In classic Matt Christopher style, Mike Lupica presents the Comeback Kids series of junior sports novels, focusing on the realistic family issues and on-field action that make all Lupica's novels so electrifying. The Comeback Kids books are shorter than Lupica's regular novels, however, and seem to hone in more on a single central issue relevant to the plot. Though Safe at Home is my first experiment with this series of books linked not by shared story elements or characters but rather by fairly uniform length and common sports themes, I have to say Mike Lupica does an excellent job condensing his sweetly paced writing for slightly younger audiences than his regular books. The fifty to seventy-five pages less of story perhaps makes Safe at Home and the other books in the series more immediately appealing to reluctant readers, and this is the group, more than any other, to which Mike Lupica's writing is marketed.
Nick Crandall has had more family drama in his first twelve years than most kids ever face. His biological mother and father are both out of the picture, and until he was nine years old it didn't appear anyone was going to pick up the option on Nick and take a risk that he might be a solid prospect as an adopted son. Nick waited more than his share of years for a cup of coffee with a loving set of parents who would want to give him the kind of stable home life he'd always lacked, and there were some moments of heartbreak along the way when victory was snatched from Nick's grasp after a win in the family department seemed assured, but finally Nick's prayers were answered. When Mr. and Mrs. Crandall decided it was high time Nick be called up from foster care to have a permanent home with a real set of parents, Nick suddenly had everything he thought he could ever want.
Every boy likes baseball, according to Zane Grey, but not every boy has Nick's affinity for the game. Blessed with a bat capable of doing real damage on the scoreboard in a game situation and a throwing arm like a Winchester rifle, Nick has been a star catcher on his baseball team for years, continuing his dominance of opposing squads all the way to junior varsity play. Nick cuts down base runners contemplating moving up an extra ninety feet as if they ran in slow motion, or as if every time they went to steal, they got a bad jump on the pitcher's delivery. Nick's proficiency behind home plate is enough to change the entire complexion of a JV game, keeping runners out of scoring position and affording winded pitchers extra chances to get out of jams, which can easily mean the difference between victory and defeat in a game of inches like baseball.
But when an injury is suffered by the star catcher on the varsity high school team, a roster manned by teenagers some of whom are almost six years older than Nick, a challenge presents itself the likes of which Nick would have never dreamed. He will have the opportunity to make it up to the big time for a limited stint playing catcher with the high-schoolers, and it's all thanks to the impressive power of his rocket right arm. The varsity coach recognized in watching Nick play on the JV squad that he has all the tools necessary to compete both at the plate and behind it with guys several years older than he; however, that's a far cry from having what it takes to be immediately accepted by teammates who are so much older. Nick has a lot to prove to the skeptical players on his new team, and it's rarely easy to perform at one's best when the pressure is on to do it perfectly now, now, now, and those watching have little patience with a kid whose presence they consider a big mistake in the first place.
When Nick's marquee tools as a catcher fail him repeatedly under the pressure of the defining moments that seem to follow him around in practice and during games like an ominous storm cloud, he doesn't handle it well, but the varsity coach has a few lessons for Nick to take in before he's finished with this experiment. Nick's worst enemy to in-game success is thinking too much, trying in the moment to analyze and perfect the golden tendencies of his marvelous throwing arm, attempting to do too much with every ball that ends up in his hands with the responsibility of making a game-changing play. Nick isn't wired to plan and analyze before taking action; he's a natural player, one whose baseball IQ is higher than his general intelligence quotient, and good things happen only when he can calm the storm between his ears and get back to playing the game as he always has before. What does it matter who's watching or if they're privately hoping for Nick to succeed or fail? When he's cocked to fire a bullet and eliminate an opposing runner from the base paths, all that matters is what Nick's arm can do in that moment, and there's never been any question about his talent between the lines on the baseball diamond.
Even as Nick struggles to get a bead on performing up to expectations in his surprising new role as varsity catcher, trouble in his personal life slowly mounts. Nick has never been the most devoted student in school, and his adoptive parents aren't happy about that. Nick is intelligent, and capable of focusing on an activity such as baseball or collecting comic books and excelling at it, but he has no desire to increase his status academically. Nick sees little in common between his parents and himself. He always envisioned having a "baseball dad", one who could help refine his fundamentals and teach him more about the history of the sport, celebrate with him the days and dreams in the game's past and present, all while looking forward to whatever future Nick has as a catcher. But his father barely registers interest in the game, though he tries hard to act interested for Nick's sake. Deep down, Nick wonders how long it will be before his parents decide they made a mistake choosing Nick, that they want to take him back where they claimed him from three years ago and choose a new kid, one with interests more closely aligned with their own. Nick's dreams of having a family who understands and genuinely wants him seem to be breaking apart before his eyes, and there may be no one who can slow the entropy down and point out to Nick that he has a lot more going for him than he has allowed himself to see; that is, no one but his best friend Gracie, perhaps, who understands the game of baseball, understands Nick and most important of all, understands families, and knows what a kid like Nick would be willing to give up to find the right one. Are matters on the team and at home actually as bad as Nick perceives, or is he overthinking once again, seeing mountains of trouble where there is nothing but a few mounds of loose sand? Maybe Nick has it better than he realizes. Maybe the vision of a perfect family he's carried in his heart all these years is less than he already has, because no vision, no matter how happy, can stand outside with you on a warm summer's night and play catch with a real baseball, the smack of the ball in the leather and relaxed conversation between throws as familiar to anyone who loves the game of baseball as the crack of the bat and the glow of the lights on a professional field. Only a flesh-and-blood dad can do that, and a real dad is better than a fantasy version any day. Real may never be perfect, but there's nothing like the feeling of realizing one is finally, truly, home.
It was never any surprise to me that Mike Lupica writes sports action crackling with intensity and emotion, evoking all aspects of the real sporting experience just as it feels when watching the games on television or for anyone who picks up a bat and glove themselves to take a turn at America's pastime. Lupica has covered sports for decades, and knows exactly how authentic game action feels and how to write about it so it feels as intense as if the reader were on the field playing, too. But I'm also coming to expect Mike Lupica's remarkable sensitivity to more complex personal emotions, family trouble and identity confusion and the kinds of struggles that take place outside the lines for even the most decorated athletes who have ever lived. Nothing about life stays easy for long, and a level stretch for a time can be an enormous relief. I would probably give two and a half stars to Safe at Home, but I had no trouble deciding to round up to three stars because of how well Mike Lupica portrays the mounting self-discontent with the way being varsity catcher is going for Nick. What should have been one of the most thrilling times of Nick's life has gone sour ever since coach first announced a twelve-year-old was temporarily filling in for the regular varsity catcher, a star in his own right, and it's hard to decide where the blame for Nick's uncharacteristic struggles behind the plate should rest. Are Nick's less than encouraging new teammates to blame? Maybe, at least in part. The pressure building on Nick soon begins to feel uncomfortable even for those of us just reading along with the story, and as it increases and the stakes rise in Nick's mind to where he can't even do silly little tasks under pressure if they're at all related to baseball, the story's emotions grow exponentially, and readers aren't likely to forget that feeling anytime soon. Mike Lupica is at his best when leading his readers to feel strongly what the characters in the book are feeling, and that reaction is achieved on multiple levels in Safe at Home. For the avid sports fan or even those hesitant to pick out a book ostensibly about baseball, I never hesitate to recommend the works of Mike Lupica. Safe at Home is a novel I will carry in my thoughts for a long time, and it was worth every moment of the journey.