Change Up Read online

  “Is that so?” said Mrs. Hennum, still looking doubtful. “Well, we’re looking forward to seeing you play, David.” Turning to Chase, she asked, “Where shall we sit?”

  “Most folks sit over there,” Chase said, indicating the hard metal bleachers along the third-base line. Then, seeing the look of disgust that came over her face, he added, “But I brought you a couple of folding chairs, if you’d prefer . . .”

  “Yes, please,” she said, giving him a smile that was clearly just for show. “And put them over there,” she added, pointing to the first-base line.

  Hmmm. Derek could see that the Hennums felt uncomfortable mixing with the team members and their families. He remembered back to when Dave had first moved to Kalamazoo, and how he, too, had kept himself aloof from everyone, until Derek had finally broken through his standoffishness. Seeing Dave’s parents, Derek could see where Dave got that quality.

  He sure hoped they would warm up to him and his family, the way Dave had.

  Dave, for his part, seemed not to notice the chill in the air at all. He was practically jumping up and down, so eager was he to get out on the mound and start the game.

  Derek hoped that the seventy-five pitches Dave was limited to would be enough for the whole game, but he had his doubts. The Dodgers were a high-scoring team and had worn pitchers out all season.

  Taking grounders at short to warm up, Derek kept glancing over at Dave’s parents, who were seated in their folding chairs along the first-base side, a good distance from all the other family members and friends who had come to cheer both teams on.

  Even so, they leaned in toward each other when they spoke, as if they didn’t want people to overhear them, as if anyone could from that far away.

  Derek couldn’t help wondering what they were saying. They sure weren’t in the same excited mood as everybody else. Maybe they were just tired from their flights, he guessed. Or maybe they didn’t like any sports except golf.

  The game began, and Dave started right in with two of his best fastballs. The Dodgers’ leadoff man swung at and missed both. Then Dave followed up with a nasty changeup, and the hitter, way out in front, whiffed.

  “Woo-hoo!” Derek yelled. “Great job, Dave!”

  Glancing over at Dave’s folks again, he saw them both clapping proudly but politely, as if they were watching a golf tournament or something. Obviously they weren’t baseball fans, but that was no surprise. When he’d first gotten to town, Dave had never played baseball in his life, only golf.

  The next pitch came so fast that Derek was startled when the ball was hit right at him. He fumbled the sharp grounder, a ball he normally would have scooped up with no problem, and by the time he recovered it, there was no chance to nail the runner at first.

  “Rats!” he muttered under his breath, mad at himself for letting his attention wander. Now he’d made an error—only his second of the season, but it couldn’t have come at a worse moment. The Indians needed this game! How could he have let them down like that?

  Now, with a man on first, things got more tense. The runner took off for second on Dave’s 1–0 pitch, and beat the throw to Derek, for a stolen base. When the hitter flied out to right, the runner tagged up and went to third.

  With two out, the cleanup man swung at Dave’s first pitch and dinked a pop fly behind Derek. He raced back to catch it, but it was just far enough away to elude his grasp. The runner scored, and the Dodgers had a 1–0 lead on an unearned run, thanks to Derek’s error.

  He moped back to the bench after Dave struck out the next hitter. “Come on, come on, keep your chin up,” said his dad, clapping him on the shoulder. “It’s still early. We’ll get ’em back.”

  Derek nodded and forced himself to focus on his upcoming at bat.

  His dad was right. Baseball was a game of redemption. You could be struggling one moment, and a hero the next. It was only the first inning, after all. There was a lot of baseball left to play.

  Mason led off with a walk, and right away Derek felt better. Dean singled to center, and Derek came up with men on first and third, and nobody out. “Go get them, Derek!” Vijay yelled. “Hit a home run!”

  “Cream it, Derek!” Dave shouted, clapping, and the rest of the team started whooping it up too. Derek could feel their support and excitement as he stepped to the plate and tapped it with the end of his bat.

  He let one pitch go by for a strike, just to get a feel for the speed of the pitch. Looking out at the field, he saw that the Dodgers, like most teams in the league, were playing him to pull the ball to the left side of the field. So he decided to cross them up by trying to hit it the other way.

  The pitch came in, crowding him inside. Keeping his hands close to his body, Derek brought them through, then forced the bat through the hitting zone. He caught the ball square, and it sizzled through the hole between the second and first basemen, into the outfield, tying the game!

  Reaching first, Derek clapped his hands together in triumph. “There!” he told himself. “At least I got us that run back. Let’s go, Dave!”

  Dave nodded at him and waggled his bat, ready to rumble. He hit a long fly ball to left that was caught, but Dean at third tagged up and scored to give the Indians the lead, 2–1.

  Gary was the next man up. Mr. Jeter had moved him up to fifth in the order because he was hitting the ball so well lately. Sure enough, Gary smacked a base hit down the left-field line, scoring Derek for the team’s third run!

  “Attaway, Gary!” Derek screamed, pointing at his teammate and clapping for him. Gary tipped his cap in response, nodding as if he’d expected nothing less from himself.

  On the next pitch Gary shocked everyone, most of all his teammates, by stealing second base, something he could never have done earlier in the season. He’d definitely gotten himself into better shape playing ball, just as his mom had intended when she’d forced him to participate in Little League.

  Now it was Gary’s turn to point at Derek. “Oh yeah!” he said, nodding cockily. “Now who’s a speed demon?”

  Derek laughed and clapped his hands as he shook his head in wonder. Was this the same Gary he’d always known and been annoyed by?

  “Sheesh!” he said to Vijay, who was laughing and clapping too. “Can you believe him?”

  “No way!” Vijay replied. “It’s a real miracle!”

  Tito struck out, but Paul bounced one over the pitcher’s head and beat out the throw to first. Gary, who had reached third, just kept going and made it home before the startled first baseman realized what was happening.

  By the end of the first inning, it was 4–1, Indians, and Derek and his teammates were determined to make that lead stand.

  The score remained the same through the end of the fourth inning. Both teams put men on base, but the pitchers held firm, and the fielders made some great plays behind them.

  In the top of the fifth, Dave struck out the first batter. But now he’d reached his pitch limit. Mr. Jeter walked out to the mound and took the ball from him, signaling to third base for Jonathan to come pitch the rest of the game.

  Dave went to third, and Derek high-fived him. “Great going,” he said. “Your folks’ll be really proud of you.”

  “Thanks,” said Dave, glancing over at them and waving. They waved back, but they didn’t seem to know what was really going on in the game, or even whether their son had done well or not. Derek wondered if they knew the rules of baseball at all.

  It quickly became obvious that Jonathan didn’t have his best stuff today. He walked the first two guys he faced, and then gave up a double and a homer. Before he’d even gotten an out, the Indians were suddenly trailing, 5–4!

  “Don’t worry,” Derek called out to him. “Just throw it over, and we’ll take care of the rest!”

  But Jonathan issued two more walks. The Dodgers’ cleanup hitter came to the plate, swinging his bat like he wanted to smash something with it.

  Derek exchanged worried glances with Dave over at third. Jonathan’s fi
rst pitch was creamed, but luckily, it fell just foul, with Vijay desperately scrambling for it.

  The next pitch was in the dirt, but the hitter laid off it. Two balls later, with the count 3–1, Jonathan threw one over the heart of the plate. The batter swung for all he was worth—and hit a screaming bouncer to Derek’s right.

  Derek lunged to grab it on one hop. Bouncing back up, he flung the ball to Dave, who stepped on third, then fired his best fastball to first base, just nipping the runner for the double play to end the inning!

  They’d staved off total disaster, and now ran back to the bench to cheers from their teammates and coaches. But Derek knew the battle was far from won.

  The Indians had only six outs to get a run back and tie the game. Time was running out on their season, and it was now or never if they wanted to make the playoffs.

  The Indians’ first two hitters both grounded out, and things were looking bleak.

  Derek came to the plate, telling himself to be patient and wait for his pitch, and not try to do too much with it. The team needed a base runner more than anything else, and Derek, while he had some power, was not really a home run hitter.

  With the count 2–2, he fouled off three straight pitches, then sent a line drive over the second baseman’s head for a single. Rounding the bag, he clapped his hands together so hard that it stung. “Yesss!” he cried.

  Dave was next. He took the first two pitches. The second one was high and got away from the catcher. Derek wasted no time cruising into second on the wild pitch.

  Dave made contact on the next pitch and hit a fly ball to shallow center. The shortstop, second baseman, and center fielder all yelled “I got it!” But none of them did. It dropped in for a single, and Derek, who had had to hold at second in case the ball had been caught, slid into third after the ball fell to the ground.

  First and third, two men out, and Gary came to the plate. Funny, thought Derek. For the first half of the season, he would have dreaded seeing Gary come to bat in a situation like this.

  But now everything was different. Gary was fitter than he’d ever been, and he’d been schooled in hitting by the best coach Derek had ever known.

  All that hard work had to pay off. It just had to!

  Derek clapped his hands and leaned toward home, one foot on the bag. “Let’s go, Gar!” he shouted.

  Gary gave him a nod and waggled the bat over his shoulder. In came the pitch. . . .

  CRACK!

  The ball sailed into the outfield, and the center fielder took off after it, but he had no chance. Derek and Dave both scored, and Gary wound up on third base, huffing and puffing but clapping his hands in triumph. “Woo-hoo!” he yelled back at his teammates, who were yelling the same thing at him.

  The next man struck out, but now the Indians had a one-run lead. All they had to do was keep it for three more outs, and they were on their way to the playoffs!

  “Derek!” called his dad. “Take the ball. You’re pitching. Jonathan, take over at short.”

  Derek’s heart sank, but only for a moment. He remembered his dad’s telling him to be the best teammate he could be, no matter what job the coach gave him. His job now was to get three outs without giving up a run. And he was going to give it everything he had.

  The Dodgers were good hitters, especially against the fastball. Derek started them out with slow changeups, just like the ones he’d taught Dave to throw. Mixing in the occasional fastball off the plate, he managed to strike out the first hitter and get the next to hit a grounder right back to him for the second out.

  One more man, and it’s over, he told himself.

  Derek got strike one on a changeup, then tried to sneak a fastball by the hitter. . . .

  Big mistake.

  The hitter whacked it high and far, and Gary set off running, though he was still catching his breath from the triple he’d hit.

  The ball fell in, but Gary was on it quickly and fired it back to Jonathan, the cutoff man. Jonathan relayed it in, throwing a pea right to the catcher just as the runner came barreling in!

  The runner didn’t think to slide, since he must have figured he’d be safe by a mile. His foot hit the plate an instant after Miles tagged him.

  “Out!” the umpire yelled.

  And it was over!

  Derek tossed his glove high into the air as the whole team raced to the mound to celebrate their incredible comeback victory.

  Dave hugged Derek, and the two boys jumped up and down. They were soon joined by Vijay, who was so happy he looked as though he would take off and fly.

  Dave went over and hugged Chase, then ran to his parents to accept their congratulations.

  Derek gave Chase a high five and thanked him for all of his help. Then he found his dad, who was beaming as he watched his team enjoying the fruits of all their hard work during the season.

  “Dad!” Derek said. “Thank you soooo much! I knew if you coached my team, we’d win!”

  “Did you?” his dad asked with a sly smile. “I have to say, I had doubts myself. But you boys definitely made me proud. And you know what? It’s not over yet!”

  “You can say that again!” Derek crowed. “Hey, Coach—I mean, Dad?”

  “Yes, Son?”

  “I love you.”

  Mr. Jeter looked for a second like he was fighting back a tear or two. But he quickly recovered his composure. “Love you, too, Son. And I’m proud of you—for everything. On and off the field. Playing, and being a great teammate . . . the whole works. You keep it up, and there’s no dream in the world you can’t achieve.”

  Derek practically floated home, and stayed on a cloud the rest of that day. The whole season, so full of growing pains, kept flashing through his mind in a blur. But out of that whirlwind one thought kept coming back, loud and clear. We’re going to the playoffs, and we’re going to win the championship!

  For now it was just a thought. But Derek was sure in his heart that this dream, at least, was going to come true.

  INDIANS OPENING DAY ROSTER

  Mason Adams—2B

  Dean O’Leary—CF

  Derek Jeter—C

  Dave Hennum—P

  Tito Ortega—1B

  Paul Edwards—3B

  Jonathan Hogue—SS

  Vijay Patel—LF

  Gary Parnell—RF

  Reserves: Miles Kaufman, Eddie Falk, Jonah Winters

  Coaches: Charles Jeter and Chase Bradway

  Jeter Publishing’s third middle-grade book is inspired by the childhood of Derek Jeter, who grew up playing baseball. The middle-grade series is based on the principles of Jeter’s Turn 2 Foundation.

  Jeter Publishing will encompass adult nonfiction, children’s picture books, middle-grade fiction, ready-to-read children’s books, and children’s nonfiction.

  About the Authors

  DEREK JETER played Major League Baseball for the New York Yankees for twenty seasons and is a five-time World Series champion. He is a true legend in professional sports and a role model for young people on and off the field and through his work in the community with his Turn 2 Foundation. For more information, visit Turn2Foundation.org.

  Derek was born in New Jersey and moved to Kalamazoo, Michigan, when he was four. There he often attended Detroit Tigers games with his family, but the New York Yankees were always his favorite team, and he never stopped dreaming of playing for them.

  PAUL MANTELL is the author of more than one hundred books for young readers.

  Learn more about Jeter Publishing at JeterPublishing.com

  Visit us at

  simonandschuster.com/kids

  authors.simonandschuster.com/Derek-Jeter

  authors.simonandschuster.com/Paul-Mantell

  ALSO BY DEREK JETER

  The Contract

  Hit & Miss

  Derek Jeter’s Ultimate Baseball Guide 2015

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  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Text copyright © 2016 by Jeter Publishing, Inc.

  Jacket illustration copyright © 2016 by Tim O’Brien

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  Book design by Krista Vossen

  The text for this book was set in Centennial.

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  ISBN 978-1-4814-6445-1

  ISBN 978-1-4814-6447-5 (eBook)