Brooks Berry In The Case Of The Stolen Season

BROOKS BERRY IN

  The Case of The Stolen Season

  Michael James

  Copyright 2010 Michael James

  Chapter 1 - Practice Makes Perfect

  The summer was starting to give away its secret that it was over. The nights were becoming cooler and the sun was setting a few minutes earlier each day. Brooks Berry noticed things like that. Brooks noticed a lot of things that other 12 year olds didn't.

  He was tall for being only 12, had blond hair and blue eyes and was pretty skinny. He would be starting junior high this year. That could be intimidating for some kids, but he wasn't that scared; he was a pretty confident kid. Usually one of the smarter ones in his classes, but the thing that stood out about Brooks the most was his ability to solve puzzles and riddles. Ask him anything - he knew how to solve it. Or don't ask him - he'll probably already have asked himself the question and was on his way to solving it. He was always asking questions that were different from other kids his age. He was putting together adult puzzles when he was 5 or 6. Doing crossword puzzles meant for adults. And he loved mysteries. He loved reading old Sherlock Holmes books and the Hardy Boys. He frequently was able to solve the mystery before the end of the book, but he loved it when he wasn't able to. It helped him hone his skills, challenge his mind and look at things other than the obvious.

  The doorbell rang and Brooks ran downstairs to meet his friend Brad Klemz. Brad was here to pick him up and they were going to head to the high school football field to throw the ball around. Brooks wasn't a big fan of playing football - it seemed like the football always hurt his fingers when he tried to catch it. Or worse, the pointy end would hit him in the chest. He hated that!

  Brooks was named after Brooks Robinson - a 3rd basemen who played with the Baltimore Orioles many years ago. He'd seen him play on some stuff his dad had recorded off of TV and some clips on YouTube. He thought it was pretty cool to be named after someone like that. Baseball was really Brooks’ sport - it was almost as if his dad had known that and that's why he had been given that name. He even played 3rd base on his little league team - the same position Brooks Robinson did.

  When Brooks and Brad got to the football field it was already taken by the high school guys who had a summer practice. "Whoa - check it out!" Brooks exclaimed, pointing to the giant new scoreboard. "Wow, that's massive!" Brad said, staring in awe, "I heard they were going to get a new one, but I had no idea it would be so cool.”

  The scoreboard must have been about 4 stories high, was painted a bright green and even had a video screen on it. It also had several advertisements on it just like a professional one. It was the biggest and newest in the entire state and the pride of the school district. There was some rumblings from the other coaches and principals. They were jealous of the school and how this school was able to get the new scoreboard before them.

  The field was abuzz with activities. The coaches were barking orders and putting the players through their drills. Lot's of whistles shrieking and loud yelling. The crash of pads being smacked together as bodies hurled into each other sounded like shotgun blasts upon each impact.

  Brad was a big guy for being only 12, tall like Brooks, but a lot heavier - not fat, just a bigger guy, dark brown hair that was sort of shaggy and a bit ruffled looking - even with a rigorous combing - and brown eyes. He had high hopes of playing for the football team at this high school in a few years. He helped Brooks practice baseball and Brooks helped him practice football, even if it meant a sprained finger or a bruised chest.

  The two boys walked over to the baseball field that was empty. They started by throwing the football back and forth. Then Brad started to call some plays and Brooks would run the passing route. After a while the boys walked over to the bleachers and climbed to the very top so they could see all that was going on during the practice. This year the Wauwatosa East team had a guy that had been a junior last year playing quarterback - Jeff Kopish. He was the best player to come around in a long time, 6'2, 190 pounds, and lightening fast. He had already racked up a lot of passing records in his 3 years at the school, and his senior year was predicted to be off the charts. Very accurate throws and really able to move around to avoid tackles. His brown eyes flickered around the field to pick up open receivers and avoid the defense like he was playing a video game in Easy Mode. Tosa East was going to be good. It seemed like the team knew it, they had a certain confident attitude that was hard to describe.

  Brooks could tell Brad was getting excited watching the action on the field. He was talking very fast and using his hands a lot - "Man, look how Jeff threw that ball - it must have been 40 yards downfield!" The coach heard the boys talking and motioned for them to come to the sidelines. "Hey Brooks, how’s it going?" asked Coach Vitrano. "I'm good, Coach - the team looks really good." The coach was a good friend of Brooks’ dad. They had gone to high school together. Sometimes Coach Vitrano and his wife would come to their house for cookouts. "Kopish is going to tear it up this year." said the coach. "Tosa West will never know what hit them."

  Wauwatosa West - or Tosa West for short - was their cross-town rival. Every year they seemed to find a way to beat Tosa East in the state championship. "Just wait until I can play!" piped in Brad. "That will be a great day - just a few years away, Brad," replied Coach. "We also have some pretty cool trick plays that I can't wait to show the world. We got all new computers and software for reviewing game tapes and designing plays. This will be our best year ever. Technology is going to change how we play this game." They boys said goodbye to the coach, gathered their bikes and headed home.