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Through the one-way glass partition Mitch Tojian watched Matty Hazzard enter the outer office. |
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"We could have used you yesterday," Mitch said, stepping out. He put his hand on Matty's shoulder. "The Giants trounced us." |
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Matty made a flat smile. He was a good looking boy, and even though he was wearing a loose turtleneck, Mitch could see he was well built. |
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"I stopped counting after ten." |
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"Pretty bad," Matty said. He examined the wall photos of the different teams Mitch had coached over the last three yearsgroups of boys and girls in their red and white uniforms, the big bold print across their chests. DEVIL DOGS. |
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Nearby were some black-and whites of Ted Williams, Carl Yastrzemski and Willie Mays. Mitch tapped the photo of Williams caught in the middle of a mighty swing. "I don't even think he could have saved us, given all the errors. But it's a long season." |
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From behind the desk he pulled out a Louisville Slugger. Along the shank in black was Williams's signature. |
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"Did Ted Williams really sign it?" |
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"Uh-huh. And I was about your age." He handed the bat to Matty. "Go ahead." |
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Matty positioned himself with the bat, his sneakers nearly touching. |
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Mitch spread Matty's feet along the white eye-exam line on the floor. He showed him how to stand and to choke up; he moved his hands so that the bat was off his shoulder, his elbow parallel to the |
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