My New Team Read online

  To those who dream big. Dreams can come true.

  —R.H. & K.H.

  Contents

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Letter

  CHAPTER 1 Three Seconds

  CHAPTER 2 Dinosaurs & Pizza for Lunch

  CHAPTER 3 Swing, Batter, Batter

  CHAPTER 4 Practice Makes a Great Player

  CHAPTER 5 Bigmouthed Bully

  CHAPTER 6 Doubles & Dylan Troubles

  CHAPTER 7 Let’s Celebrate

  CHAPTER 8 A Diving Catch

  CHAPTER 9 PB&J Every Day

  CHAPTER 10 Game Time

  CHAPTER 11 Fast Pitches Mean Strikeouts

  CHAPTER 12 A Mustang’s Mighty Hit

  Teaser

  About the Authors

  Copyright

  * * *

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you for checking out Little Rhino! I’m so excited about this book series. I know the first question you have is, are these stories real? Krystle and I wanted to tell a fun story about a boy who loves baseball. Not everything in these books happened to me but a lot of it is based on my life!

  I’ll never forget my first Little League baseball team, the Mustangs. That was the first time my friends and I had our last names and numbers on our jerseys. It made me feel like a real pro baseball player. It was our own “little big league” with bat bags, uniforms, and jackets, just like the professional players had on TV.

  I wasn’t allowed to go to baseball practice until my homework was done so it was the first thing I did when I got home from school. Homework before practice. Good grades before baseball games. Those were the rules growing up.

  Every kid on the team had different talents they brought to the baseball field, but it was most important to have fun playing the game. Enjoy the time you spend with your teammates, work together, and always try your best!

  * * *

  Little Rhino stepped up to home plate. He gripped the bat tight. The breeze in the treetops sounded like the crowd at a Major League Baseball game. He imagined that the bases were loaded.

  Hit this one out of the park, he told himself.

  Rhino glared at the pitcher. Here came the ball!

  With a hard, steady swing, Rhino connected. The smack of the bat against the ball sent a thrill through his body.

  “Nice hit!” said Grandpa James with a smile.

  Rhino smiled back. He dropped the plastic bat and watched as the ball flew over the tall hedge. He’d hit it out of the backyard! Rhino had never hit one that far before.

  Grandpa pitched to Rhino every day after Rhino’s homework was done. “Books first, baseball second” was the rule in their house. Rhino always raced home from third grade, had a snack, and did his work. Then he changed into shorts and an oversized jersey, grabbed his bat and glove, and met Grandpa in the yard.

  “You’re really hitting them now, Rhino,” Grandpa said. Rhino’s real name was Ryan but everyone except his teachers used his nickname. “Better get that ball before it rolls all the way to Main Street!”

  Rhino laughed. He knew the ball hadn’t gone that far. It was just a plastic one—not like the real MLB baseball they used for playing catch. He hit with a plastic one because a real one might break a window. That would be bad.

  Rhino trotted out of the yard. He stopped cold when he saw Dylan on the other side of the street. Dylan was tall and thin and always looked mean. He was holding Rhino’s ball.

  “Looking for this?” Dylan said with a sneer. “Come and get it, wimp.”

  Rhino gulped. Dylan was the meanest kid in third grade. He teased everyone and often got into fights. Dylan acts tough, but he’s not, Rhino’s thinker said. Grandpa James would always point to his head and say, “Your thinker is there to think the things you can’t say out loud.”

  Still, Dylan was bigger than Rhino. He was always sneering, his glasses sitting crooked on his face, and his stiff blond hair stood up on his head, making him look even taller.

  “Come on over,” Dylan said. “Come get your baby ball.”

  Rhino looked back. The leafy hedge blocked Grandpa’s view. Rhino couldn’t return to the backyard without the ball. He swallowed hard and walked across the street.

  Rhino reached for the ball. Dylan held out his hand, then pulled it away. Rhino reached again. Dylan twisted and waved the ball over his head.

  “Give me the ball,” Rhino said. Inside his head, his thinker added, You big bully.

  Dylan held the ball out again. “Take it,” he said.

  Rhino put his hand on the ball. Dylan wouldn’t let go.

  “Let me have it,” Rhino said. This is why you have zero friends, Dylan, he thought. You’re nothing but a bigmouthed bully.

  “Just take it,” Dylan said. But he gripped the ball harder.

  Rhino frowned and squinted his brown eyes. He pulled the ball, but Dylan just laughed. He was stronger than Rhino.

  Rhino heard Grandpa’s voice from the yard. “Rhino?” he said. “Is everything all right?”

  Dylan looked surprised when he heard Rhino’s grandfather. He yanked the ball away, then threw it at Rhino. It hit Rhino’s chest and fell to the street. Rhino scooped it up.

  Dylan was walking away fast. Rhino had never seen Dylan back down from something before. He didn’t look back.

  Rhino stepped into the yard. Grandpa James had come closer to the hedge. He raised his bushy eyebrows but didn’t say anything.

  Rhino felt shaky. He didn’t like uncomfortable situations. If Grandpa hadn’t been there, Dylan might have started a fight. Or he might have kept the ball.

  “Ready to hit some more?” Grandpa said. He gripped an imaginary bat, flexing his arm muscles, and making a powerful swing. Grandpa had always been very fit and athletic.

  Rhino slowly walked back over to Grandpa. “I think I’ve had enough for today,” he said softly.

  “Really?” Grandpa asked. “You usually want to hit until it gets dark out.”

  Rhino shrugged. “I guess I’m tired.” He felt embarrassed because Dylan had picked on him and Rhino didn’t get a chance to stand up for himself. He had let his thinker do all of his arguing, and then his grandfather showed up. Grandpa James probably heard the whole thing.

  Grandpa put his hand on Rhino’s shoulder. “Three seconds,” he said.

  Grandpa had taught Rhino the “three second rule.” When you’re angry or feeling bad about yourself, take three seconds to be upset. Then remember how great you are.

  Rhino let his shoulders drop. He blew out his breath.

  “Let’s do some throwing,” Grandpa said. He picked up a hardball and watched Rhino grab his glove off the lawn.

  “Sounds good,” Rhino said. After a few throws he felt better.

  Grandpa tossed the ball high in the air. Pop flies like those were the hardest ones for Rhino to catch. The daylight was fading. Rhino set himself under the ball and watched as it reached its highest point. The ball seemed to hang in midair for a second. Then it dropped. Rhino made the catch.

  “Nice one,” Grandpa said.

  Last month, when they’d started practicing baseball, Rhino almost never caught a pop fly. Now he grabbed them every time.

  “You’ve made a lot of progress,” Grandpa said. “Everything takes time and practice. Catching pop-ups. Hitting the ball.”

  Rhino nodded. Then he remembered the clash with Dylan. He stared toward the hedge and replayed the conflict. I should have told him to get lost, he thought.

  “Everything takes time, Little Rhino,” Grandpa said again. “Even dealing with a bully.”

  Little Rhino was hungry. He glanced at the clock on the wall of the classroom. It would be lunchtime soon.

  Rhino usually brought his own lunch. But Friday was pizza
day. Grandpa James had given him money to buy a few slices.

  “All right, class,” said Mrs. Imburgia. “Time to line up.”

  Rhino and his friend Cooper quickly went to the front of the room.

  “Ryan and Cooper, you’re always first!” Mrs. Imburgia said with a laugh.

  “We’re always the hungriest!” said Cooper.

  “And the fastest,” added Rhino. They hurried to the cafeteria.

  “Cheesy pizza today,” said Rhino. “My most favorite thing in the entire world!”

  Cooper handed a lunch tray to Rhino. Both boys could eat a lot of pizza even though Cooper was taller. They were both strong and quick. It was an even match when they played one-on-one basketball or had a race.

  Rhino tilted his head back and took a deep breath of pizza aroma. “Let’s eat with a new group today,” he said. “Some kids from another class talk about dinosaurs at lunch. They asked me to join them.”

  Dinosaurs and baseball were Rhino’s favorite topics but he liked learning all kinds of new facts, like how much an elephant weighs or how far the moon is from the Earth.

  Rhino usually made friends easily. Cooper was shy, but he and Rhino always got along.

  Cooper seemed unsure about joining the new group. “We could talk about dinosaurs by ourselves,” he said.

  “This will be more fun,” Rhino said. “You’ll see.”

  Rhino took a slice of pizza and a carton of milk. Then he saw Dylan getting in the line. Rhino hurried to pay. He got away from the lunch line and glanced back to make sure Dylan wasn’t following him.

  Rhino saw the kids in the dinosaur group waving toward him. He looked around for Cooper and saw him standing in the middle of the cafeteria.

  “Cooper!” Rhino called. “Over here.”

  There were only two seats left at the table. Rhino set down his tray. Cooper slowly walked over and sat down in the last empty seat. Rhino looked at his friend and then at the rest of the table. The other kids were talking about T. rex.

  The girl next to him nudged Rhino with her elbow. “Hi,” she said. “I’m Bella.” She had a dark ponytail and a red hairband.

  Rhino smiled. He was a little unsure about joining the new group, too. He felt like a family of butterflies was flying around his stomach. “I’m Ryan,” he said to Bella. “But call me Rhino.”

  “T. rex was as long as a school bus!” said a boy with curly red hair.

  “Longer than that,” said a girl in a purple sweatshirt.

  “No, it wasn’t,” said the boy. “It was forty feet long.”

  Rhino knew that was true. “T. rex could eat a triceratops in just a few bites,” he said. Rhino took a big bite of his pizza slice. “Just like that,” he added, even though his mouth was full and a string of cheese was hanging off his chin.

  “They ate stegosaurs, too,” said the red-haired boy.

  Rhino knew that wasn’t right. T. rex had lived millions of years before the stegosaurs. Rhino started to speak, but stopped. He didn’t want to have an argument on his first day with the new group. He took a sip of milk instead.

  Bella nudged him again. “No stegosaurs, right?” she whispered.

  Rhino shook his head gently and smiled.

  Bella spoke up. “Stegosaurs didn’t live at the same time as T. rex.”

  “They didn’t?” asked the boy.

  Bella shook her head. “Nope.”

  The boy shrugged. He started talking about how short T. rex’s arms were.

  After lunch, Rhino put his hand on Cooper’s shoulder. “That was fun,” he said. “Nice group, huh?”

  Cooper nodded.

  “Join in more next time,” Rhino said. “You know as much about dinosaurs as any of us.”

  “I’ll try,” Cooper said.

  They walked past Dylan’s lunch table. “Hey, baby ball,” Dylan said.

  Rhino ignored him. He felt like calling Dylan “scaredy-pants” for the way he left so quickly when Grandpa James came over. But he knew that wouldn’t help anything. Dylan was a bully.

  “What was that about?” Cooper asked as they entered their classroom.

  “Dylan was just looking for trouble,” Rhino said. “He’s always saying something mean.”

  “That’s for sure,” Cooper said. “I’m glad he’s not in our class.”

  There were a few minutes until the bell for the next period. Rhino looked through his desk until he found his dinosaur book. He checked some facts about T. rex. Most of what the other kids had said was correct. Rhino knew a lot more, too.

  Rhino turned to Cooper, who sat behind him. He knew that Cooper could have a lot to say about sports or music or almost anything else when they were alone. But Cooper stayed shy and quiet around most other kids.

  I know how that can be, Rhino’s thinker said. He could talk all day with Cooper or with Grandpa James or with his older brother, C.J. But his words didn’t always come out easily, like when he had to deal with Dylan.

  He’d show his dinosaur book to Cooper so he could learn some new facts. That would help Cooper to share what he knew at lunchtime. Cooper just needed some practice in talking to other kids.

  Maybe Rhino needed practice, too, so he’d be ready next time Dylan tried to bully him. He wasn’t afraid of Dylan, but he always seemed to be tongue-tied around him. Rhino needed his thinker to tell him what to say.

  After school, Rhino did his math homework. Then he read for thirty minutes for his reading homework. He kept thinking about hitting baseballs.

  After thirty minutes, his buzzer went off. That meant he was done with his reading. Little Rhino rushed outside. Grandpa James was waiting.

  “I’m going to smack every pitch into the street!” Rhino said. “Just like yesterday.”

  Grandpa smiled. “Let’s warm up first.” He tossed the ball into the air and caught it in his glove. “Get ready.”

  Rhino put on his glove. He felt loose and excited today. His throws had more zip on them. He caught every ball Grandpa threw, even when Grandpa made it tough by throwing them wide or high.

  “All right, let’s bat,” Grandpa said.

  Rhino tapped the plastic bat on the ground. He pulled it back toward his shoulder and waited for the pitch. He planned to hit it out of the yard. See ya, wouldn’t want to be ya. Little Rhino sent that thought to the ball.

  Rhino swung harder than ever. But instead of a solid crack, he heard nothing but a swish.

  “Strike one!” came a voice from the driveway.

  Rhino turned to look. His brother, C.J., was walking over with a big grin. C.J. was twelve years old and looked like a bigger version of Rhino—long legs and lean. They both looked a lot like Grandpa, too, but Grandpa’s skin was darker. C.J. was left-handed, just like Rhino.

  “Nice swing,” C.J. said. “I felt the breeze all the way over here.”

  Rhino laughed. His brother was always joking like that.

  “I’ll take the outfield,” C.J. said.

  “Better go way back,” Rhino said. “And be ready to jump.”

  C.J. trotted to a space in front of the hedge.

  Grandpa threw another pitch.

  Rhino locked his eyes on the ball. He swung as hard as before. But the bat barely nicked the ball. It went straight to the ground and rolled a few feet.

  Rhino shook his head.

  “Just meet the ball,” Grandpa said. “It will go if you hit it solid.”

  Rhino was frustrated. He wanted to show C.J. how hard he could hit. He gripped the bat tighter.

  He missed the next pitch completely.

  “Too hard,” Grandpa said. “Just make contact with the ball. The power will take care of itself.”

  “I’m getting bored out here!” C.J. called. He waved at Rhino and smiled.

  Rhino dug in and waited. Grandpa was right. Rhino took a steady swing at the next pitch and lined it toward the hedge. C.J. grabbed it on one bounce and tossed it back.

  Rhino hit the next three pitches. C.J. caught two of them on t
he fly. The other bounced all the way to the hedge.

  I’m in the zone now, Rhino thought. This next one is out of here!

  He put all of his might into the next swing. Boooom! He knocked the pitch over the hedge.

  “Good-bye, Mr. Baseball!” C.J. said as he watched it go. “Nice one, Rhino!”

  “See?” Grandpa said. “You’ve got plenty of power, Little Rhino. Just meet the ball. You see the result.”

  C.J. came back with the ball. Rhino wondered if Dylan had been out there again. Dylan would never mess with a guy as big as C.J.

  “You put a dent in the ball!” C.J. said. “You smacked it so hard.”

  “Really?” Rhino asked.

  C.J. laughed. “Nah. But it went clear across the street.”

  Rhino kept batting for a half hour. He hit two more over the hedge. Then they went inside to eat dinner.

  “I have a surprise for you,” Grandpa said as he poured some orange juice. “What’s your favorite thing to do, Little Rhino?” Rhino and C.J. were seated around the big dinner table, passing a bowl of mac ’n’ cheese around.

  “Hit baseballs,” Rhino said out loud. Then he thought, And think about how I am going to be in the majors one day. Play professional baseball. Win a million World Series, be the MVP every season, and—

  “How would you like to be on a real team?” Grandpa asked.

  “What?! Yes!” Rhino could picture himself in a new baseball uniform, with a team hat. He’d blast home runs and steal bases. He’d dive for line drives.

  “Sign-ups for the Wildwood city league are on Saturday,” Grandpa said. “There will also be a clinic to teach you young players the basics of the game.”

  Rhino couldn’t believe it. He’d be playing baseball in a league.

  “It’s a great program,” C.J. said. “I played in that league for four years.” Now he was on the baseball team at his middle school.

  “I can’t wait,” Rhino said. “Can we practice some more now?”

  “We’ve done enough for today,” Grandpa said. “Did you finish all of your homework?”

  “Yes.” But Rhino wasn’t sure if he’d done enough. He had started to daydream during his thirty minutes of reading because he wanted to hit baseballs. He knew he should read the story again. “I’ll read some more after dinner,” he said.