering if they’re playing the REAL Yankees from New York!”

Laughter erupted from the kids….and the parents in the stands. Gus was talking extra loud so everyone could hear. The laughter was exactly what Gus had hoped for.

“We’ve still got two at-bats left. Remember what we worked on at practice! Go to bat knowing that you can do it! Coach Dusenberry and I ask that you just do your best for the team.” While Gus said that he looked over at Charlie. “That’s all anyone can ask of you. Do your best!”

Gus then called everyone to gather around him. He put his hand up signaling the team to reach out and put their hands to his. “On three! One, two, three!” With that, the team yelled “YANKEES ROCK!” The parents cheered as the team excitedly returned to the dugout.

“Do we have the best coaches, or what?” said Cleon Jones’ dad. This time several parents agreed.

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Gus joined Charlie who was leaning on the fence outside the team’s dugout. Charlie greeted his father with a smile. “I didn’t know you could give that kind of speech. I’m impressed.”

Gus returned the smile. “I didn’t think it was in me either. I guess I’m learning new things about myself!”

“So, what’s the problem?” asked Bill Kirk of his ground crew. Kirk had walked back to the airport field to find two of his crew in the basket working on the burner.

“We’re not sure, boss,” said one of the crew. “The burner isn’t responding to the proper commands.”

“What’s that mean?”

Kirk and the two crewmen turned to see Jaycee Phipps outside the basket. Apparently he was listening in to the conversation.

“It means simply that the burner isn’t producing the proper amount of flame on command,” answered Kirk. He explained further. “There’s no guarantee that the correct amount of flame, and thus heat, would be there to keep the balloon in the air.”

“That means we would not be able to control its altitude,” added the crewman.

A disappointed frown appeared on Jaycee’s face. “Can you fix it?”

Kirk shrugged. “We won’t know until we get it back to the shop. It may just be a clogged propane line.”

“You mean we aren’t flying today?” moaned Jaycee.

“I’m sorry, Jaycee. It’s unsafe. We’ll try to get you up another time,” said Kirk.

As the men were talking the balloon’s envelope started to slowly collapse. A crewman reached up and wrenched the control to the burner. A few seconds later the flame belched up into the envelope re-inflating it.

“Where’s the rest of my crew?” asked Kirk as he looked around the tarmac of the small airport. “We’ve got to take the balloon down.”

“Boss,” said a crewman, “They headed over to the snack room when you left to check on the weather.”

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“You two go find them,” ordered Kirk. As asked, the two crewmen climbed out of the basket and started walking to a nearby building. Kirk was about to climb into the basket when his cellphone rang.

“Hello?” Kirk spoke into his phone for a brief time and then put it back into his pocket. Kirk looked around the tarmac and still did not see any of his crew. His eyes settled on a despondent Jaycee.

“Jaycee, you are about to get your first command of a balloon.”

Perking up at this, Jaycee was all ears.

“I’ve got to go to the tower. They say they need to speak to me. I want you to climb into the basket and keep the balloon’s envelope inflated enough so it doesn’t collapse on the basket. Can you do that?”

In response, an excited Jaycee climbed into the basket. “Show me what to do.”

“It’s easy.” Kirk pointed to the burner handle. Since the propane was on, a small pilot flame could be seen. Kirk pulled on the lever and waited for a few seconds. After that, a flame belched up several feet towards the bottom of the envelope. As before, the envelope inflated just enough to keep it from collapsing.

“It’s not responding quickly enough to fly, but the burner should burn enough to keep the envelope up. Think you can handle it for a minute?”

“Sure!” came the quick response.

“The tethers will keep you on the ground. My crew should be back any second.” With that said, Kirk leaned back out of the basket and headed for the tower which loomed over them.

Jaycee was thrilled. This curbed his disappointment somewhat from not being able to fly. He looked up into the balloon’s envelope and wished he could just take off into that beautiful sky. About a minute later, Jaycee noticed the envelope was sagging a bit. He decided to fire up the burner as he was instructed.

“Here goes!”

Jaycee pulled on the burner’s lever. Nothing happened. He had expected the loud blast of the flame to erupt at his command. Jaycee turned off the lever and then turned it back on again. Still nothing.

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Thinking he had not pushed the lever hard enough, Jaycee yanked on the lever a bit harder. This time the flame roared up and the balloon’s envelope started to inflate again. Jaycee watched until he thought the envelope had filled enough. It was time to turn the burner off. He reached up and yanked the lever back down to the off position.

The flame did not go off. In fact, it seemed to roar even louder and higher! Jaycee again turned the burner’s lever up and down to the off position. The flame kept burning. While Jaycee kept trying to shut off the burner, the balloon’s envelope filled to capacity and started to lift off the ground. It didn’t go far because the three tethers connected to the basket pulled taut.

What Jaycee didn’t know was that there was really only ONE tether properly tied to the basket. Before the ground crew left for their snack, they had anticipated their boss would order them to take the balloon down and had started to untie the tethers. Now, that one tether was straining to hold the balloon on the earth.

With the roar of the burner, Jaycee did not hear the lone tether break and fall away. With a sudden jerk, the balloon became airborne.

Jaycee’s solo flight as a balloon pilot was underway.

Walking up to the plate in the bottom of the fifth inning, the Yankees’ Cleon Jones glanced at the scoreboard in center field. It still showed the Red Sox leading 1-0. He hoped to change that. Digging his back right foot into the brown dirt of the field, Cleon took his warmup swings as he looked to the pitcher’s mound. There stood Zeph Yarnell with his ever-present smirk on his face.

When the first pitch from Zeph neared the plate it missed its mark and the umpire called it ball one. What Cleon noticed was that the ball didn’t seem as fast as the first time he faced Zeph in the second inning. Maybe Mr. Smirky Face was getting tired?

At that moment, Zeph was thinking the same thing. This time around the Yankees were taking a greater effort from him. Last time he was able to strike out several of the Yankees on just three pitches. They couldn’t touch him. But, this time, something had changed. His opponent was fouling off pitches. They even got some hits off of him. Zeph realized he would have to bear down a little harder to win.

With that in mind, Zeph unleased another fastball towards home plate. This time the ball crossed the heart of the plate and Cleon Jones was ready for it. With a hard swing, Cleon’s bat connected with the ball that immediately rose high into the air. Cleon thought the ball was

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going to leave the park. So did many of the Yankees as they stood up to watch the flight of the ball. Charlie and Gus tried to will the ball over the fence.

The ball soared towards right field. It was very high. The Red Sox outfielder knew the ball had a chance to leave the park so he ran straight to the fence. With Cleon confidently beginning his home run trot down the first baseline the outfielder continued to track the ball which was now coming down to earth. Not giving up, the outfielder ran to the fence and jumped as high as he could.

The ball smacked into his glove.

A loud groan emerged from the Yankees and their supporters in the stands. An equally loud cheer rose from Red Sox parents and players as Cleon stopped dead in his tracks as the smiling right fielder held his glove into the air in triumph.

Charlie and Gus visibly sagged their shoulders in disappointment as they watched the great catch. When Cleon returned to the dugout, both coaches slapped him on the back and congratulated him on his effort.

One out in the bottom of the fifth.

Things picked up for the Yankees, however. Mitzi Wright was next up for the Yanks. Before she walked up to the plate, Gus pulled her aside and in a low voice reminded her of what they had worked on in practice. Gus and Charlie had gone over their roster and tried to find a strength for each person. Mitzi’s was obviously her speed.

The slim left-handed batter took her place in the batter’s box and was greeted again by Sam Green, the Red Sox catcher. “Hello, Mitzi. How many pitches do I have to catch before you strike out again?’

“Sam, you are still a jerk,” replied Mitzi. “I’ll be coming around to say hello to you real soon.”

“Sure you will,” said Sam sarcastically as he gave the fastball sign to his pitcher. As he readied himself to receive the pitch from Zeph he noticed Mitzi squaring around in the batter’s box. What was this?

For the past two practice sessions, Gus had worked with Mitzi on bunting. It seemed to be a lost art in today’s professional ball, but back in Gus’ day, every player was required to know how to do it. As bad as Mitzi was in swinging the bat, she seemed to catch on to what Gus was teaching.

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“To bunt, Mitzi, you need to square around and practically face the pitcher,” Gus had tutored. “Lower your eyes to bat level so you can move the bat up and down and keep an eye on the pitch. Put your left hand about halfway down the bat. Do not push the bat at the ball! You want to pull back on it a little to deaden it.”

It startled Zeph to see Mitzi square around and face him. He was so startled he actually eased up on his pitch and this helped her. Mitzi crouched as she had been taught and pulled back slightly on the bat as the ball made contact with it. The ball bounded slowly down the first baseline as Mitzi flew out of the batter’s box.

“Go, Mitzi, go!” screamed Gus.

The only Red Sox player that had a chance to field the ball was Zeph. The heavy boy heaved himself off the mound to chase the ball down. But, by the time he reached it, Mitzi had already blown past first base.

“That’s my girl!” beamed Gus as her excited teammates yelled their approval.

In little league, base runners could not take a “lead” off the bag. They had to stay on the bag until the pitched ball crossed home plate. There was only 60-feet between the bases. But, as Mitzi planted her foot on first base she yelled a challenge to the Red Sox catcher.

“Hey, Sam! Remember what I told you!” With that, Mitzi pointed to second base.

Zeph stood on the pitcher’s mound still sucking up air to recover from his chasing Mitzi’s bunted ball. The tying run was on first base now and for the first time this season, he felt some pressure. That pressure seemed to ease up, however, as he saw who was batting next for the Yankees.

Tommy Waldrip, who bullies liked to call ‘the drip,’ had just finished talking to Gus in the on-deck area. Like Mitzi, Gus and Charlie tried to work with Tommy who was terrified of being hit by a thrown ball. Gus had come up with an idea and now they watched to see if it would work.

As usual, Tommy stood as far from home plate as he could and still be in the batter’s box. Zeph smiled and lobbed his first pitch right down the middle of the plate for strike one. What he didn’t see was what Mitzi did. As soon as Zeph’s pitch hit Sam’s catcher’s glove she was off and running. To his credit, Sam was watching out for the steal attempt and jumped up and fired a good throw to his second baseman.

It didn’t matter. Mitzi’s speed was too much. She slid into the bag ahead of Sam’s throw. Safe called the umpire.

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“Hey, Sam!” Mitzi called as she stood and brushed the dirt off her uniform. “I’m not staying here long!”

Charlie walked to the third-base coach’s box and tapped Gus on the shoulder. “Did you give her the steal sign?”

“Nope,” answered Gus. “I just told her to do her thing.”

And she did just that. Zeph’s next pitch to Tommy was also a strike. This time, the Red Sox catcher quickly jumped to his feet and was ready to throw it to third base. Mitzi seemed to turn and walk calmly back to second base. Seeing this, Sam made an easy throwback to his pitcher. That’s when Mitzi made her move. As the lazy throw made its way back to Zeph, Mitzi reversed her course and headed to third base. A surprised Sam called to Zeph to throw to third base, but the startled pitcher never had a chance. Speed won out again.

“Well, I’ll be darned!” said Charlie. Gus looked over this right shoulder at Charlie and smiled. “Now,” Gus added, “We’ve got to get her home.”

Whistling to get Tommy’s attention, Gus went through a series of signs. One of Gus’ hand movements was specifically designed for Tommy. The boy nodded his head at his coach and pushed his black glasses up further on his nose. Swallowing down his fear, Tommy stepped into the batter’s box.

“Don’t worry, Tommy,” chided Sam. “This will be all over in a second.”

Not saying a word, Tommy took his expected spot as far from home plate as possible. Smiling again, Sam didn’t even bother sending his pitcher a signal. He just held his glove up over the plate.

A confident Zeph stared at his catcher’s target and was already counting on a third strike and a second out. The ‘drip’ wasn’t going to hit him. But, as Zeph began his windup, something unexpected happened! Tommy jumped TOWARDS the plate. Tommy moved so close he practically hovered over the plate. The move was so fast and mind-blowing, Zeph stopped in the middle of his windup and held the ball. That was a no-no. You can’t stop your windup with runners on base.

“Balk!” yelled the umpire who moved from behind the catcher to point out towards the mound. He then motioned to third base for Mitzi to come home. As she slowly crossed home plate she stopped in front of Billy. “See, that didn’t take so long, did it?” Giggling, Mitzi patted Tommy’s helmet. “Nice job, Tommy, you can open your eyes.” The game was now tied 1-1.

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The Yankees went wild in the dugout. Their coaches shook hands. Susan didn’t care that anyone saw her kiss her husband on the field. Parents shouted in glee as the stands rocked. More than one person was wondering if they were going to witness a little league miracle.

Things calmed down quickly when Tommy Waldrip took the next pitch for strike three. He was welcomed as a hero anyway in his team’s dugout. Out number three was harder for the Red Sox to get when big Wally Wilson fouled off five pitches before flying out deep to left field. Gus had worked with Wally in keeping his arms extended so he could more easily swing the bat. As Wally came back to the dugout he smiled at Gus. “I think I’m getting the hang of it, coach!”

“Yes, you are, Wally,” agreed Gus.

Susan calmed everyone down in the dugout and made sure they knew where they were playing on the field as the team headed out for the top of the sixth inning. Gus and Charlie were talking strategy outside the dugout entrance and didn’t notice the small figure that had approached them.

“Coach Dusenberry?”

Charlie looked down and there stood Skinny Mickelson decked out in his Yankees’ uniform.

“Billy!” exclaimed Charlie as he knelt down to face the young boy. “It’s good to see you!”

“If it’s alright with you,” stammered Skinny, “I’d like to come back to the team.”

“You were always welcome,” answered Charlie. As he was talking to Skinny, Charlie scanned the stands and saw Skinny’s smiling father. “Have a seat on the bench.”

Skinny nodded and walked to the dugout entrance and was greeted by Susan who gave him a hug. The Yankees were now all together.

The game moved into the final inning.

Jaycee Phipps was not getting the ‘hang of it.’ While Cleon Jones was lamenting the great catch that robbed him of a homer, Jaycee was facing a crisis of his own. A crisis that just might be life-threatening. The runaway balloon in which he was the sole passenger (or pilot if you may) was headed straight up. The balloon was not rising quickly, yet.

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Jaycee kept yanking the burner’s lever to the ‘on’ and ‘off’ positions. The flame would sometimes nearly turn off and other times would roar back to life. The flame, however, would not completely turn off which kept the balloon slowly rising. One good thing was that the wind was very light so the balloon was moving very slowly to the south.

When the balloon was about forty feet off the ground the crew returned to the tarmac to see what was happening. Jaycee looked down to see the crew wildly gesturing and yelling at him. The noise of the burner drowned out what the crew was saying. Jaycee did notice that several of the crew were pointing madly at something. He turned his gaze in the direction they were pointing.

Jaycee’s eyes widened as he realized the balloon was headed straight at the airport’s tower. The tower stood about 80 feet tall and sported all sorts of antennas on its roof. A crash into the tower could tip the basket over and spill its passenger out. That wouldn’t be very good for Jaycee.

At that moment, Bill Kirk stood in the tower and had just finished telling the tower’s weatherman that he had aborted the flight due to the burner problem.

“It’s just as well,” said the forecaster. “The cold front is moving a lot quicker than we predicted. It’ll really kick up the winds from the north soon.”

The two men were interrupted by the air traffic controller who was on the north side of the tower. “I thought you aborted your flight today, Bill.”

Turning to face the controller, Bill was about to say he had when the top part of his balloon came into view. He raced to the north side of the tower and watched with horror as the balloon, his very expensive balloon, slowly rose off the ground.

“I think it’s headed right for us!” added the controller.

In the balloon’s basket, Jaycee stood mesmerized as he watched the tower get closer. He tried to remember what he learned in his pilot’s class. There must be something he could do to slow the ascent. If there was something he could do, it wouldn’t come to him. Fear was blocking out any rational thought at the moment.

Walking around the basket, Jaycee hoped he’d see something to jog his memory. That’s when he noticed the ropes. There were two tethers still attached to the basket. They were dangling below the basket. Of course, he remembered! These ropes, or tethers, always hung below the basket so the ground crew could grab them and help pull the balloon to the ground. How could this information help him?

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Bill Kirk raced to the ladder outside the tower. It led up to the roof where a cluster of differently shaped antennas was crowded together. As he climbed he saw that the balloon, with a frantic Jaycee in the basket, was very close to the tower. If he could snare one of the tether ropes and tie it to something, he might be able to end this. When he reached the roof he saw the balloon was almost right on top of him.

It was going to be close thought Jaycee. The bottom of the basket would just clear the antennas if the rate of the climb didn’t change. Then he saw Kirk climb onto the roof and weave his way through the antennas. Jaycee wondered what he was up to. Then, he remembered the ropes he discovered hanging down from the basket. Was that what Kirk had in mind?

Looking for a place to brace himself, Kirk found a low railing and grabbed hold of it. As the balloon cruised overhead, he leaned out as far as he dared. One of the tethers came within reach and he was able to grab it. His weight alone would not do the trick, of course. He had to try to wrap the tether around the railing he was leaning on. He would have only one shot at it. That’s when fate played a cruel trick on him.

The cold front predicted to reach Texoma that afternoon arrived at that moment. Instead of a slowly drifting balloon, winds out of the north kicked up a gust of 35 miles-per-hour causing the balloon to pick up dramatic speed. The tether in Kirk’s hand nearly yanked him off the tower and left him with a bad rope burn as it ripped out of his grasp.

When the winds hit the balloon, Jaycee was forced to grab onto the side of the basket to keep from falling. He saw Kirk waving at him and cupping his hands as if he was yelling something at him. The burner cut off for a second and he thought he heard Kirk yell something about a parachute.

Jaycee watched as the tower grew smaller and smaller.

DD knew he was in trouble. His arm was really starting to ache and his throws to home plate were getting harder and harder to control. After allowing a single to the first batter he faced in the top of the sixth inning, he was able to induce the next two hitters to hit harmless fly balls that Mitzi easily caught. But after the second out, DD walked the next two hitters to load the bases. The go-ahead run was now on third base, just 60-feet away. DD watched as his father called time out and approached him on the pitcher’s mound.

“Problems?” asked Gus.

“Dad, my arm is killing me. I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can pitch anymore.”

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Charlie put his arm on his son’s shoulder and gave it a slight squeeze. “You’ve done a great job. Time for us to find someone else to carry the load.”

Motioning to the umpire and Gus to join him near home plate, Charlie told them his pitcher was injured and he had to send in someone else. Gus reminded the ump that because it was an injury, the new pitcher could get some extra warm-up time. When that was agreed to, the umpire walked over to the Red Sox manager to tell him what was up.

“Dad,” asked Charlie. “What do we do? Should we let Grego pitch?”

Gus didn’t say anything for a moment as he considered Charlie’s question. “No,” he said as he turned to look at the Yankees’ dugout. “We have another pitcher on the bench, don’t we?”

“Skinny?” asked Charlie. “He hasn’t practiced and he had a real bad time of it last time he pitched. I just don’t know…”

“Let me talk to him,” asked Gus. “Stall the umpire until we get this figured out.”

Skinny Mickelson was sitting on the bench when Gus walked over to him. Before he said anything, Gus locked eyes with Skinny’s father in the stands. Danny Mickelson felt he knew what Gus wanted to ask his son. He nodded his approval.

“Skinny, the team needs you,” Gus began. “Do you think you can help us?”

“Do what?” asked the boy.

“DD’s hurt. We need a pitcher to get one out.’

“Me?” stuttered Skinny. “I don’t know if you saw me pitch last time. I was pretty bad.”

Gus put his hand on Skinny’s shoulder. “What if I go out to the mound with you and give you some tips? If you don’t like what I have to offer, you can come back here and sit on the bench. I think you will be fine. What do you say?”

Looking for his father in the stands behind the dugout, Skinny felt unsure of what he should do. After a moment he located his dad and saw him smiling and giving him the thumbs up.

“My dad says I should do it,” said Skinny.

“This time it’s not what your dad wants, it’s what you want to do,” countered Gus.

Pausing a moment to think, Skinny looked up at Gus and said, “If you come with me, I’ll give it a try.”

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“All right, son,” responded Gus. “Let’s go.”

Skinny and Gus marched to the mound where Charlie and DD were standing. Gus looked at both of them and said, “Skinny is ready to give it a shot. I promised I’d give him a few tips and then let him make up his mind if he’s ready. OK?”

Without hesitation, DD walked up to Skinny and handed him the ball. “You got this.”

Skinny took the ball and headed to the pitcher’s mound. As he did so, he looked at Gus. “Mr. Baxter, what do you want me to do?”

Smiling, Gus started to talk to Skinny and go through motions of throwing the ball. While this was happening, Charlie and DD walked off the field to the dugout. When the umpire looked his way, Charlie just motioned out to the mound where Gus was still tutoring Skinny. Gus would make the call.

“What do you think he’s saying to Skinny?” asked Susan.

“Something I could never say,” answered Charlie.

After a few minutes, the umpire approached Gus and told him it was long enough for the new pitcher to warm up. Gus nodded and gave the ump the official changes. Skinny in, DD out.

Before leaving the mound, Gus leaned down to the new pitcher. “Remember, Skinny, very little windup. No head movement. Keep your eye on Grego’s glove. Just bring the heat.”

Still a little shaken, Skinny told his coach he would try. As he watched Gus walk away, Skinny went over in his mind what he had been told. The bases were loaded, so he would have only one shot at this. Swallowing down some of his fear, Skinny got ready to face the next batter.

The next batter for the Sox was the right fielder who had robbed Cleon of a home run. As he got ready to hit, yells of support for him rang from the stands and the Red Sox dugout. There was one person, however, who had only one person he wanted to yell at. Zeph Yarnell leaned out of his dugout while facing the pitcher’s mound. “

“You’re the guy who gave up! What a loser! We’ve got this easy!”

Skinny heard Zeph and stood a moment listening to the rant. He was looking at the ground and having second thoughts when Grego ran out from home plate. “Skinny, don’t listen to that jerk! What counts is what your team thinks of you. We’ve got your back!” Slapping his pitcher on the back, Grego added, “You can do this.”

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Just last night, Skinny and his dad had a long talk about baseball. His father had apologized for pushing him too hard. Skinny had told his dad he was sorry too and that he missed playing. Both agreed to give it another shot. Skinny never thought that shot would come so soon.

Steeling himself, Skinny looked at Grego. “I’m throwing nothing but fastballs. Give me a good target.”

“You got it!” said Grego as he ran back to his position behind home plate.

The left-handed pitcher placed his left foot on the pitcher’s rubber and took a deep breath. Mr. Baxter had told him no more fancy windup. No looking anywhere but at his catcher’s glove. It was to be a simple game of catch, but with a little mustard on the throw. Here goes, he thought.

The umpire pointed at Skinny and the game resumed. Without hardly any windup, Skinny threw his first pitch. The ball missed its mark on the outside corner of the plate. Ball one.

“He can’t find the plate!” continued Zeph from his dugout. “They might as well give us a run!”

On the other side of the field, Susan stood next to Charlie and Gus. “Does he ever shut up?”

“Not here and not in class,” responded Charlie.

When Skinny retrieved the ball from Grego, he got ready for the next pitch. Even though the pitch was called a ball, Skinny felt good about the throw. He decided to throw a bit harder this time. Again, with little movement, Skinny sent in the next pitch. The batter took a hefty swing, but he missed. One ball, one strike.

“How could you not hit that?” bellowed Zeph to his teammate at-bat.

Skinny heard Zeph and it made him smile. So, he’s an equal opportunity jerk to both him and his teammates. Not feeling singled-out anymore, Skinny’s confidence grew. He decided this next pitch would be thrown even harder.

Grego put up his glove and held it steady for Skinny. In came the pitch and the batter didn’t offer at it. BAM! The loud noise of ball hitting glove rang out. Strike two. Gus looked at Charlie and gave him a thumbs up. “It’s over for the batter,” Gus predicted.

PG. 119 TGACD R. ZEIS

Gus’ prediction was true. Skinny’s next pitch was the fastest one yet. BAM! A swing and a miss and the top of the sixth inning was over! As Skinny walked off the field, Grego ran up to him and gave him a big hug. Before he reached the dugout, all of his teammates did the same thing, including his coaches.

“I did it, Mr. Baxter. Thanks,” Skinny told Gus.

“Yes, YOU did it. And don’t ever forget it.” Gus replied.

Standing behind the fence at the back of the dugout, Danny Mickelson stood waiting for his son. Not a word was said. The tears in both the eyes of the father and son were all that was needed.

Once again, Charlie gathered his young players around him outside the dugout.

“This is it!” yelled Charlie. “One run wins it!”

The Yankees gave a cheer and listened as Susan told them the batting order.

Cleon Jones’ father was standing up with several other parents in the stands rejoicing in the great game that had unfolded. He was about to tell everyone in earshot again how he knew from the beginning that Charlie was a great coach, when he looked to the north.

“Is that a balloon over there?” he asked.

Several people looked to where Mr. Jones was pointing. Yes, they agreed. It was a balloon and it was not very high in the sky. They also noted it was headed their way.

While Mohammad Ator readied himself to be the first batter for the Yankees in the bottom of the sixth, and the last inning, Jaycee Phipps frantically looked for options. The balloon he was in had picked up speed thanks to a nasty wind out of the north. It was also going up and then down as the burner above the basket kept turning on and off on its own. Jaycee felt as if a giant invisible hand had grabbed the balloon and was playing with it.

Looking out from the basket, Jaycee could see he was fast approaching the little league fields he had seen on his first flight. It looked like a lot of people were there and he just might go right over them.

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Zeph Yarnell finished his warmup pitches and stood waiting on the mound for the first batter. In his mind, this 1-1 game was going to go extra innings. He was going to hit next inning and end this thing. All he had to do was get three outs from these lousy Yankees. No problem.

Yarnell was waiting for Mohammad to finish his conversation with Gus who had his arm around him. “You told me you are a student of the game and wanted to learn more, right?” said Gus. Mohammad shook his head yes. “OK, tell me what you have learned watching that guy out there pitch today.”

Mohammad stood thinking for a moment. “He likes to scare people by throwing at them, or nearly at them. Then, when the batter moves away from the plate because they are scared, he throws strikes.”

“That’s right,” agreed Gus. “So, use what you learned.” And with that, Gus walked away leaving Mohammad to stand there thinking about what was said. He kept formulating a strategy as he walked to the batter’s box.

“It’s about time!” yelled an impatient Zeph from the pitcher’s mound as Mohammad got ready. Wasting no more time, Zeph unleashed his number one weapon, the ZEPHER! The ball sizzled through the air and headed near Mohammad’s belt buckle. At the last second, Mohammad jumped out of the way with the ball missing him by an inch.

“Boy, that was close, huh?” giggled Zeph from the mound. Without a word, Mohammad moved back into the batter’s box.

Bill Kirk tore down the road in his pickup truck. He kept glancing out his windshield to keep track of the runaway balloon. The wind had died for a moment so he was finally able to get ahead of it. Pulling off the road into a field, Kirk jumped out of the truck after grabbing a bullhorn from the back seat.

Kirk guessed the balloon was about a hundred feet off the ground as it headed towards him. Waving his right arm back and forth, Kirk yelled into the bullhorn.

“Use the parachute valve! Use the parachute valve!”

Jaycee looked down from the basket and watched as someone started frantically waving at him. The man had a bullhorn! What was he saying? Something about a parachute? Jaycee leaned out of the basket and strained to hear what the man was saying.

“Use the parachute valve!” The words finally reached Jaycee as the balloon passed directly over the man he now recognized as Bill Kirk. Of course! That’s what he was trying to

PG, 121 TGACD R. ZEIS

remember! In pilot class, the instructor told him about a parachute valve that could be used to lower the balloon. The valve was actually the circular portion of the balloon at the very top. Looking up into the balloon’s envelope past the blowing flame of the burner, Jaycee could see what he had missed before. A rope led to that part of the balloon. The more you pulled on the rope, the more the balloon’s top opened and allowed the hot air to escape. The less hot air, the more the balloon would sink.

Glancing back, Jaycee saw Kirk rush back to his pickup truck and pull out of the field. Turning around to the south side of the basket, he saw he was almost to the packed little league field. Looking past the baseball diamond he noted a small cleared area. That would be his landing area. He hoped.

Jaycee reached for the rope controlling the parachute valve.

With the baseball game on the line, everyone’s attention was focused on the drama on the field. The count on Mohammad was now two balls and no strikes. Zeph had thrown another one of his ZEPHERS that had whistled past Mohammad’s knees. Once again, Mohammad had ignored the snickers that headed his way from the mound and had simply stepped back up to the plate.

The next pitch was the one, thought Mohammad. Zeph could not afford to miss again and move the pitch count to three balls and no strikes. Zeph would not want to risk walking the lead-off batter in the last inning. This pitch would strike the heart of the plate. Mohammad braced himself as the next throw came his way.

“It’s working!” screeched a joyful Jaycee. Even though the burner was still belching its heated flame, the top of the balloon was opening as Jaycee yanked on the parachute valve rope.

The balloon began a rapid descent as it passed over the little league parking lot.

Mohammad figured right. Zeph’s pitch was right down the middle. With almost glee, Mohammad swung the bat and managed to hit a high fly ball to center field. Dropping the bat, Mohammad took off for first base.

PG. 122 TGACD R. ZEIS

The balloon continued to lose altitude. Jaycee saw that Bill Kirk and some of his ground crew had figured out what he had planned to do. They were gathering on the other side of the little league field to hopefully snag the balloon. Jaycee said a silent prayer. He had to keep the balloon in the air to clear the little league field and then come down fast to land in the field on the other side.

As Jaycee passed over the baseball stands he saw that several of the people were looking up at him.

Mohammad’s high fly ball was not hit very hard. It should have been an easy out for the competent Red Sox centerfielder. But, he was not watching the ball that was headed directly at him. He was staring at the giant hot air balloon that loomed over the field. In fact, many of the Red Sox defenders were mesmerized at the sight.

Not Mohammad. One thing he had learned about the game of baseball. You ran out every hit ball…no matter what. As his fly ball started to come down to earth, he tore around first base.

Screams from his coach jolted the centerfielder back to the game, but it was too late. Mohammad’s fly ball just missed hitting the fielder in the head! The ball rolled all the way to the centerfield fence.

Mohammad was now roaring around second base.

Zeph Yarnell tore his eyes from the balloon which now had cleared the outfield fence. He watched in horror as the batter neared third base. “Throw the ball home you idiot!” he screamed at the centerfielder who had just reached the ball.

Standing in the third-base coach’s box, Gus was windmilling his arms urging Mohammad to round third base and head home as the throw from the panicked centerfielder neared home plate.

It was now or never! As soon as the balloon had cleared the little league’s outfield fence, Jaycee yanked open the parachute valve as far as it could go. As luck would have it, the burner stopped at the same moment and the balloon dropped quickly.

The balloon was still moving fairly fast due to the winds and the basket hit the ground hard and started to bounce over the ground. Jaycee hung on for dear life as the ground crew raced to grab the trailing tethers. After about a fifty-foot struggle, the crew was able to halt the

PG. 123 TGACD R. ZEIS

runaway and bring it to a complete stop. The balloon’s envelope fluttered and then collapsed on the ground.

Jaycee’s first solo flight had ended.

Mohammad’s helmet flew off his head as he neared home plate. Standing over the plate was the Red Sox catcher waiting for the centerfielder’s throw. In practice, Mohammad had been taught to never slide headfirst into home plate because it was dangerous. Mohammad decided to ignore that lesson.

Launching himself headfirst with arms extended, Mohammad reached for the plate as the catcher received the throw from the outfield. The brown dirt blew into the air as Mohammad’s hand touched the plate and the catcher’s glove came down fast on this back. All eyes turned to the umpire who stood over the two boys who now were lying on their backs waiting for the crucial call.

Despite the spectacle on the other side of the outfield fence, players and parents stood holding their breath. Gus, Charlie, and Susan held on to each other and waited for what seemed forever.

“SAFE!” yelled the umpire. Mohammad leaped off the ground with his hands in the air. His teammates flew out of the dugout and mobbed him.

The game was over. The Yankees won 2-1!

Bill Kirk ran to the now stopped balloon basket and helped a roughed up Jaycee climb out. Kirk ran his eyes over the stunned man and was glad to see he looked to be in one piece.

“Well, Jaycee,” Kirk said as he smiled. “When do you want to go up again?’

“Not for a long while. Not for a long while,” came the answer.

As the Yankees and their parents celebrated, Tim Blanda, the Red Sox manager, argued with the umpire at home plate. He kept gesturing towards the downed balloon over the centerfield fence. Charlie kept hearing Blanda say ‘it was no fair’ several times. The umpire finally walked away telling the Red Sox manager that there was nothing in the rule book concerning hot air balloon near misses.

PG. 124 TGACD R. ZEIS

Charlie asked his team and their parents to move to the outfield and gather around him, Gus, and Susan. Raising his hands to settle everyone down, Charlie began a speech he never thought he would give.

“I want to tell everyone how proud I am for what you did today. I know the season is far from over, but I think we learned several things today. One, if you listen to and learn from the right people, you can do anything.” Charlie paused as he made it a point to stare hard at Gus. “Two, prayer can go a long way.” Again, Charlie turned to look at Gus.

Without saying another word, Charlie held up his hand over his head. His team jumped up and each one of them held up a hand to touch Charlie’s. “On three! One, two, three…”

The gathered crowd then all cheered, “Yankees rule!”

While Susan stayed in the outfield chatting with excited parents, Charlie and Gus walked back to the team’s dugout and started to gather all the gear and put it into the duffel bag.

The two men were quiet as they went about the chore. Finally, Charlie broke the silence. “Dad, thanks.”

Gus put the catcher’s mask into the bag and then looked up at his son. “No, I want to thank you. You’ve given me a gift that will last forever.” Tearing up the two men hugged. Pulling away from his son, Gus said the words he knew he had to say. “You know, I have to go back now.”

Not understanding what those words meant, Charlie replied, “Sure, but just be back in time for the next practice.”

Gus had to look out to the now deserted field. “No, son. I have to go back for good. Your prayer has been answered.” Gus paused a moment. “It seems BOTH of our prayers were answered.”

Choking up, Charlie said, “I don’t understand. The season is not over, we need you. I need you!”

“You don’t need me. You learned something about yourself. You are a good teacher. Just teach those kids…don’t worry so much about coaching them. Teach them!”

Just then, Susan and DD walked into the dugout. “I think we need to celebrate,” suggested Susan. “Mr. Baxter, let’s get something to eat. Our treat! Besides, I’d like to get to

TGACD PG. 125 R. Zeis

know you a little better. We haven’t been able to talk much…you’ve been a bit mysterious.” Susan smiled as she said that last part.

“I don’t think he can,” Charlie told her sadly. “He has somewhere he has to go.”

“Well, maybe tomorrow?” asked Susan.

Gus moved towards Susan and DD. “I’m afraid I have to leave Grande Forkes.”

“Leave?” said DD. “You can’t leave!”

“I’m afraid I have to. My boss has sort of ended my job here.”

“Mr. Baxter, we’ve come to depend on you. Can’t you ask your boss to give you more time here?” pleaded Susan.

Charlie had to smile in spite of himself. “I’m afraid his boss can be quiet demanding. Fair, but demanding.”

“How do you know that?” asked DD.

Gus was quick to answer, “That’s what I told your father.” Then, kneeling down in front of DD, Gus held his arms open wide. “DD, would you mind if I gave you a hug?”

Charlie nodded at DD and the boy walked into Gus’ arms. “Keep up the good work,” Gus told DD. “Listen to your father and mother. And,” he added, “Don’t forget your prayers at night.” With tears in his eyes, Gus released DD and then stood up in front of Susan. She walked to him and held him tightly.

“I’m going to miss you so much!” whispered Gus. “I can’t tell you how much.”

“Mr. Baxter, we will miss you too!” Susan said. “You’ve become family.”

After more hugs, Susan turned to Charlie. “Would you mind if DD and I walked home? We’d like to stop and look at the balloon over there.” Susan pointed at the busy ground crew trying to roll up the balloon’s envelope.

“Sure,” said Charlie, “tell them they might have been the MVP of our game.”

Everyone laughed. After more hugs, Susan and DD left to look at the balloon.

“That was hard to do,” Gus admitted. “You are a lucky man to have those two.”

“I am very lucky,” replied Charlie. “I guess I can’t tell them about you, can I?”

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Gus shrugged and seemed to listen to the quiet of the field. “I think that’s left up to you. That may be a hard one to decide!”

Both men laughed as they finished gathering up the equipment. As the last piece of gear was placed in the duffel bag, not far away, a mist started to form near them.

“Looks like that’s my ride home,” said Gus.

Charlie stared at the mist as it became denser and a glimmer of light could be seen. “Dad, thank Him for me.”

“Charlie, He already has heard you.” With that, Gus moved into the mist. It started to swirl around him and he became hard to see. “I love you, son!” were the last words Charlie heard as a bright light flashed. Then the mist was gone. Charlie stood alone.

“I love you, too, Dad.”

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