Willie & Me by Dan Gutman

was a pleasant feeling.
    â€œTen! Nine! Eight!” the voice shouted.
    I thought about what I had accomplished. I had busted up Leo Durocher’s little cheating system and told the Dodgers about it. The Giants could still possibly win the game and the pennant, but they wouldhave to win it fair and square. I had done the right thing. And I had even met the great Willie Mays. The Branca card had been destroyed, but all in all it was a good day. The tingling sensation was getting stronger. I could feel it all over my hand, and it gradually crept up my wrist, arm, and shoulder. I thought about what it would be like to go home.
    â€œSeven! Six! Five! Four!”
    The feeling swept across my body. Everything was vibrating now. I had reached the point of no return. It wouldn’t be long.
    â€œThree! Two! One! Okay, I’m breakin’ down the door!”
    That was the last thing I heard, except for a whooshing noise. Then I was gone.

“W ATCH OUT !” MY MOTHER SCREAMED AS I CAME SAILING across the living room.
    My foot hit the little step at the edge of the doorway and I tripped. I dodged the wing chair and swerved around the bookcase, but fell on the coffee table, landed on the wood floor with a thud, and almost rolled into the fireplace.
    â€œOoof!”
    â€œWere you in the past, Joey?” my mom asked as she rushed to my side to check for bumps and bruises. “What happened? Are you okay?”
    â€œYeah. Can’t talk now, Mom,” I said hurriedly as I got up to brush the ashes off my pants. “It’s a long story! I’ll be right back to tell you all about it.”
    With that, I rushed upstairs to my bedroom and turned on my computer. It’s an old machine, but I use it only for writing school papers and looking stuff uponline. It took forever to boot up, but finally I was able to get on Google.
    I typed “Shot Heard Round the World.” That ought to do it.
    There were millions of results. That didn’t surprise me, or bother me. You type just about anything into Google and you get millions of results.
    The first one that came up was the Wikipedia entry about the gunshot in Concord, Massachusetts, that supposedly touched off the Revolutionary War in 1775. Then there was this poem about it by Ralph Waldo Emerson. . . .

    By the rude bridge that arched the flood,
    Their flag to April’s breeze unfurled,
    Here once the embattled farmers stood,
    And fired the shot heard round the world.

    The next entry was about the 1914 assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand of Austria. That was the spark that started World War I, and it was also called “The Shot Heard Round the World.” I had never heard of that one.
    I scrolled down. Apparently, whenever something really amazing happens, somebody calls it “The Shot Heard Round the World.” When Vice President Dick Cheney accidentally shot his friend on a hunting trip, it was called “The Shot Heard Round the World.” There were golfshots heard round the world. Basketball shots heard round the world. Hockey shots heard round the world.
    But nothing about baseball. I kept scrolling down the list. There was nothing about Bobby Thomson. Nothing about Ralph Branca.
    A smile crept across my face. It was like it had never happened! The history books were wiped clean!
    â€œIt never happened!” I heard myself shouting gleefully.
    â€œWhat never happened?” my mom called from downstairs. “Is everything okay, Joey?”
    I couldn’t believe it! It never happened!
    I wasn’t going to start crowing about my success until I was sure. Maybe I had made a mistake.
    I clicked away from Google and checked to see the final standings for the National League in 1951. . . .

    Brooklyn Dodgers:     98–59
    New York Giants:       97–60
    St. Louis Cardinals:   81–73
    Boston