Everand Logo

Welcome to Everand!

  • Discover millions of ebooks, audiobooks, and so much more with a free trial

    Only $11.99/month after trial. Cancel anytime.

    The Super Sluggers: Slumpbuster
    The Super Sluggers: Slumpbuster
    The Super Sluggers: Slumpbuster
    Ebook123 pages1 hour

    The Super Sluggers: Slumpbuster

    By Kevin Markey and Royce Fitzgerald

    ()

    Read preview

    About this ebook

    They call me Walloper because I'm no ordinary hitter.

    Or at least that used to be the case. Now I couldn't hit a beach ball and my batting average is going down faster than the Titanic. With the pennant on the line, I've got a slump cloud over my head so big it's being covered by the Weather Channel. The forecast is grim, but I hope there's one big swing left in my bat so the Rambletown Rounders can win the pennant and I can end this historic drought.

    Kevin Markey's debut novel is a hilarious tall tale of baseball action and high jinks that will have fans reveling in every trip around the pages.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherHarperCollins
    Release dateMar 17, 2009
    ISBN9780061923173
    The Super Sluggers: Slumpbuster
    Author

    Kevin Markey

    Kevin Markey thinks "rain" and "out," when used together, are two of the saddest words in the English language. When speaking of weather, "snow" and "day" are much better! Other word combinations as compelling in their way as a bang-bang play on the bases include "greasy slider," "late-inning heroics," and "lasting friendships," concepts that all appear in this book . . . which he hopes will induce gales of laughter (another good one) in every reader. Kevin is the author of Slumpbuster, Wall Ball, and Wing Ding, all in his Super Sluggers series of baseball adventures, and several books of nonfiction. He lives in Northampton, Massachusetts, with his wife and two children and a lovable yellow-haired dog named Happy. He bats left, throws left, and types with both hands.

    Read more from Kevin Markey

    Related to The Super Sluggers

    Related ebooks

    Children's Sports & Recreation For You

    View More
    View More

    Related podcast episodes

    Related articles

    • Article

      Three Bucks and Change

      Dec 2, 2023

      Three Bucks and Change
      8 min read

    • Article

      CHIEF SUNRISE JOHN McGRAW and me Part 2

      Sep 1, 2020

      CHIEF SUNRISE JOHN McGRAW and me Part 2
      9 min read

    • Article

      Lessions Afield

      Sep 17, 2021

      I have many childhood memories of my father, but the ones that burn brightest are the times we spent hunting. As I look back on hunts, I’ve concluded that my father is a saint. There is no other way to paint that picture. Considering the number of da

      6 min read

    • Article

      A Puzzle Of Nostalgia

      Aug 26, 2022

      A Puzzle Of Nostalgia
      5 min read

    • Article

      BITS & PIECES

      Apr 2, 2024

      On cold, gray Saturdays when I was 11 years old, I often would go to the local “picture show” at the local theater. The movies were always cowboy shows, and you could pay for a ticket and stay to watch it over and over. Well, on one particular Saturd

      4 min read

    • Article

      I’m An 11-plus Failure

      Sep 21, 2022

      Sheep is to mutton as pig is to… What? Bacon? Chops? Sausages? Shall I just hedge my bets and write down all three? No, you idiot – it must be pork. The precious seconds tick away. ‘It’s too soon to be concerned, Mrs Bardwell. I don’t think they’ve l

      3 min read

    • Article

      The Red Hand Gang

      Dec 23, 2020

      SHOULDERS TOUCHING, we sat side-by-side, the retired marine and I, under the russet leaves of a stunted oak. The clock in the churchyard had just chimed five and the last of the light was fading over the River Stour. One flask between us and two enam

      3 min read

    • Article

      Gunning For Shooting

      May 25, 2023

      Gunning For Shooting
      3 min read

    • Article

      The Birthday Party

      Dec 3, 2023

      The Birthday Party
      9 min read

    • Article

      Spring Lambs, Show’tastic Weekend

      Nov 2, 2022

      To watch videos of Caspar’s adventures visit his facebook page or watch on YouTube Caspar’s capers Arf arf readers Woof-woof! Wow. It’s been a busy time since the last issue, with lots of road trips visiting all sorts of people. At one stop we had a

      4 min read

    • Article

      Tom Rowland

      Jul 30, 2021

      If you weren’t a rider, you would be.... I enjoy writing so perhaps journalism. I’m a country person at heart, but I love the hustle and bustle of a big city so a job that allowed me to spend time in both environments – and with plenty of variety, tr

      2 min read

    • Article

      A Pheasant Faux Pas

      Dec 15, 2021

      A Pheasant Faux Pas
      4 min read

    • Article

      At a Grandfather’s Knee

      Mar 18, 2022

      At a Grandfather’s Knee
      6 min read

    • Article

      My First Pet

      Feb 2, 2020

      My First Pet
      9 min read

    • Article

      Reeling In The Years

      Oct 15, 2020

      WHEN I wake up I’ve begun to heave out of bed and groan in a way a horse does as it rolls. Sort of loud and unattractively guttural. When I sit on the sofa, I expel air like a burst beachball. Pfffffffft. My knees are rogered and if I go for a run I

      4 min read

    • Article

      My Dad Sold Fords

      May 1, 2023

      My Dad Sold Fords
      6 min read

    • Article

      Keepsies

      May 31, 2022

      Keepsies
      3 min read

    • Article

      Watch Your Step

      Nov 19, 2020

      Watch Your Step
      5 min read

    • Article

      Dad’s 54 Dreams

      May 26, 2023

      Dad’s 54 Dreams
      4 min read

    • Article

      Dad’s 54 Dreams

      May 26, 2023

      Dad’s 54 Dreams
      4 min read

    • Article

      Hitchin’ Rack

      Sep 19, 2020

      Hitchin’ Rack
      2 min read

    • Article

      The Home of Two Cliffs

      Mar 1, 2021

      The Home of Two Cliffs
      9 min read

    Related categories

    Reviews for The Super Sluggers

    0 ratings

    0 ratings0 reviews

    What did you think?

    Tap to rate

    Review must be at least 10 words

      Book preview

      The Super Sluggers - Kevin Markey

      CHAPTER 1

      "ALL SET, MR. BONES?" I asked.

      Mr. Bones didn’t say anything. He just ran over to the back door and wagged his tail. He wagged it so hard I thought he might take off into the air like a helicopter. Mr. Bones was my dog, a short-legged, long-nosed, yellow-haired fur ball that strangers often mistook for a bandicoot. He loved baseball. He came to all my games. My teammates thought he brought good luck. I thought they were right.

      Mr. Bones wagged some more. All his wagging stirred up a tail wind that blew a newspaper right off the mail table. He was ready, all right.

      And so was I.

      I was ready to take on the Hog City Haymakers in the biggest game of the year.

      I played third base for the Rambletown Rounders. With a week left in the season, we were neck and neck in the standings with the Haymakers, the reigning champs of the 10–12 division. If we could beat our archrivals, we would be in a good position to win the pennant.

      Winning would be tough. On top of being good, the Haymakers were big. Really big. Every kid on the team looked like a grown man. I swear some of those bad boys even had mustaches, which was very strange for a bunch of kids who’d be entering sixth grade in the fall. You just didn’t see many sixth graders with full handlebar mustaches.

      I picked up the newspaper Mr. Bones had wagged to the floor. It was folded open to the sports section. In the middle of the page was a picture of me hitting a home run for the Rounders. The picture was taken by Gabby Hedron. She was my friend and classmate at Rambletown Elementary. She covered baseball for the Rambletown Bulletin. The caption under the picture said:

      WALLOPER SET TO SWING INTO ACTION AGAINST HAYMAKERS!

      The Rambletown slugger has hit a home run in every game this season. If the pattern holds, he’ll launch another one today and catapult the Rounders into first place.

      Walloper was what my friends called me. It was short for the Great Walloper, on account of I liked to wallop the tar out of the ball. I got that nickname back in the Pee Wees, when I first started going deep.

      My cheeks burned a little bit as I replaced the paper on the table. I made a point of turning it over, picture side down. It was one thing to hit a dinger now and then and another thing for the newspaper to trumpet it all over the universe. I didn’t really like being the center of attention. I was just one player. The Rounders were a team. It took a team to win a division crown. Plus, it was just plain bad luck to talk about home runs before they happened. It sounded boastful. What on earth was Gabby thinking?!

      I tugged on my blue cap with the red Rambletown R on the front, tucked my mitt under my arm, and pulled open the door. Mr. Bones rocketed out of the house like he’d been blasted from a cannon.

      Hold on, boy! I called from the porch. We’ve got plenty of time.

      Mr. Bones pulled up short and cocked his head over his shoulder, urging me to get the lead out. He couldn’t wait to get to the ballpark. One thing about dogs was that they had no sense of time. When they were ready, they were ready.

      I wheeled my bike onto the driveway and hung my mitt on the handlebar. My mom was yanking weeds in her flower garden. When she saw me, she pulled off her gardening gloves and came right over.

      You sure you don’t want a ride? she asked, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand. It’s gotten really hot all of a sudden. The tiger lilies are drooping. Only the weeds seem to be thriving.

      I nodded. I always rode my bike to home games. Mr. Bones always trotted along behind. It was a good ritual. I didn’t want to mess with it before our showdown with the Haymakers, heat or no heat.

      Good luck then, slugger, Mom said, planting a kiss on the crown of my Rounders cap. I’ll be in the bleachers at the start of the second inning.

      That was another one of our rituals. My parents always arrived an inning late. It started a long time ago, when they happened to miss the first inning because my dad couldn’t find the car keys. My dad was always misplacing the car keys. But that’s another story. In any case, I ended up going four for four with four round-trippers that day. After that, my parents started coming late on purpose. From my position at third base, I often saw them dawdling in the parking lot, killing time until it was safe to grab seats in the bleachers.

      Thanks, Mom, I said.

      I mounted my bike and headed for Rambletown Field, Mr. Bones bouncing eagerly at my rear wheel.

      Remember to drink plenty of water, Banjie, my mom called. She and my dad were about the only ones who used my real name. Or at least something like it. My actual name was Banjo.

      Banjo H. Bishbash.

      The H stood for Hit. It was my mother’s last name before she married my dad. My parents gave it to me in part to honor her side of the family and in part because my dad loved baseball. You can’t go wrong with a middle name like Hit, he said.

      The Banjo didn’t stand for anything. It was just Banjo, plain and simple, like the musical instrument. The name came from my grandfather on my dad’s side. Gramps got stuck with it first, and my dad got stuck with it after him. If I ever have a kid, I may just break the trend and call him something normal. Mike has a nice solid ring to it. According to family history, my grandfather was so long and skinny when he was born, with such a big head, that his folks took one look and called him Banjo. I guess it could’ve been worse. They could’ve called him Lollipop or Stop Sign.

      In any case, it wasn’t hard to see why I preferred Walloper.

      CHAPTER 2

      A FIVE-MINUTE RIDE over the smooth sidewalks of Rambletown brought me and Mr. Bones to the field. The first thing I noticed after leaning my bike against the fence was that pregame warm-ups were in full swing. I was glad to see my teammates had all arrived early. It meant they were as pumped for the game as I was.

      Skipper Lou Skip-to-My-Lou Clementine was knocking balls around the diamond from home plate. Skipper Lou was our manager. During the school year, he taught music at Rambletown Elementary. Played a mean clarinet. The door to his office said MR. CLEMENTINE. But to kids on the Rounders he would always be Skipper Lou Skip-to-My-Lou. Skip Lou for short. He knew everything there was to know about baseball.

      The second thing I noticed was that Rambletown Field was looking kind of raggedy. Patches of normally lush outfield grass were turning brown under the withering sun and the base paths looked all puckery, like your lips felt after you ate too much popcorn. When Skip Lou smacked a grounder, the ball kicked up a comet trail of dust as it skittered across the parched infield.

      "Looks like the dog days of summer have arrived with

      Enjoying the preview?
      Page 1 of 1