Chapter 39

I had forgotten about the game the next day, as well as the following day, and on awaking it hit me. We were going to drive about 70 miles to play one of the better teams in the state. True it was an out of conference game, but an important one as the state tournament loomed ahead in just two weeks. That meant I wouldn't be able to see either L. O. or Leah that night as we were playing a game that began at 7 PM.

The Game:

Coach told us our opponents fully expected to run away with the state title. Our seniors scoffed at that, but I knew the coach was telling us the truth. What the coach didn't mention was the number of professional and college scouts at the game. Normally we had a few at our games, you can pretty much tell 'em from the regular fans and parents since they're either timing a player running, or clocking the pitches with a radar gun, and always, always, making notes on a pad of some kind.

We had every reason to think we could beat the Wolverines, as they were called. They were ranked number one in the state, and if we did win, we'd solidify an invitation to the state tourney with a good seeding. We needed it because we had lost two straight games making a total of six losses for the year. Not too good for someone looking to win the state title.

Bone Cleary started for us, I was in centerfield, and we opened the first inning by scoring on two consecutive errors by their shortstop, and a single up the middle by Lou Clemons. Cleary had his control for once, and held the Wolverines to one scratch hit until the sixth, when their ace pitcher hit one into the next county. This was followed by two walks and a line drive single to right making the score 3 — 1 in their favor.

In the seventh, I led off with a double to left-center, Temple struck out, and Woods fouled out to first. But good old Will Patagonis doubled past the third baseman, and I scored, and Patagonis took third on the throw home. Then Bone Cleary, a decent enough hitter, caught the Wolverine's third baseman and catcher off guard with a two-strike suicide squeeze, bringing Patagonis home with the tying run.

Cleary ran into trouble in the eighth, walking one and giving up two cheap singles, Olsewski came in relief and after getting his first batter to pop up, gave up a looping base hit that scored two runs, and a 5 — 3 lead. They would have had another, but Dennis Wood made a great throw to the plate and Clemons held the ball after making the tag.

Then the game was delayed about thirty minutes because of a heavy rain. The field was still playable when it let up, but it was obvious that a heavy thunderstorm was approaching. The umpires called the coaches over and told them they'd like to finish the game if at all possible.

The Wolverines Coach argued that it was too risky and that they game should be called. But the umpires said they wanted to try and get the game in.

We sent Champ Bannion up and he singled to left. I walked on four straight pitches, and their coach came out to talk to the pitcher, and stalled as long as he could. The rain started again, and evidently the umpires were a little ticked at his delaying the game by not bringing in another pitcher. I guess they felt that he was going to the dugout and would then turn around and walk back out again and then change pitchers. When he reached the dugout and turned around to go back to the mound, the home plate umpire ejected him from the game. The infield umpire went into their dugout, determined who was now in charge and had him bring the relief pitcher into the game, thereby speeding things along.

When the ejected coach protested, the umpires told him to get out or forfeit the game. He left quickly, cursing vehemently.

Allen Temple, on orders to speed things up by our coaches, sent the first pitch into left-center for a double that brought Bannion home. With runners on second and third, Woods lined to short, and Patagonis struck out. But Olsewski worked a three — two count for a walk, loading the bases. I could see the lighting crackling in the sky a few miles away, and knew we didn't have much time left to play. Ed Saniki pinch-hit for Billy Jennings, and promptly singled to center and I scored, tying the score, but Allen was thrown out at the plate in a very close play. We didn't argue, but raced out onto the field, determined to get three quick outs, and a tie.

The umpires conferred briefly regarding the encroaching thunderstorm and whether to allow play to continue. They opted to continue play, but warned both teams they would end the game if the lightning got any closer, or if the rain worsened.

It was a big decision for us; a tie meant a doubleheader the next day with a depleted pitching staff. That was almost a certainty of losing at least one of the two games and not getting to the state tournament.

In the bottom of the ninth, with Duane pitching in relief of Olsewski, the Wolverines managed a bunt single, but did not score. We were in extra innings.

In the top of the tenth, with one out, Lou Clemons smashed the third pitch over the fence into the enveloping darkness. We had the lead, but the rain began falling harder.

Duane took the mound and waved off any warm up pitches. The umpires helped, goosing the Wolverine batters into getting into the batters box quickly. Duane got the first to pop to second, walked the next batter, but he was caught stealing and there was now two out and one to go. Why he tried to steal I'll never understand. But I'm glad he did.

A loud clap of thunder announced the approaching lightning storm's presence.

"You got three, maybe four pitches before I have to call it," the home plate umpire announced loudly.

Duane hitched up his pants and stared at Clemons catcher's mitt. I knew he could throw strike after strike at times, and hoped it was one of those times.

The batter was stalling as much as the umpire would allow, and gain a tie, and so took the first two pitches, working the count to one and one. Another clap of thunder and Duane hit the inside corner for strike two.

Now the batter dug in to protect the plate. I leaned forward in expectation out in centerfield, and almost fell over. Ball two. The umpire looked up at the sky and decided to continue.

Dune put a fastball down the heart of the plate, daring the batter to hit it. He swung, and hit a sinking line drive to left field. Artie Spears raced in, then dove and caught the ball inches off the grass. He slid about fifteen or twenty feet on the wet grass, ending up a foot or so off the infield dirt. We'd won! And seconds later the lightning flashed across the outfield as we held off any celebration and ran for our lives to get out of the lightning's range.

If we won the following day, we were assured of a slot in the state tourney.

And I was slated to start for our side.

The Girls:

Meanwhile, over in Leah's bedroom:

"So, tell me," Leah said, pushing her girlfriend.

"Tell you what?" L. O. asked, sounding confused.

"What'd Duane do?"

L. O. shrugged, but her pulse was racing. "He said he wanted me to ... I mean I had him in my mouth, you know?"

"And?"

"He wanted to come on my face."

Leah stared at her for a second, and then laughed. "So you despise him for that?"

"I..." L. O. was on the verge of tears, so Leah put her arm around her and cooed in her ear, "There, there, it can't be that bad."

L. O. allowed herself to be babied for a minute or two, and then whimpered, "It wasn't like I screwed up the blowjob. I did everything you and Bree said to do."

"Teeth?"

"No teeth, I was especially careful there."

"Then what?"

"I told you, he didn't want to cum in my mouth. That's what I expected. He insisted that he cum on my face."

"Did he?"

"Yes! And it was so degrading!"

"Was there anything else?"

"No, nothing."

Leah shrugged L. O.'s denials off, saying, "No biggie. He'll call you back and apologize, maybe even beg you to do him again."

L. O. swallowed, then squeezed her legs together. She was thinking that maybe she had done something wrong and didn't even know what it was. She wanted him to call back right that moment. If he asked again, she would suck his cock, and let him cum on her face.

Leah picked up a bottle of red nail polish and shook it. "Hold out your hand," she said, and twisted the cap off.

L. O. looked at her reflection in the mirror as she held out her hand. Leah pulled her closer, and rested L. O.'s hand on her bare knee. She touched the brush to the nail on her pinky finger, painted it quickly, and moved on to the next. The tip of her tongue stuck out of the corner of her mouth.

"That's a nice color," L. O. said. The deep red polish sparkled. "I bet Aubrey will like it."

"He will. He always seems to notice things like that. I think that's one reason all the girls are crazy about him."

"Yeah..." L. O. said dreamily.

"Did you know older women are constantly chasing after him?"

"No way! Who?"

"Your nails are done," Leah said, ignoring L. O.'s question. "If you want, I'll brush your hair while we wait for them to dry."

"Okay, but tell me about those women."

"Turn around."

She set the nail polish on the table by the bed, and picked up the hair brush. L. O. scooted around on the bed, turned her back to Leah, and sat with her legs crossed while her hands rested on her knees, and her fingers spread wide. Leah was quiet while she brushed.

L. O. began to fidget.

Feigning exasperation, Leah sighed and said, "All right ... but no names."

"Go on, go on!"

"I think it started when he danced in the Nutcracker around the holidays. He was wearing this cup over his dick ... I forget what it's called, you must have seen a ballet dancer ... you know, with that big bulge down there. Anyway, it chaffed, so he took it out of his pants..."