Dugout Hero Read online

  To the readers and fans of Little Rhino.

  —R.H. & K.H.

  Contents

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Letter

  CHAPTER 1 Tough Breaks

  CHAPTER 2 Bottled Up

  CHAPTER 3 Using His Thinker

  CHAPTER 4 Left Out!

  CHAPTER 5 Eyes Open

  CHAPTER 6 Short Hops

  CHAPTER 7 Fact Finders

  CHAPTER 8 Pressure!

  CHAPTER 9 Almost Ready

  CHAPTER 10 Fun Time

  CHAPTER 11 Back in the Game

  Preview

  About the Authors

  Copyright

  * * *

  Dear Reader,

  Krystle and I hope you are enjoying the Little Rhino books!

  Sometimes in baseball, a player will get injured and have to miss games. It takes a lot of patience to sit out while you’re getting better. You have to take care of your injury. It’s important to make sure that you are completely healed before you return, otherwise you could hurt yourself again. But even though you’re injured, you can still contribute. It’s important to support your teammates both on and off the field.

  I’ve had a few injuries in my career. Every time, I just wanted to get back on the field. But I knew that it could make my injury worse. So I listened to my doctors, worked hard to get healthy, and before I knew it, I was back playing first base. My teammates appreciated the cheers I gave them while I sat on the bench. It made me realize that even though I wasn’t playing in the games, I was still a valued teammate.

  * * *

  The pitcher looked worried. Little Rhino was sort of nervous, too, but he was ready. Butterflies were part of baseball! He blew out his breath and stepped into the batter’s box.

  Rhino felt sweat trickling down his neck. The air was warm and still. This pitcher knows I can hit, he thought. It’s me against him.

  The game was tied. Rhino’s teammate Cooper had reached second base, and he would score if Rhino got another hit. With two outs, the game was riding on Rhino.

  “Bring him home!” came a shout from the Mustangs’ dugout.

  “Strike him out!” came a call from the other side of the field.

  Rhino watched the first pitch go by. It was way outside. He stepped back and wiped some dirt from the knee of his baseball pants. That was from sliding into third a couple of innings ago with a triple.

  This pitch, he thought. This is the one!

  The pitcher threw a fastball. It was low but straight down the middle. Rhino pulled back his bat and swung hard. The ball hit the catcher’s mitt.

  He felt a pop, but it wasn’t his bat hitting the ball. A sharp pain surged through Rhino’s right ankle. He fell to the dirt and winced.

  “Yow!” Rhino yelled. The umpire called time out and Coach Ray ran from the dugout.

  Rhino tried to get up, but his coach told him to stay still. He gently grabbed Rhino’s right ankle. “Here?” he asked.

  Rhino nodded. He blinked his eyes and bit down on his lip. It hurt, but Rhino tried to fight off the pain. “I’ll be okay,” Rhino said. He reached for his bat.

  “I think you’re done for today,” Coach Ray said.

  “I’m all right,” Rhino replied. He flexed the ankle to show his coach that it was okay. “See?” But it did hurt.

  “That’s a good sign that you can move it, but it will probably start to swell,” Coach said. “Let’s get some ice on it.”

  Coach and the umpire helped Rhino to the dugout. They wrapped an ice pack on the ankle and propped Rhino’s foot up on a couple of sweatshirts.

  “Tough break,” said Rhino’s teammate Bella. She shook her dark ponytail and looked concerned. Bella was Coach Ray’s daughter, and she had become a good friend to Rhino.

  “It better not be a break,” Rhino said. He didn’t see what the big deal was. He thought he could have continued batting.

  I get little bumps and bruises all the time, Rhino thought. They never slow me down.

  After the third out, the Mustangs ran back onto the field. They hadn’t scored, so the game was still tied. Coach sent Paul to first base to replace Rhino. Paul had played there early in the season, but he had a hard time fielding throws. Rhino had moved from center field to first base at the start of the season, and he’d done very well at the new position.

  Paul and Rhino were the only left-handed players on the Mustangs. A lot of major league coaches liked to put lefties at first base. They could reach their gloves a little farther if a wide throw was headed toward right field.

  Rhino smiled as his grandfather stepped into the dugout.

  “How does it feel?” Grandpa James asked. He patted Rhino’s shoulder.

  Rhino shrugged. “The ice is making it numb,” he said. “It doesn’t seem too bad.”

  “We’ll drive over to the hospital to get it checked out,” Grandpa said.

  “Can we wait until the game is over?” Rhino wanted to see his team win.

  Grandpa raised his bushy eyebrows and laughed. “I guess so. I know how important your team is for you.”

  Things weren’t looking good for the Mustangs, though. The Sharks had a runner on third base. If she scored, the game would be over.

  “Come on, Dylan!” Rhino shouted. The Mustangs’ pitcher was very good, but he was in a tight spot. Even a long fly out would bring in that runner.

  The batter hit a sharp grounder to Cooper at shortstop.

  Easy out, Rhino thought.

  Cooper scooped up the ball and fired it to first base. The throw was high and slightly off target, but Rhino would have had no trouble catching it. Paul wasn’t as skilled, though. He stumbled as he lunged for the ball, and it bounced off his glove. The runner from third sprinted home and scored the winning run.

  That hurt even more than Rhino’s ankle. He would have made the play. Sitting in the dugout had cost his team the game. If only I could be out there playing.

  “Now that was a tough break,” Rhino said as Bella joined him on the bench.

  Bella shook her head sadly.

  “Good game today,” Coach Ray said as the team gathered in the dugout. “Keep your spirits up. Let’s go over and congratulate the winners.”

  Rhino stayed on the bench. He noticed Paul standing by himself near the dugout fence. Paul had his head down. Sweat was dripping from his curly red hair.

  “Forget about it,” Rhino said. “We all make errors, Paul. It’s part of the game.”

  Paul frowned, but he nodded. “Thanks,” he said softly. “Hope you get better quickly.”

  Grandpa James pulled his car close to the dugout. He helped Rhino to the front seat and drove to the hospital.

  “It’s not an emergency, but I don’t want to wait until Monday to have that ankle checked,” Grandpa said.

  “The sooner, the better,” Rhino agreed. He took a big swallow from his water bottle. “Whatever’s wrong, I want to get it fixed. We have practice on Tuesday!”

  Grandpa smiled. “I think you might have to miss that one,” he said. “Ankles are tricky. They take awhile to heal.”

  We’ll see, Rhino thought. His thinker told him he might need to be patient, but he was already hungry for more baseball. He’d been hitting the ball hard, and his team was winning most of its games. His first real baseball season was even more exciting than he’d hoped it would be. Just missing one practice would be a disappointment.

  The ankle was feeling stiff from the ice and he couldn’t put a lot of pressure on it. I’ll tough it out, Rhino thought as they arrived at the hospital. One little injury won’t keep me on the bench.

  Rhino sat on a table in the hospital emergency room. He was still wearing his baseball uniform and his blue cap with the big white M. His r
ight foot was bare, but his cleats and his dirty sock were on the other.

  A friendly young doctor patted Rhino’s toes. She told him that injuries like this one were very common.

  “Ryan, you’re lucky,” the doctor said. “You just twisted the ankle joint a little. It’s a mild strain.”

  “Can I go to practice on Tuesday?” Rhino asked.

  The doctor shook her head. “Only to watch. No baseball for about ten days.”

  Rhino gulped. That meant he’d miss the next game, too. “Doc, are you sure?”

  “You could make the injury worse if you try to play too soon,” the doctor said. She told Rhino and Grandpa James to keep icing the ankle regularly for three days. She said Rhino should walk on it and do some easy stretching.

  For most of the weekend, Rhino sat on the living room couch with his right foot propped up. A bag of frozen peas kept the ankle from swelling much. Rhino did everything the doctor had told him to do. But he was frustrated.

  I need to mo-oo-oove, he thought. Sitting around all day is boring!

  Usually, Rhino was always active, even on days when he didn’t have practice or a game. He’d play one-on-one basketball with Cooper, or hit baseballs in the backyard with his older brother, C.J., and Grandpa. They were a busy family.

  Sitting on the couch made Rhino feel like he had ants in his pants. All weekend, he read books and magazines and listened to music. He flipped through a hundred TV channels but nothing was on.

  Rhino completed all of his homework and reading assignments for the week. He even did an extra credit project. He walked slowly around the yard, and he tossed a baseball into the air a million times and caught it. He was itching to run.

  Rhino needed to keep icing his ankle on Monday, so he stayed home from school. Grandpa James took the day off from work.

  In his mind, Rhino played baseball and basketball and football. He sprinted and leaped and caught and threw. But in reality, he stayed mostly on the couch.

  By that afternoon, Rhino was very restless. There wasn’t anything to watch on TV during the day. He’d read a book about dinosaurs, three more books about the planets, and another about his baseball hero Hank Aaron, who was a great home run hitter like Rhino wanted to be. But reading about baseball wasn’t cheering him up the way it usually did. So he was glad to see his friends Cooper and Bella, who came over after school to deliver his homework.

  “Just math and spelling,” Cooper said, placing two books on the table by the couch. “Mrs. Imburgia says she hopes you’re feeling better.” She was their third-grade teacher. Bella was in a different class in the same school.

  Cooper was dressed in a short-sleeved polo shirt. “Think you’ll be back in school tomorrow?”

  “Definitely,” Rhino said. “My ankle’s getting better already.” He showed them that it wasn’t swollen much, but there was a small purple spot where it was bruised.

  “Will you need to use crutches?” Bella asked.

  “Nope.” Rhino explained that he’d be wearing a thin, stretchy sleeve over his ankle, but walking on it would not be a problem. The sleeve would help keep the ankle stable.

  “I’m supposed to walk,” Rhino said. “I just shouldn’t run or jump yet.”

  Bella pointed to Rhino’s books about the planets. “We talked about Neptune and Jupiter at lunch today,” she said excitedly.

  “Really?” They were all in a group that met in the cafeteria to talk about their favorite subjects. The talk was usually about dinosaurs. Rhino and Cooper had been joining them for about a month now.

  “What happened to T. rex and the stegosaurs?” Rhino asked.

  “We decided to switch to astronomy this week,” Bella replied. “We’ll get back to dinosaurs soon.”

  Rhino sighed. Astronomy was the only topic he liked more than dinosaurs. He would have loved to have been part of that discussion.

  “Too bad you missed it,” Cooper said.

  “Yeah,” Rhino said with a sneer. “Too bad.”

  “We’ll be talking about Venus and Mars tomorrow,” Bella said. “So study up.”

  Rhino brightened. He’d learned a bit about those planets today. “Venus is the hottest planet in our solar system,” he said.

  “Hotter than Mercury?” Cooper asked.

  “Yep.”

  “You always know such interesting facts,” Bella said. “How come?”

  Rhino pointed to the books. “I read a lot.” Books first, baseball second. Rhino’s thinker always repeated that saying. It was the rule in their household.

  “Think you’ll play on Saturday?” Cooper asked. “The Groundhogs are a tough team. We need you back.”

  Rhino shook his head. “I’ll be there, but I won’t be of much use. The doctor says I’ll probably be ready the week after.”

  “Hope so,” Bella said. “Paul’s the only other player we have at first base. He’s a little clumsy.”

  “First base is hard,” Rhino said. He’d struggled when he first switched to that position. Maybe Coach Ray would try another player there. Rhino knew that Paul didn’t like the position. There was too much pressure for him.

  First basemen had to field every kind of hit ball. Grounders, pop-ups, line drives. They had to handle long throws from the other players. In his short time playing the position, Rhino had learned to pay close attention to the base runners, and to be eagerly aware of every situation. He felt that he was in control of the infield, and he loved that. But he could see why it was so difficult for Paul.

  Cooper was sitting on the edge of the couch, drumming his fingers on the table. “I need to go play some hoops,” he said. “Sitting in school all day makes we want to explode.”

  “Me too,” Bella said. “As soon as my dad gets home from work we’re going to have a catch.”

  “Wish I could join you,” Rhino said. He stretched his toes and wiggled his ankle. It was stiff, but not too sore. “Guess I should walk around some more. Wish I could run. I have a ton of energy right now, but no way to use it.”

  If the ankle healed quickly, he might be able to practice next week. But that was a long time away. And Rhino wouldn’t get to play in a game for twelve more days. That seemed like forever!

  “Have fun out there!” he called as Bella and Cooper left. “I’ll see you tomorrow at school.”

  Rhino would try to make the best of it. But he knew this would seem like the longest twelve days of his life.

  C.J. burst into the house a couple of hours later. “What a practice!” he said, flopping onto an armchair across from Rhino. “Coach had us running sprints all day. He said we haven’t been quick enough on the base paths lately.”

  C.J. played shortstop base for his school’s baseball team. He looked a lot like Rhino—lean and muscular, with short hair and a quick smile. He was bigger, of course. “I’m tired,” he said, dropping his baseball glove to the floor.

  “Lucky you,” Rhino replied. “I’m not tired at all!”

  “Sorry, little brother,” C.J. said. “How’s the ankle feeling?”

  “Not bad.”

  “I know it stinks to be out with an injury,” C.J. said. “It happens to all of us. Part of the game.”

  “The worst part,” Rhino said.

  C.J. shut his eyes and settled back in the chair. “Whew,” he said softly. “I just want to stay here and not move.” He pulled the brim of his orange baseball cap down low and let out a sigh.

  Grandpa poked his head out from the kitchen. “Dinner’s in fifteen minutes,” he said. “C.J., I assume your clothes are nice and clean. Otherwise you wouldn’t think of sitting in that chair.”

  C.J. stood up quickly. He made a funny face and wiped his hand over the seat, brushing off some loose dirt.

  “Get yourself a shower. You’re filthy,” Grandpa said. He shook his head and turned to Rhino with a grin. He tapped his forehead. “Your brother’s thinker must have turned off.”

  “That happens sometimes,” Rhino said. “What are we eating?”

>   “Roast chicken. Rice. Corn and carrots.” Grandpa laughed. “We would have had peas, but they went to a different use.”

  “They helped a lot,” Rhino said. He lifted his foot. “Not much swelling left.”

  “You’re taking good care of it,” Grandpa said. “That’s something to be proud of. A lot of players rush back from an injury—even a minor one—and only make it worse. Being patient with this will pay off, trust me.”

  At dinner, Rhino listened as C.J. talked about practice. “Coach said we would have won the other day if we’d hustled more. He’s right.”

  “You always hustle,” Rhino said. “I’ve never seen you let up for a second.” Rhino played sports that way, too. All out, all the time.

  C.J. set down his fork. “Not everybody does. Some players aren’t as intense as we are.”

  “And that’s okay, too,” Grandpa said. “Sports are supposed to be fun.”

  “The hardest thing is not playing,” Rhino added. “I’ll feel pretty useless just sitting in the dugout on Saturday.” He spooned some rice into his mouth and looked down at his plate.

  “You can still help the team,” Grandpa said. “Watch closely at next week’s game. You might see some things that can help the other players.”

  “Like what?” Rhino asked.

  “You never know,” said C.J. “You might notice something about the pitcher. Maybe he always scratches his ear before he throws a curveball.”

  Rhino smiled and scratched his own ear. Then he reached for another piece of chicken.

  “When I was in high school I had to miss an important basketball game,” Grandpa said. He pushed back his chair and stood. “My toe was bruised so bad I couldn’t run. But the coach told me to watch the other team’s best player. I figured out that he had trouble driving to the left.”

  Grandpa crouched in a defensive position and leaned, hands up. “The key was to force him to go that way by cutting off the path to his right. I pointed that out to our guy who was covering him, and he shut him down in the second half.”