The Prospect by Eliot Parker (e novels to read online txt) 📕

when his name was announced. Many fans from Savannah and surrounding states were beginning to hear about the immeasurable talent possessed by the young pitcher, and a one-page biography in the game program provided them with a personal history of how Shane came to Sheaville, West Virginia and why he was the reason that fans in the town were so excited about baseball this season.
The teams in the North Division, which included: the Charleston Alley Cats, Delmarva Shorebirds, Greensboro Bats, Hagerstown Suns, Kannapolis Intimidators, Lake County Captains, Lakewood Blue Claws, and Lexington Legends played against the South Division, which featured: the Ashville Tourists, Augusta Greenjackets, Capital City Bombers, Charleston Riverdogs, Hickory Crawdads, Rome Braves, Savannah Sand Gnats, South Georgia Waves and the Sheaville Loggers. By league rule, each team must have at least one player represented. However, some teams such as Lexington, Lakewood, and South Georgia had more than one athlete selected for the all-star team.
Throughout his brief performance, Shane Triplet was dominating on the mound, although he did not manage to get a hit in two at bats. With his performance during the all-star game, Shane Triplet moved into impressive company. In more than three innings of work, the right-hander scattered 3 hits and limited the South all-stars to one earned run during that span. Due to his overpowering fastball and sweeping curveball, Shane helped the South triumph over the North 4-2.
Shane did receive some help in the field and at the plate from his teammates. Shortstop Michael Burns from the RiverDogs made several outstanding plays, highlighted by bare handing a ground ball that took a bad hop and throwing Kenny Nantz, a speedy left fielder from the Capital City Bombers team, out at first base on a close play.
Offensively, the Sorth took a 2-0 lead in the second inning when second baseman Carlton Rogers opened with a walk before scoring on third baseman Tito Camerillo’s double. Camerillo plated the South’s’ second run two batters later when an errant throw by the Delmarva Shorebirds’ George Haskins hit the dirt and skirted away from home plate.
The rest of the South scoring came in the fourth inning. Jose Rodriguez of the Rome Braves started the rally with a two-out double and scored when Rogers hit a long home run to center field. Rogers, who was named the South’s Offensive Most Valuable Player after the game, lead the ABA with 16 home runs heading into the all-star game.
As for Shane Triplet, who allowed only three balls to leave the infield, yet one of those pitches was a home run to left center field. Despite allowing the run, Shane struck out six batters and was selected as the South’s Most Valuable Pitcher for his excellent command and control on the mound. He was later informed that the pitching award was the first one given to a Sheaville Loggers player since 1984.
The majority of Shane’s time before, during, and after the game consisted of drinking in all the accolades and prestige that comes with being a minor league baseball player being selected to the All-Star game. Representatives from the Cincinnati Reds organization were attending the game, anxiously scouting and analyzing every move and mannerism made by their prospects. Team officials from the Atlanta Braves, Montreal Expos, Toronto Blue Jays, and a host of other Major League Baseball clubs were also present to perform the same routine.
In a show of sportsmanship, the players from both teams swapped stories, memories about the first half of the season. Shane was surprised with how many players from around the association had been keeping track of what was happening with the baseball team from Sheaville, West Virginia. Shane even managed to catch some constructive criticism concerning his performance during the first half of the season as well as some thoughts for Chaz Martinez and Harry Deitzler, two other players from the Loggers.
As the return flight landed at Charleston’s Yeager Airport three days later, the sky was murky and humid. Remnants of shredded red, white, and blue streamers littered the baggage terminal, a sure sign that the Fourth of July holiday had passed. Clutching his MVP plague tightly under his arm, Shane stepped inside another taxi in front of the airport terminal and prepared for his return to Sheaville.
Shane had so questions dancing through his mind. What did the rest of the Loggers think about the Sorth’s victory? Were any of them able to listen to it on radio? What did Walter think? How was his mama doing? And Olivia. After dinner at her house, Shane did not have a chance to talk to her.
Now, three days later, Shane wondered what he was going to say to her, and more importantly, how she was going to react to his return. But one thought was certain: the Sheaville Loggers had another half of a season to play and the goal remained unchanged: win the Appalachian Baseball Association championship.

XXIV
Frank Miller stared over the itemized inventory of supplies and could do no more than remove his reading glasses and rub his eyes. Not even a fresh, steamy cup of Jack Busby’s special coffee in the morning could remove the dread that swarmed over the drugstore owner’s entire body like rushing water over a rocky mountain dam.
The list was a consistent source of frustration and expense. Each year, Sheaville hosted an annual fall festival in September. It was an opportunity for the town to gather together at the old sawmill distribution warehouse and bask in the delight of the seasonal change. For over twenty years, Frank was responsible for organizing committees to assist with the planning, fundraising, and implementation of the festival. This year though, twenty years of festival coordination were wearing on him some reason.
“You going to start this meeting or what Frank?” questioned Morton Mitchell from the left side of the counter at Ruth’s Diner. “I have a lot to do today. You know, the business of the people. I cannot afford to be sitting here counting minutes with you.”
“Stuff it mayor!” proclaimed Phil Rodney. Fortunately for Morton Mitchell, Phil was sitting in between the two men. Otherwise, his comments might have caused Frank to throw something, anything, in the mayor’s general direction.
“Someone is probably going to have to go door to door this year and solicit some money,” Phil suggested. “I do not want to have to deal with that stupid mail-in idea that was done last year. Some people sent the money to the wrong address and we never got it and others sent an addressed envelope with nothing at all. This year, we ought to go door to door. It is good public relations for the festival too.”
Morton balked at the notion. “Phil, you don’t know the first thing about public relations. It is very complicated and intricate.”
You can’t spell them words,” Frank mumbled, still focusing on the list in front of him. “We have the usual people. The Loggers always give us $1,000. If we go to Charleston for a day, we can get WCHS and WQBE radio stations to donate some money and provide a disc jockey for the ball. And if memory serves me, Dow Chemical gave us a nice donation too.”
A suddenly inspired Phil Rodney straightened up his slumped posture. “I think that if we do that, and have an aggressive fundraising campaign here in Sheaville, we can raise the money right fast.”
Frank agreed. “Speaking of the Loggers, why don’t we have them show up someplace in town. If some of them players will come, the kids can get autographs and their pictures taken with the players and maybe we can have a raffle drawen for free tickets to a game or something. That could work.”
“It will work,” Phil said, completing the clause.
The mayor raised his index finger and twirled in the air, unimpressed. “Maybe we can have Shane Triplet come and throw some fastballs against a tarp too…that might give the crowd a thrill. You know something, speaking of him, that boy came over to my house for dinner and did not even say thank you. I cannot believe that.”
“Good idea!” exclaimed Frank. “And leave Shane alone. He is a fine lad!”
“Why don’t we just split up,” Phil offered, ignoring Frank’s suggestion and pivoting his chair so that he could read the expressions of the other committee members. “That way, we each can do our part, do what we like to do, and in a couple of weeks, report back here and see what we come up with.”
A moment of silence fell on the committee and Frank and Mortonl nodded in agreement. “Suits me, but I need to tell Olivia about this,” noted Frank.
“What on earth for?” asked the puzzled Sheaville mayor.
“Because, she will hold your feet to the fire on this,” answered Frank as he slowly slurped his coffee. Phil giggled as he walked away from the counter.
“More coffee, sweetheart?” Frank looked up to see Joann Triplet in hunched over the counter.
She looked very tired, and dark, bulging circles permeated the skin underneath her eyelids. At first glance, Joann resembled a boxer with two black eyes. In addition, she did not have her usual allotment of makeup, revealing a true complexion that was rough and greasy.
“Just a little more’d be fine,” replied Frank, smiling and offering a wink in her direction.
Sprinting from the doorway in front of the diner, and almost colliding into Phil, was Olivia. In her usual summertime newspaper delivery attire, she waddled to the front, carrying a sack of Charleston Gazette newspaper over her left shoulder.
“Hi daddy, hi Mr. Miller.” Her demeanor was always upbeat and cheerful. “I brought you your paper Mr. Miller. It looked like you were not home this morning, and I remember daddy saying you all were meeting today. So, here you go.”
“Thank you angel,” Frank said soothingly. He began to slide the tight rubber band over the wadded mass of paper and ink and saw the newspaper unfold right before him.”
“How was the meeting daddy? Did you get everything accomplished?”
Reluctantly, the mayor answered, “Uh, yes, we made some good progress.”
“Good, I am glad to hear that. The festival is my favorite part of the whole year. Even though I will be at Marshall in September, I plan on coming back for it.”
“Great to hear, kiddo,” Frank said surveying the headlines in the newspaper.
“I bet Shane would like the festival too. He has never been to the fall festival in Sheaville before, and I know that he would love it. I will have to invite him,” Olivia stated, making a mental note not to forget.
Joann walked out from the kitchen and scanned the diner to make sure she had not missed any customers. When she saw Olivia talking to Morton and Phil, she approached her. “Can I get you something?”
Startled, Olivia stuttered and denied the request. The bells jingled once again on the door to the diner and Shane, Harry, Ryan, and Chaz walked into the diner. Fresh off of an eight game, ten-day road trip, the players looked tired, restless, and famished.
“Time to eat!” proclaimed Harry, prancing towards the counter, ready to place his order.
“Did the trip go well,” questioned Frank Miller, as he rested his hand on Harry’s forearm.
“Went pretty well, Mr. M,” Harry said plainly. “We won three and lost five, but the good news is we are only five games out of first place. I think that we will be fine, but some of them are already worried.” Ryan motioned towards Chaz, Shane, and Ryan as Frank looked back at them, and then shifted his focus again on Ryan.
“What’ll it be, pumpkin?” asked Joann, waiting patiently behind the counter.
“Hi Mrs. T. I think me and the rest