To my dad

AJ Arquette played pitcher on the Little League team called the Neila Hummingbirds. She was the only girl on the team, but Coach Oarange didn’t mind and neither did AJ. In fact, two of AJ’s closest friends (aside from Twist) were boys.

A few of AJ’s teammates, however, were somehow less than psyched to have a girl on the team:

Derek Nunley, the catcher, was convinced AJ had cooties.

Aaron Stopburn, the shortstop, didn’t like how “stupidly long” AJ’s hair was, or how it fell over her eyes.

And finally, Danny Crunch, center-fielder, was upset AJ wouldn’t hold his hand on the bench.

So one day after practice, these three boys decided AJ had to go. They approached the silly girl over by the bleachers, where she was gathering her stuff in the old pink shoulder bag she used as a backpack.

Derek cleared his throat to get AJ’s attention. AJ looked up and smiled brightly at her annoyed-looking teammates.

“Bonjour, guys!” she chirped in her high, chipper voice. “Great game today, no?”

Derek and Aaron exchanged glances before the former explained to their eye-banged associate that they were thinking of kicking her off the team.

“Awww, but why?” AJ protested, her lip quivering in sad disappointment.

“Because--” Derek said, sifting quickly through his mind for an excuse that would likely throw AJ, “--because you don’t...meet the requirements to be our ‘One True Pitcher’! Like, for example, our True Pitcher is -- left-handed.”

Aaron snickered while Derek crossed his arms in smug satisfaction. Now the annoying, harebrained “Moptop Girl” would have to leave the Hummingbirds for sure! In the seven months AJ had been on the team, none of the boys had ever seen her pitch with her left hand.

However, the boys’ smug joy was shattered upon hearing their black-haired teammate’s excited exclamation:

“Awesome! So does zat mean I get to stay!?”

Derek’s face melted like a heated wax figure, Aaron’s jaw dropped seven inches, and Danny’s eyes turned into confused question marks.

The team’s catcher attempted to sputter out words of confusion: “B-B-But -- I -- we -- you -- pitch -- thought -- right-handed -- you -- were -- saw -- whaaat?”

“Je m’excuse, Monsieur Derek,” AJ said, offering a polite curtsy just like her mother had taught her. “Je ne parler Sputterish.” 

(Translation: “I’m sorry, Mr. Derek. I don’t speak Sputterish.”)

“Y-You always pitch with your right hand!” Derek finally managed to spit out.

AJ shook her head. “Nope, I use the same hand I paint and pick my nose with!”

She swung her left hand to demonstrate, which made the boys realize her left was their right.

AJ: 1 | BOYS: 0

“W-Well,” Derek stuttered, still determined to somehow get this messy-haired goofball to quit the team. “There are still certain -- requirements -- in order to pass as our One True Pitcher.”

“Like what?” AJ pressed, making Derek and Aaron retch at her cheerful innocence (Danny actually admired the girl for it).

Aaron broke in before Derek could respond: “W-Well, for starters, ya gotta wear the right clothes for baseball!”

Here the shortstop pointed to AJ’s uniform, consisting of an oversized “8” jersey, a Hummingbirds cap her pet turtle had taken a bite out of, black/white boxer shorts her mother had fished out of the garbage, elbow and kneepads (all of which had seen better days), and dirty, untied sneakers from her school’s Lost & Found.

For once in her short life, AJ’s smile faltered, and she looked a tad embarrassed.

Bashfully, she explained that her mother only made $800 a month as her school’s cafeteria lady, which wasn’t enough money for them to live off of, so they had to do a lot of thrift-shopping and Dumpster-diving, so to speak.

The boys had to admit that was a pretty good excuse, so Derek aimed for a different track: “Our True Pitcher wears...blue underwear!”

“Check!” AJ said, pointing to her shorts. “Mommy bought me some blue undies at ze $saleboat last Saturday!” 

Feeling frighteningly close to not-so-epic failure, the boys huddled up and began desperately trying to pick each other’s brains for any and all impossible-to-meet “True Pitcher” requirements, leaving the silly girl standing there in front of the bleachers, playing one-handed catch with her mitt.

While the boys were huddling, a “pretty, pretty papillon” (butterfly) flew right past her, hypnotizing her into trying to catch it.

When AJ passed the pine tree dividing the baseball field from the playground, however, her mother showed up and picked her up by the back of her jersey.

“AJ, Crumpet, where ‘ave you been?” Blaze asked, worry creased in her brow. She’d taken her cherry-red hair out of its bun, letting it fall to her waist in a way that reminded AJ strongly of Rapunzel. “We’ve been over zees; you’re supposed to meet me by ze port-o-pots!”

AJ’s face turned red as she struggled to escape from her mother’s clutches. She had to catch that pretty papillon!

“I-I was just talking to my amis from baseball, Mommy! Zat’s all!” she sputtered.

“Well, zat eez what telephones are for, no?”

So, Blaze took AJ home, and, as you can probably imagine, the boys were kicked off the team for being boneheads.

“YOU SUUUCCCKKK!” Derek bellowed as he, Aaron, and Danny watched the Hummingbirds practice without them.

~The end!~