Pearly Whites

George Washington said he couldn't tell a lie, Mark Twain boasted that he could tell a lie but chose not to, and I, though not in the league of those giants, have vowed to report only the positive. Please realize that this puts me at a considerable disadvantage when telling the present tale because much of what happened during the Knoxville Little League Baseball Tournament was boo's. But I have the words of a saint when a tempter showed him a mangled, dead, rotting, and maggoty dog and dared him to speak only glowing words to help me. The saint said, "Why, it has such beautiful, pearly white teeth."

If I reported what happened at the ten year-old's baseball tournament clearly, objectively, and succinctly, it would sound very dull, something like: "Eight teams played a two-game elimination, round-robin. One team stood bats and caps above the rest, winning undefeated. The championship game was close at one point, but then Bats and Caps clinched it." This doesn't come close to what really happened, especially the drama of the championship game. If I included some rotten flesh and maggots --- some of the tactics of the undefeated team --- this story would undoubtedly leap with interest. But I've vowed to follow the models of our first president, great writer, and Indian saint by stating only the positive.

First, the Brandenberg Boilers were a one-hundred percent, small-town, play-the-game-for-the-fun-of-it group. Like many such teams with few good pitchers, their opponents often had field days walking in one boy after the other or stealing home when the catcher boggled pitch after pitch. (I wanted to suggest that a rule be made that allowed one steal-home per inning, but I sensed that might sound un-American.) Because one-sided slug fests were common, soon only the most compassionate, heart-aching mothers attended the games. It appeared to some that the Boilers NEVER played to win. Or, as some rationalizing coaches and mothers contended, to develop character.

What onlookers didn't know was that deep in the tiny, thumping hearts of those boys, most of whom came up only to the belly button of the umpire --- and that only when they wore elevator spikes --- was that they felt that some day they would win. Even against ALL odds. They might have had the bodies of ants, but inside beat the hearts of tigers. That meant that while mothers wept inwardly, the boys paid no attention to endless errors and failing final scores. To the guys, it was just a matter of time.

The structure of the Knoxville tournament was simple. Each team would play the other seven teams. When a group lost two games it was out and played no more. The championship game, then, would be an undefeated team against the one that had lost only one game. Prentisville was the unbeaten team, and everyone agreed that no one stood a chance against them.

Since we're going to forget the tactics the Panthers used to win and focus only on the positive, let's see how the Brandenberg Boilers did. Miracle of miracles, the first team they faced was even more inept than they. Maybe it was from playing in front of such a large and boisterous crowd. Or maybe because they were overconfident. Whatever the reason,

the Libertyville Astros walked the Boilers more times than visa versa and consequently lost. It was the first game the Boilers had won all year and inwardly they cheered uproariously.

Brandenberg's second game, only two hours after the first, was also full of errors, much to the disdain of the Wilbonton Sluggers. During warm-up, the catcher accidentally returned the ball before the pitcher was ready. It caught the receiver in the throat, just off-center. The pitcher and crowd gasped simultaneously as four-foot Henry fell to the ground screaming. While there was no serious damage, it eliminated the only good Wilbonton pitcher. The result was that the Boilers won, and though they didn't like taking the game by default, they did advance to the next bracket, the semi-finals. There they met the immaculately uniformed, much-praised, and undefeated Prentisville Panthers.

Half-way through the game, the third that day for the Boilers and first for the Panthers, excited Brandenberg mothers cell-phoned home and passed the word: "Our little guys have won every game and are ALMOST BEATING the legendary Panthers!"

Time is a definite factor during round-robin tournaments, especially when the temperature is in the 90's and teams often play one game immediately after the other. And Time took its toll with the dark-horse team from the small town of Brandenberg, for only minutes after they were beaten 6-2 by the Panthers, they had to face them again in the Championship game. Prentisville, on the other hand, had played most of its games the first day, so it was relatively rested for the final showdown. But regardless of time, everyone was amazed that the Boilers had scored two runs and had held the Panthers to only six.

The week before the Knoxville Tournament, the Boilers and Panthers had played in the Packwood Tournament. The Panthers flattened them

with a run-away, 20-1 score. The single point was a fluke: The batter was hit, he advanced to second on the only ball the catcher boggled the entire tournament, the brave little Boiler advanced to third when the pitcher dropped the only bad, return throw from the catcher, and he casually walked home as the entire Prentisville team argued with the umpire about a minuscule rule. You win if you bet that the undefeated team was ready to destroy the losers to avenge that solitary run.

But baseball mentors will warn you to beware the ant with the heart of the tiger. How many times has the underdog, even the under-underdog, risen to the occasion and given a good showing? So while the Panthers were pumped up for revenge, not everyone was convinced they would win effortlessly. Miracles are not uncommon in baseball, especially in Little League.

Immediately after the first Boiler-Panther game, the Prentisville coach took his team into an air-conditioned room where they cooled as they changed into their second issue of bleach-cleaned, ironed uniforms. While they rested, the Brandenberg Boilers faced another opponent as the temperature soared in the high nineties. Partly bolstered by their phenomenal showing against the favored Panthers but mostly because they really were tigers at heart, the dust-covered, grass-stain-kneed, sweating little tikes didn't even notice that they hadn't eaten since the beginning of the 8:00 AM game. All this while the Panthers sat in the air conditioned club house eating pizza during their by.

It doesn't take an expert or even a half-seasoned baseball fan to know the Brandenberg Boilers never had the slightest, remotest, one-in-a-billion chance of winning the Knoxville Tournament. Nor that the Prentisville team would cruise through the final game as it had its 18-2 and 19-3 games before its 6-2 debacle with Brandenberg. But that's not what this

tournament was about any more than the saint's dog was about dried blood and squirming maggots. The Championship game was about a Model T Ford, maximum speed 40 mph going downhill with a strong tailwind, challenging a BMW capable of going 150 uphill against a gale.

True, bleach-white Prentisville won on the scoreboard, but not where it really counted. Because the grubby, over-heated, half-exhausted bush-league Boilers garnished all the trophies except Winner. They took Best Improved, Gutsiest, and Sportsmanship. What a blow to the egos and self images of the undefeated team that though they won every game because of the final score. They couldn't understand that the most important thing of all was playing all-out for FUN.

And because of that, I, like most of the fans and all the officials, knew that the dirty little ants with tigers' hearts had severely beaten the tuxedoed Panthers. And that, fans, is pure, pearly white teeth.