Whiffers
By Jim Kittelberger



There once was a boy with bright red hair named Zeke, who at one time, for a little while, lived in a little town in Florida, called Whiffers. Whiffers is a town populated completely with boys, little ones, big ones, skinny ones, fat ones, white ones, black ones, yellow ones, tall ones, short ones, but all with one common failing. They cannot hit a baseball. No matter how they try, no matter how many people try to teach them, no matter how many prayers they say, nothing helps. There are summer camps for camping and for space stuff and for swimming and for picking on girls and for telling spooky stories but this one is for the most important thing in the world to boys. It is for kids who always, always strikeout. Ohhhh Moannn, Strike Three, you're out. Oh No, those dreaded words. Boys would rather go to the dentist than strike out.
Zekes parents, Babe (named after Babe Ruth) and Babe (named after Babe Didrikson Zaharias) loved sports and loved Zeke. Well now, Babe and Babe would do anything to help him hit that ball, but their instructions could not help. They had his eyes checked, but his vision was 20/20. His coordination was good. He was athletic. He could play football. He ran track, he was very fast. He was known as the RED FLARE. He could play defensive baseball, he was a good fielder, but something happened when he picked up a bat and stood in the batters box. It went against all logic. He should be able to hit the ball, but he could not, EVER. He could not even hit foul balls.
He became depressed and stayed in his room most of the day. He felt ashamed.
A friend of Babe and Babe heard of the problem and came to talk about it. His name was Hack Atum. You might have heard of him. When he was playing, he went into a terrible hitting slump. He could not hit anything for the longest time. The manager was ready to send him to the minors, when he disappeared for two weeks. When he returned he became one of the best hitters in all baseball. Hacks story as he told it to Babe and Babe was that he had met this man and he had changed his life. If he could do it for him, he could do it for Zeke. The man started helping one boy and then more and more, until he finally started a camp, which grew into a small town. That town is now called Whiffers. If Babe and Babe and Zeke would like, he would talk to his old friend about Zekes problem.


Zeke was accepted and as Babe and Babe put him on the airplane, they all exchanged high fives, patted each others bottoms and spit on the ground. This is a traditional and mysterious baseball ritual and beyond civilian comprehension. They also gave him a supply of sunflower seeds to eat on the way there. This caused the flight attendants a little problem and they told Zeke to quit spitting seed shells all over their carpet.


When they landed at the airport near a town called Wilted, Florida, near the everglades, a man in a red, blue, yellow and green shirt met him. The shirt displayed a picture of a baseball being hit by a bat with a comet tail behind it as it flew upward. Below the picture were the words, "We Create Hitters". He also had on a red baseball cap. It had the same picture of the ball with a comet tail on its front. " Zeke, I'm Casey Bat. I am the owner, general manager, manager and team captain. In other words I am the BOSS. Hop in the jeep and let's get you started on becoming a hitter".


When they arrived at Whiffers, Zeke saw three ball fields. On field number one he saw boys hitting the ball very hard and far. On field number two, they were hitting, but not as hard or far, but they were hitting. Then they arrived at field number three. Mr. Bat said this is where we start the process, this is where you will start. It looked much like the other two fields, except home plate had no screen behind it. In fact the only thing behind home plate was the start of the everglades. It looked very dark and weird in there. The trees looked malformed and black. Swamp grass that was almost as tall as Zeke, and you can bet there are alligators in there too. Zeke looked at Mr. Bat like he was crazy. "But Mr. Bat, he said, I bet there are gators in there". Mr. Bat said. "Yeah Zeke, I'll bet you're right. Now, here is what we are going to do, I will pitch the balls to you. There will not be a catcher. If you miss the ball, you will have to retrieve it yourself". Zeke listened and then his face turned as red as his hair. "A gator might eat me if I go in there". Mr. Bat said, "Yeah, I bet it might, so you see how important it is to hit that ball, you do not want to go in the glades too many times, do you? We will start tomorrow morning bright and early".


That night, in the dormitory he shared with a few other guys, he was talking to his nearest roommate Tug Uppants from Georgia. "Did Mr. Bat explain to you about field three?" He asked with a worried look on his face. "Well, he shore did, but I'll be a Yankee in blue if ah believe em, Tug said as he juggled baseballs. Ah'm from Georgia, and we all have swamps too, and ah don't think he would do that to y'all or to any of us. But ah'm not really sure", he said as they settled down to an unsettling sleep.


The next morning, after a night filled with dreams of being lost in a deep, dark, wet forest, he awoke at Mr. Bats command to wake up and get to the chow hall and eat a good breakfast, because it might be a long day.


As he approached field three, his stomach was feeling sick. He thought for sure that he was going to get sick. Mr. Bat was waiting for him at home plate, as he slowly made his legs move him toward it. "Now Zeke, I want you to grab a bat and get up to the plate. Think only of the ball. Keep your eyes only on the ball. Concentrate on the ball". Yeah, Zeke thought, easy for him to say he doesn't have a gator staring at his rear end. Mr. Bat picked up a ball and wound up and let the ball fly. Zeke could not concentrate. He was thinking about missing the ball and the gators at his rear. The ball reached him and he swung a mighty swing, but no sound of the ball hitting the bat came and he heard the ball bouncing into the glades. OH NO. Surely Mr. Bat is not serious, he certainly will not make me go get the ball. As he looked toward the pitchers mound, all he could see was this arm that looked like a neon sign pointing toward the glades. "Go boy. You were not concentrating enough". With much fear, he turned toward the unknown and started walking toward the ball. He walked about five feet into the dark. He could not see it. He walked another five feet. No luck. There it is, I see it up ahead. He darts toward the ball, and as he is leaning over to pick it up, he hears the sound of cloth tearing, and a sting on his rear. Yikes! Oh my gosh, he is going to eat me. He thought for sure he was the gators breakfast. His feet started slipping in the wet grass. He wasn't moving. The gator was getting ready to take another bite. Then his feet started to move him and he flew out of there like a jet plane taking off. He made it. He fell to the ground gasping. Mr. Bat asked, "did you get the ball?" Zeke was so scared he really didn't know. He looked at his hand and thank the Lord, there it was. Mr. Bat took the ball, and checked to make sure he was all right. "You were lucky Zeke, I don't know if you will be so lucky next time." Oh surely he is not going to make me do that again. "BATTER UP", he yelled. Zeke did not know if he could do that again. For a moment he sat there and refused to get up. Then he thought of all the people that tried to help him and Babe and Babes love for him, and he started to get up. He was mad now, good and mad. He hated Mr. Bat, he hated this place and enough was enough.


He got up, dusted off his uniform, picked up a bat and went to the plate. Anger and resolve tore through his brain. You won't do that to me again, Mr. Bossy, Mr. Meany, Mr. Cruel. I am going to pretend that ball is you, and knock you out of the park. O.K. Mr. Bat, throw that ball to me one more time. He set himself in the batters box, set his feet at exactly the right positions, leaned over the plate and started to concentrate, concentrate, and concentrate. Mr. Bat wound up, and let the ball fly toward Zeke. At just the right moment Zeke swung his bat and the ball and bat met at just the perfect moment. CRACK! What a beautiful sound. The ball sailed out of the ball field and into field two. Zeke stood there watching, with a feeling of success and happiness and revenge toward Mr. Bat.


As they watched the ball fly into the next field, Mr. Bat turned toward Zeke again and walked toward him. Now what thought Zeke? When Mr. Bat got to home plate, he took Zeke into his arms and hugged him as hard as anyone ever did before or would again. "Zeke, he said, I hope when you are over being mad, you will remember this moment whenever you have to make a big hit, and know I am looking down at you smiling".




(C) copyright 2000 Jim Kittelberger. All Rights Reserved.