Page 21 - Way Out to the Old Ballgame

El Brujo del Beisbol

between left and center for a double and an RBI. Thunder broke my
concentration during the next at-bat, and I hung a curve ball up over
the plate to a southpaw slugger. He took me deep—we were down 3-
2, and I hadn’t gotten an out.”
“Then people started acting funny. The crowd was on its feet,
yelling and whistling and dancing around. The umpire called time and
removed his mask. I wondered what was going on. A few drops of
rain had fallen, but not enough to stop the game. I looked behind me,
and a gigantic thunderhead had moved up toward the stadium,
blackening the sky as it reached the sun. The rain fell harder. The
outfielders came running in, shielding their faces with their gloves.
The mound turned to slippery mud and it was obvious the game
would have to be called, so I headed for the dugout along with rest of
the team. The San Truenans didn’t seem to mind, or even pay us
much attention anymore; you’d have thought a major league team
coming through their town was no big deal.”
“I was trying to figure out what had happened to my pitching
when I got to the locker room. I had put an old Yale combination
lock on the locker door and it was gone, probably the work of a bolt-
cutter. Nothing of value was missing inside—my clothes, my wallet,
all sorts of potential baseball souvenirs that kids would be after: all of
that was still there—but the doll was gone. Later that afternoon I
tried to find Roger, but I had no last name or address to go on. The
Juggernauts left San Trueno the next day and I never won another
game, not even in the minor leagues.”
“Well, that’s my story, kid. Take it or leave it, I swear it’s the truth.
Why don’t we have another drink? I didn’t tell you about the eighty-
two All-Star game, did I?”

20