Day of the Cheetah [antikvár]

PROLOGUEThe Connecticut Academy, USSR Saturday, 4 May 1985,07.48 EET'Ken James' stamped his feet on the half-frozen dirt, rubbed his hands together quickly, then wrapped them around the shaft of a big Spaulding Softball bat.'C'mon, dammit,' he yelled to the tall, lanky kid on the pitcher's mound.'Wait,' yelled the pitcher, 'Tony Scorcelli'. James made a few test swings, hitching up his jacket around his armpits. Scorcelli pounded the Softball in his glove, then carefully, as if trying to toss a ring over a Coke bottle, threw the ball underhanded towards home plate.The ball sailed clear over Ken's head.'What do you call thatT James stepped away from the plate, leaned on the bat, shaking his head at Scorcelli.The catcher, 'Tom Bell', trotted back to retrieve the ball. When he picked it up from under a clump of grass along the backstop, he glanced over at the bench, noting the displeasure of the school's headmaster, 'Mr Roberts', who was making notes on a clipboard. The catcher knew that meant trouble.All teenagers, these once-a-week softball games were serious business. Here, even before perestroika, they learned competition was necessary, even desirable. Winning was all, losing was failure. Every opportunity to prove one's superior leadership, physical and intellectual skills was monitored and evaluated.'All right,' James said, as Bell the catcher tossed the ball back to Scorcelli. 'This time open your damn eyes when you pitch.'Scorcelli's second pitch wasn't much better than the first, a high, gateway arch that dropped almost straight down on top of home plate, but James bit on it, swung the bat with all his strength, and missed.'Hey, hot shot, you're supposed to hit the ball . . .'James swung even harder at the next pitch, clipped it foul up and over the chain-link backstop.'One more foul and you are out,' the first baseman, 'Kelly Rogers', sang out. 'Intramural rules - ''Shove your intramural rules up your ass, Rogers,' James yelled at him. The first baseman looked confused and said nothing. Roberts made another notation on his clipboard as Scorcelli got ready for the next pitch.