Hit & Miss by Derek Jeter Page B

home plate a second ahead of the tag. “Safe!” yelled the umpire, and the Sox led 3–0.
    Before the first inning was over, they scored five runs, thanks to a two-run homer by Dave, who was back in the number six spot in the order. This time, Dave clobbered a pitch that was only at his knees, not in the dirt.
    Jeff came around to score ahead of him, and as Dave rounded third, he pointed at Mr. Jeter and tipped his cap, thanking him for the coaching he’d given him at the batting cages.
    â€œHey, Jack Nicklaus strikes!” Jeff yelled as he high-fived Dave, along with all the others. “Yeah, Jack! Way to go!”
    Derek grinned and shook his head. It seemed Dave hada bunch of new friends, and even a new nickname. Derek hoped it would stay like that the next time Dave struck out or made an error in the field.
    But it was hard to feel too bad about anything at the moment. With his team up 5–0, and his epic slump at an end, Derek now focused on making up for lost time at the plate.
    All game long he feasted on the Angels’ pitching, going 5 for 5 with four RBIs. Vijay had a single and a double, Dave didn’t strike out even once, and the team wound up winning their second straight game—by a score of 12–3—against the previously undefeated Angels!
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    Derek and his dad chatted all the way home about the game, hitting, slumps, staying consistent, and not getting down on yourself.
    By the time they got home, Derek was feeling really good. He was in the best mood he’d been in since the season had started.
    But when they went inside, his mom wasn’t smiling. “Something’s definitely up with Sharlee,” she told them.
    â€œKickball game go okay?” asked Mr. Jeter.
    â€œIt went totally fine,” said Mrs. Jeter. “And she was great too. She kicked in the winning run, and her team won. But after . . .”
    â€œWhat?” Derek asked.
    â€œI don’t know,” his mom said. “She was jumping up anddown with the other kids, and I turned away for a minute to talk to some of the parents, and when she came over to me, she was practically crying.”
    â€œShe wouldn’t say why?” Mr. Jeter asked, frowning.
    â€œNo. Not to me, anyway. I couldn’t get it out of her. You know how stubborn she can be when she sets her mind to something.”
    â€œIs she in her room?” Derek’s dad asked. “I’ll go talk to her.”
    â€œNo, let me,” Derek said. “I’ll get it out of her, I promise.”
    His parents looked at each other, then nodded to him. Derek went up the stairs and into Sharlee’s room. His sister was lying facedown on her bed, and Derek thought she might even be crying. “Hey,” he said. “What’s up?”
    She flailed one arm his way, indicating that he should leave the room. He didn’t. “What, you don’t want to talk about it?”
    She made a sound that was muffled by the sheets but that clearly meant “no.”
    â€œTell you what,” he said. “I’m just going to sit here on your bed right next to you until you feel like talking about it.”
    â€œI’m never going to talk about it!” she said, suddenly rolling over and sitting up. Her face was tear-stained, and Derek wanted to hug her, but he could see she wouldn’t take it well at the moment.
    â€œI heard you had a great kickball game,” he said. “Sorry I missed it.”
    â€œI’m never playing kickball again!” she said, and threw herself back down onto the bed, facedown.
    â€œCome on, Sharlee,” Derek pleaded. Then a thought crossed his mind—a memory, really. “Hey,” he said. “It doesn’t have anything to do with that kid, does it?”
    She sat up again. “What kid?”
    â€œThe big kid who was at the basketball court the other week, around when I had my first