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a troubling pattern when Fleming pitched. Brilliant one moment, vulnerable the next. He’d blown a couple of games during that early losing streak.
    Second batter. Again, two pitches, two quick strikes. And then the batter hit a bullet, a line drive up the middle that looked like a certain run-scorer.
    Somehow Spencer got to the ball, extending his glove and making an incredible diving catch. He fell to the dirt, rolled to his knees, and fired the ball to Miguel.
    The Memorial base runner was caught off guard. He’d streaked toward the plate, assuming the ball would land safely. But Spencer had caught it on the fly. Double play!
    â€œYeah, Spencer!” Eddie yelled, as loud as anything he’d said all season.
    Now that’s Major League ability! Unbelievable play. This entire Hudson City infield—from first base all the way to third—has been spectacular lately.
    Lamont trotted over and slapped hands with Spencer. On the mound, Jimmy Fleming raised his fist and pumped it.
    The stunning double play seemed to take away all of Memorial’s energy. Jimmy struck out the next batter.
    And after the Hornets picked up another run in the top of the seventh, Jimmy put Memorial down in order, sealing the 6–4 win.
    Â 
    All of the talk in the locker room after the game was about Spencer’s big play.
    â€œAs if this kid needs any more fuel for his ego,” Coach Wimmer said with a laugh. “If his head gets any bigger we’ll need to special order his caps.”
    Spencer shook his head with an embarrassed smile. “All in a day’s work,” he said. “Whatever I gotta do, I do it.”
    Eddie looked over at Spencer. It was true—the kid talked nonstop, especially about himself. But he backed it up, too. You couldn’t argue with that. Baseball, football, basketball—Spencer was always right there in the front line, battling with everything he had. You had to admire a guy like that.
    He’d certainly earned it today.

7
Time Off
    T hursday was a half-day at school and Coach Wimmer held a brief practice session, so the players had most of the afternoon free.
    The temperature was in the high seventies and there was no chance of rain, so Eddie and several others headed down to Hamilton Park, which stretched along the Hudson River on the flats below the town.
    Ramiro had a soccer ball and Lamont brought along a Frisbee. But most of the guys just took off their shirts and lay on the grass in the sun.
    â€œGood day to forget all about baseball for a minute,” Spencer said, lying with his eyes shut and his arms and legs spread wide.
    In the backs of their minds, all of the players knew they had a big game the next day against Palisades. But Spencer was right. They needed a break from the pressure.
    Eddie took off his socks and sneakers and sat looking across the river at the huge skyscrapers on the Manhattan skyline. Directly across from Hudson City were the many large piers and shipping terminals.
    As close as they lived to New York City, Eddie had only been there a handful of times. His parents went in often for dinner or shows, and of course, his brother lived there. His parents had taken him to a couple of Knicks games at Madison Square Garden and baseball games at Yankee Stadium, and they’d been to some of the museums. But Eddie couldn’t picture himself living there.
    After a while, Calvin Tait came walking up. Eddie was relieved to see that he was with Danielle Rosado. If Calvin had been alone, the guys would have grilled him about the baseball articles. With a girl around, they’d just try to flirt.
    â€œHey, Danielle,” said Spencer.
    â€œHey, Spence.”
    â€œWhere’s your sister?”
    â€œHome.”
    Danielle had a twin, Jessie. Both girls were excellent athletes—soccer and gymnastics, mostly. This spring they’d joined the track-and-field team and had become top sprinters and jumpers.
    â€œGuess you came down