Chapter 20
Wednesday, August 10, 1999
Inside a Greyhound bus decorated with the blue and white colors of Post 11208, Ethan Lee sat next to a pudgy, African-American catcher named Snyder. The bus was completely quiet. Ethan focused pensively on the cage in his head. As the National Tournament progressed, Ethan had accepted his aggression and hatred as a caged beast. When he wasn't on the mound, he simply fed the beast and guarded the cage. He could see the silver cage in his mind. Ethan never saw the beast though, only his white fangs and deep, gray eyes. The beast fed on conquering. Ethan had not fed the beast in a few days and the beast was hungry.
Coach Krevner, a muscular older man who didn't look that silly in his baseball uniform, stood and spoke.
"Gentlemen, we are five minutes away from Tyaca Springs Baseball Park in Knoxville, Tennessee for the National Legion Championship. We and the team from Florida we are about to play, are the two best Legion ball teams in America. I hope you are not satisfied with being one of the two best teams in America. I hope you want to be the best team in America, and so, a quick prayer."
Coach K (as he was called by all the fans and players) had taken to delivering quick prayers before games since Post 11208 had won the state championship.
"Everyone who is Christian, please bow your heads and pray. Dear Lord, please be with post 11208 for one more game. Be with Ethan Lee as he takes the mound to bring us one more victory. Guide every player with your wisdom and righteousness. Guide my coaching staff and myself with your wisdom and righteousness. And as we know we cannot achieve without you, so we ask you to be with us.
"Everyone, the Lord's prayer."
And all on the bus spoke, "Our father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name.."
Deborah Van Klein stood with a mob of crazed parents and girlfriends who made the trek from St. Louis to root for their team. Deborah wore blue jeans, a white shirt, blue and white ribbons in her hair and a blue heart around the white number 5 in face paint on her left cheek.
When the team exited the bus, she hollered like crazy.
She watched with excitement as a reporter stuck a microphone in her boyfriend's face. She couldn't hear the conversation, for Ethan did not break stride and kept walking to the teams appointed dug out (first base side).
"Ethan, is it true you passed up a chance to play for Stanford?"
"I'm playing for Berkeley. It's my dream school."
The reporter was young, so Ethan talked to him. The younger reporters usually didn't bring up anything personal, just statistics and possible baseball schools.
"So, your education is more important to you than playing professionally? Odds are, you would go in the top ten of the draft."
"Odds are I may never play baseball in the major leagues so I might as well get an education, eh?"
Ethan dropped his bat bag behind the dug out with the others. His teammates were already on the field.
"Can you explain the seven mile an hour increase on average on your fastball from last year?"
"No," he said and ran onto the field.
Deborah Van Klein sat next to Ethan Lee's parents throughout the game. She couldn't believe how stoic the Lees were. By the end of the seventh inning, Ethan had a no-hitter with thirteen strikeouts and the Lees had done nothing more than clap softly, as if they watched a golf match instead of the most important baseball game of their son's life.
With the score 2-0, good guys, Ethan Lee took the mound in the last inning.
A fat man behind him said, "he's gotta be running out of gas. He's thrown one hundred pitches already."
"He doesn't run out of gas," Deborah tilted her head back to speak to the large, mustached man.
"Sure," said the critic. "Sure, whatever his girlfriend says."
After Snyder fired a warm up toss down to second base, he came out to speak to Ethan.
"Hey, Five. You own these guys. Just let us know when you run out of juice."
"Hey Snyder," said Ethan. "Did they catch the guy who murdered my friends yet?"
"No," Snyder put his head down, as if he had just discovered something wholly remarkable about Tennessee soil.
"Then I got juice."
In truth, Ethan couldn't feel his left arm and hadn't felt it for about a week. He was sure he had done some permanent damage to his pitching arm but didn't care.
As he came set, he saw Jim Phelp's face in front of Snyder's mitt.
"One," yelled the umpire as Jim's ear was chipped right off his head by a slider.
"Two," yelled the umpire as the batter swung through a change up that nailed Jim Phelps right in the teeth.
"Three you're, out," yelled the umpire as the hitter swung at a poorly thrown ball in the dirt that just nipped Jim Phelp's right arm.
"Okay, Okay, One down infield!" yelled Snyder.
By the bottom of the ninth, the entire baseball world watched Ethan Lee. He was one out away from becoming the first person in the history of Legion Ball to throw a no-hitter in the National Championship game.
Snyder called time.
"What's up blood," Ethan yelled as Snyder ran to the mound.
"Okay, this is their best contact hitter. He is going to hit the ball. Just keep it low and remember, if we get ahead on him-"
"We go to the deuce, I know. Now get your fat ass behind that plate so we can win this stupid game and get drunk."
The sun was setting and the field's lights began humming.
Jim Phelps stared at Ethan from Snyder's catcher mitt.
"Asshole," Jim grunted as he threw a fast ball on the outer half of the plate.
The batter, a short, stocky Cuban kid swung and popped the ball up.
"I got it," said Ethan. And he did.
Deborah cheered like a maniac. She wanted to run out onto the field where the players had hoisted her boyfriend on their shoulders.
"Yea, Ethan. I love you!"
Mr. Lee turned to Deborah. "They will really want to interview him now. On my pocket radio, the announcers said that no one has ever pitched a no-hitter in the seventy year history of the National Championship."
"He's amazing," she said.
As Ethan and the team gathered up their belongings and threw them back on the bus (Snyder carried Ethan's bag because the pitcher couldn't feel his left arm) Deborah came running up to kiss her sweaty boyfriend.
"I love you, Baby," she said. "That was awesome."
"Coach," yelled Ethan. "Permission to let my woman on the bus for the party, I mean, ride home."
"Permission denied Mr. MVP," said Coach K after sticking his head out one of the bus windows above Ethan and Deborah. "Now let's go. We got some celebrating to do."
On the ride home, not one ball player kept a seat for more than ten minutes. Players guzzled beer with coach. They poured champagne over each other and sang "We are the Champions" by Queen sixteen times.
After exhausting themselves trying to guzzle champagne, Snyder and Ethan sat down with beers.
Ethan extended his battery mate a hand.
"Thanks, Catch."
"No thing, Pitch."
Snyder then stood up. His deep-set eyes and broad body, along with his deep voice, commanded attention.
"Everyone, I just want to congratulate Ethan Lee." Everyone on the bus cheered. "Number five here, he got us here and he got us through. He was like superman, coming from the bullpen when we needed him and starting every time he could. Not only did he do all that, but after becoming the first person to ever throw a no-hitter in the Legion National Championship game, he actually declined to talk to reporters. I know he did, ‘cause they kept asking me about him, which is stupid, ‘cause all I know about him is that he can pitch and he can drink." Snyder grabbed Ethan's arm and held it up.
"So a toast, to the best damn player on this team."
"Here, here," yelled Ethan's teammates. "Here, here."
The happy Greyhound Bus drove slowly back to the county, it's mission accomplished, it's driver rich in overtime hours.