“Sam,” Doc said. “You dont have to prove nothin. Walk him if you want to.”

“And move Tibbs into scorin position?” Sam shook his head.

The umpire strolled toward the mound.

“Let’s break it up, boys,” Isom said. He swatted Sam on the rump.

I backed up all the way to the fence. Sam stood watching O’Malley, his arms dangling at his sides. The fans still chanted. O’Malley stepped out of the box, came back.

Sam didn’t lunge off the mound. He took a tiny step, lofted the ball in a high, slow arch. It looked like it had been thrown underhand. As far away as I was, I seen O’Malley’s mouth hang open.

“Strike!” the umpire cried.

The second pitch was just the same. O’Malley watched it, hungered for it, his shoulders bunched tight and the bat held high. He started to swing, realized it was too soon, checked, then swung half-hearted. The ball was already past him.

The stands was in an uproar. Lytton Davidson charged out of the dugout but was persuaded to return by Tiny Sanders. Then Sam Gore reached down for one last fastball.

He blew it right by him.

O’Malley went down on his knees like he was praying. Sam ran straight for the dugout and we all piled in after him, hollering and carrying on. The veins of Sam’s forehead stuck out.

“You see that white boy beat the air!” he yelled. “I struck me out a Philadelphy Athletic!”

Sam went to bat and promptly struck out himself, but he didn’t mind. We added a run in the top of the ninth to go up 6–4. But in the bottom of the inning things started falling apart.

Antoine replaced Sam on the mound and had control problems. He had walked two in the eighth but got out of the inning without any runs scored. In the ninth he walked the leadoff batter, then give up two singles. It was 6–5, two on, no outs. Carmello Angelelli flied out to center, and my throw held the runners. But Antoine walked Mario Angelelli to load the bases. Joe Tibbs come to the plate. The fans rose to their feet. Ralph Day walked to the mound to settle Antoine down, went back to his squat.

Antoine struck Joe out.

That left two outs and O’Malley. Ralph called a conference.

“Walk in the tyin run, or take a chance on him cleanin the bases.”

“I aint walkin in no tyin run,” Antoine declared. “We play to win, dont we?”

“Hell, yes,” Isom said. “Let’s go for it.”

Back in centerfield, I wet my finger, held it up. The wind was still blowing in, a hopeful sign.

Ay batter ay batter batter batter

Antoine threw two balls, both high and outside. The Davidson fans commenced their clapping.