Brother Against Brother

Brother Against Brother
(dedicated to my three grandsons and their favorite coach, their father)

The sky had changed from black to faint gray when a large hand gently shook the boy huddled under the blanket. “Ryan, get up. Come on, we need to leave as quickly as you can get dressed,” his father stated with another shake. “You need to move.”

          Ryan uncovered his head, revealing short-cut, blond hair and sleepy, light-blue eyes. “Okay, I’m getting up,” the ten-year-old told his father with a stretch of his long arms and legs. “I’m moving.”

          The tall, broad-shouldered man strode to another room where he awoke Ryan’s brothers. “Time to get ready. If you’re going to be at camp on time, we have to go.”

          “I want to sleep,” Colby grumbled while his brother Shane scrambled out of his bed.

          “You don’t want to play in the camp tournament?” his father asked in surprise.

          “Tournament? Yeah! That’s today.” The middle brother pushed his covers back as he joined his younger brother dressing.

          Within thirty minutes, the three brothers and their parents had eaten breakfast and started the hour’s drive to the city.

          “Dad, what if I have to play all big guys?” six-year-old Shane asked from where he sat in the back of the vehicle. “Some of them have been playing baseball for more years than me.”

          “I’ve been playing more years than you,” his oldest brother replied, “but that doesn’t keep you from wanting to play ball with me.”

          “That’s different.” Shane answered, worry showing in his dark-blue eyes.

          “I’ve been playing longer than you, too,” Colby told him. “What difference does that make?”

          “Hey, guys, just remember all you’ve learned this week in baseball camp, plus what you already know,” their father stated as he kept his eyes on the road ahead. “Shane, there are other players who will play that are your age. The different ages will be mixed, too, so you won’t be playing just against one age group.”

          “Oh.” Shane sat back against the seat.

          "You'll do fine," his mother added, reaching between the seats to pat his knee.

Ryan sat on a bench in one of the dugouts with members of his team. Six teams gathered in groups along the main baseball diamond. I like the looks of my team, he thought as he observed the other players. We’ll play well together.

          “Ryan,” Coach Shelby said as he walked up with Shane beside him, “I need you and Shane to trade teams. We have too many of you bigger guys on this team and not enough on Team Four.”

          Taking one last glance at the team he had hoped to play with, Ryan sighed before answering, “Sure, Coach.”

          Ryan swallowed hard when he saw Team Four. I’ll say there aren’t enough big guys on this team. Over half hardly know which end of the bat to hold, either. He settled his purple cap on his head. I’ll just do my best like Dad’s always telling me, but I sure wish I could have stayed on Team Six.

          Meanwhile, Colby, in his regular team uniform with the number twenty-four on the back, listened to the captain of Team Five set up the batting order. “Hey, you there, number twenty-four, you’ll follow the guy wearing number twelve.”

          Colby looked over to the scowling boy in the green shirt. Wonder why he's so angry? He hasn't smiled all week.

          In the dugout with Team Six, Shane sat quietly listening to the older boys decide who would play what positions and the batting order. There sure are lots of big guys on this team, he thought as he realized he was the youngest. I’m glad everyone has to play, or I wouldn’t get to.

         Since the tournament would be round-robin, each team would play each team for two innings. Then the top two teams would play for the championship. Rounds one and two passed with some wins, some losses.

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Ryan steps to the plate, ready to bat.

         "At least my team won their first game," Ryan told his parents on his way to his third game. "How are Colby and Shane doing?"

         Motioning to the game in the diamond in front of them, his father answered, "They've both won one and lost one, and their teams play each other next." Laying an arm around his son's shoulders, he added, "Ryan, don't get discouraged. You're doing fine."

         "Maybe, but most of the others aren't." Ryan grimaced as he jogged toward the diamond where his next game would be played.

         "He's really taking having to play on this team rather well," the boys' mother said. She settled her sun-visor over her dark-brown hair, brushing a few strands back from her face. "I think I'll go watch his next game."

         Round three, Team Six and Team Five battled inning after inning with the score tied.

         "What's happening?" the boys' mother asked as she joined their father, handing him a bottle of water. "Ryan's team has finished their third game some time ago."

         "The score's been tied for five innings, and since one team has to win..." The boys' father shrugged as he glanced down to his shorter wife. "They're in the top of the sixth inning now, with Colby making the only hit and knocking in a player who had walked." He unscrewed the cap of the plastic bottle. "Right now Team Five has four runs, and Team Six, three." Tipping the bottle, he swallowed the cool water.

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Shane fields the ball for an out.

         "How many outs?" the mother asked watching her sons as their teams faced each other.

         "Well, that fly caught by the center fielder makes three," the father answered, wiping the sweat from his face. "Whew, sure is hot when the breeze dies."

         When Colby's team took the field to try to stop the other team from scoring any runs, the team captain told him, "You catch again, number twenty-four." Then the captain ran toward his own spot at short stop.

          “Why don’t you let someone else catch,” the player with number twelve on his green shirt demanded, glowering in Colby’s face. “You aren’t doing very good.” He stomped to his position at third base.

          Outwardly ignoring the boy, Colby turned back toward the backstop. Wish that kid would just play and leave me alone. I don't know why he picks on me. “Come on, batter, batter, swing!” he chatted as he squatted behind home plate.

          The first two batters hit singles, but the next batter struck out, leaving runners at first and second. Okay, Colby planned, if I get the ball, I need to throw to third, get the lead runner.

          The batter bunted the ball so that it rolled just in front of the plate. Colby jumped forward to scoop it up and spun it toward third, where green-shirt ducked and let the ball fly into far left field. Two runs scored. Why did he duck? Colby silently asked as he slumped against the back stop.

          "Sorry you didn't win, Colby, but you did your best," Shane told him as he stopped beside his brother.

          “I tried,” Colby answered his brother, “but look what he did." Colby stared at the boy in the green shirt. "Your team wouldn’t have won if he hadn’t dodged the ball instead of catching it.”

         "Colby," his father said as he moved beside his son. "You don't know why that boy reacted as he did. Look, he's younger than you. Maybe this is his first time to really play. He made a mistake, and everyone makes mistakes."

         "I guess." Colby lowered his head and gave a half-grin. "I just wanted to win. Shane's team just played better."

          “Yeah, we won!" Shane grinned as he grabbed his glove from the ground.

          “You did a good job, too, Shane,” Colby admitted.

          “Thanks. You did, too.” Shane waved as he ran toward the next diamond.

          Colby's father laid his hand on the boy's shoulder. “You did what you needed to do, and that's all anyone can do.”

          “But, Dad, that kid keeps saying things...” Colby shrugged. “He’s been after me all week, and I never did anything to him.”

          “You handled his needling you just right. Ignoring him shuts him up better than saying anything would.” His father gave him a one-armed hug. “Now get to your next game. Hopefully you can finish your games before it rains again.”

At the end of the preliminaries, during a break, Ryan watched his brothers get ready for the championship game. “Your teams played really well,” he told them. “You two did, too. You deserve to play now.”

          “Hey, you played hard. It’s not your fault your team didn’t do better. At least you came in fourth.” Colby lightly punched his older brother’s shoulder.

          Shane added. “You did a really good job, Ryan.”

          “You both played good games, too. Now, who do I yell for?” With a grin, Ryan looked at the other two. “Maybe I should yell for Shane since he’s on the team I would have been on.”

          Shane agreed, "You can yell for me, but the bigger boys did most of the winning.”

          “Uh, uh,” Colby disagreed. “You got hits and runs. You did your part.”

          “Well, now you better get in your dugouts. The game’s about to start,” their mother told them from where she sat on a bench.

          “I wish Granny could be here to see us play for first place,” Colby said as he turned to run toward his team, avoiding the puddles of water across the fields.

          “Hey, Dad, may I use the cell phone to call Granny?” Ryan asked. “I could tell her about the game.”

          “I guess,” his father agreed. “Since they’re only going to play one inning, you should be able to give her a running commentary.”

          "That doesn't seem fair, just getting to play one inning for first place," Ryan stated. "We got to play two innings before, and that wasn't enough."

          "With the rain causing yesterday's games to be cancelled and rain threatening to fall again any second, time had to be cut somewhere," his mother reminded him. "After all, this is just for fun."

         "Yeah, I know. I wish the camp hadn't lasted just till noon each day. I wanted to learn so much more." Then punching in the numbers to call his grandmother, Ryan waited for her to answer. “Granny, Colby’s team and Shane’s are playing for the championship.”

          “Great. You’ll have to tell me all about the game when you get here for lunch,” his grandmother answered him, her voice strong over the cell phone.

          “Dad said I could tell you about it now,” Ryan answered. “Shane’s team is up to bat, must be the visitors.” He paused. “Uh, oh, the first batter struck out. Shane’s up next. He's done really well, Granny. Sweet! He hit one to left behind the short stop. He’s on first.” Another pause. “Shane stole second on a wild pitch. He's running really fast today." He paused. "The batter hit one to far center. Almost a home run! Shane scores. The batter made it to second.” After another short pause, he announced, “A pop fly to second, two outs.” When the next batter struck out, he said, “Well, the score’s one to nothing. If Colby’s team scores more than one run or doesn't score at all, the game’s over.”

          “What do you mean the game’s over?” his grandmother asked. “That’s just one inning.”

          “Everything is running behind with all the rain, and, uh, oh, it's actually starting to sprinkle again. So the final game is one inning. And, Mom said that after all this is just for fun,” Ryan told her, trying to hide his disappointment. “Okay, Colby’s leading off. Ooops, strike one... Uh, another pitch. Ball one. The coach who's pitching is really putting the balls in the strike zone. Wow! Colby hit one deep into right field. Run faster, Colby! He’s rounding first! Go, Colby, go! He slides into second. He’s safe.” He paused for a minute. “The next batter swings and misses. The next pitch... Man! He hit a home run! Colby’s team wins.” Ryan handed the phone to his mother as he ran down to the field to congratulate his brothers: one for winning, one for making his team’s only score.

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Colby scores.

          “Your boys sure seem to support each other,” the head coach from the university hosting the camp said as he walked up beside the father. “We were a bit worried that there might be a problem putting brother against brother.”

          “They can manage not to fight sometimes and do tend to support one another most times. I’m glad to see them brother for brother rather than brother against brother, too.” The father watched his three sons pounding one another on the back as they showed, at least this day, that each cheered for his brothers.