英語四級：心胸開闊Big at Heart

　　My best friend Larry is exceptionally small. We're in the fifth grade, but Larry is as short as a first grader. Although his body is small, Larry is big at heart. He has a sharp mind, too. All the kids who know Larry like him a lot.

　　Sometimes he gets his share of teasing, but Larry knows how to handle it. When some smart mouth calls him Dopey, Sleepy or Bashful, Larry just laughs and starts humming, “Hi, Ho!”

　　Larry loves sports, but he can't play some, like football. One tackle and he would be wiped out. But one sport seems to be made for Larry ― baseball. He's our star player. The legs that are too short for track and hurdles can pump up and down, carrying him around those bases faster than you can see. He can slide to safety under a baseman before he's noticed. And when he's in the field, he catches and throws that ball like the biggest of us.

　　I remember when he first came to try out for our Little League team. The coach took one look and shook his head.

　　“No, I'm sorry, but we need big, strong players. Tell you what ― we could use a batboy!”

　　Larry just grinned and said, “Give me a chance to try out. If you still think I'm a weak player, I'll be the best batboy you ever had!”

　　The coach looked at him with respect, handed him a bat, and said, “Okay, it's a deal.”

　　Well, obviously no pitcher could aim the ball inside Larry's ten-inch strike zone! He would be a sure walk to first base every time, and the coach knew how to take advantage of that. And when he saw how fast Larry's legs could travel and how well he handled the ball, he bent over, patted Larry on the back, and said, “I'm proud to have you on the team.”

　　We had a winning season, and yesterday was our final game. We were tied with the Comets for the championship. Their pitcher Matt Crenshaw was a mean kid who never liked Larry ― probably because he could never strike him out.

　　Somehow we held the Comets through the top of the ninth inning, and we were tied when it was our turn at bat. As Matt passed our bench on the way to the pitcher's mound, he snarled at Larry, “Why don't you go back to Snow White where you belong?”

　　I heard him and jumped up, ready to give Matt a punch, when Larry stepped between us. “Cut it out!” he yelled, pushing me away from Matt. “I can fight for myself.”

　　Matt looked as if he was going to clobber Larry, but my friend held out his hand and said, “Let's play baseball, okay? I know you want your team to win and it must be tough to pitch to a shrimp like me.”

　　“Chicken, you mean. You won't even swing at the ball!” Then he stamped off to the mound as Larry slowly dropped his outstretched hand.

　　We had two outs when it was Larry's turn at bat. The bases weren't loaded, but the coach told Larry to wait for a walk, as usual. Larry held his ground for three balls. One more and he would walk to first.

　　Then, for some reason ― maybe because Matt had called him “chicken” ― Larry reached out for the next pitch. It wasn't anywhere near his strike zone, but he swung the bat up and around. He connected. We heard a loud crack and saw the ball sail over the outfields. They had to chase after it, and Larry's legs started churning. Like locomotive wheels, they went faster and faster, rounding second and third and heading for home. The Comets finally retrieved the ball and passed it to the catcher. Larry slid safely under him as he caught it.

　　We had our winning run, the game was over, and we were the champ. After we were presented with our winner's trophy, we gave it to Larry and took turns putting him on our shoulders and marching around the field.

　　I was carrying him when we passed Matt. “Put me down for a minute,” Larry said. He walked over to Matt with his hand extended again for the handshake Matt had refused earlier.

　　“It was a good game,” Larry said, “and you came closer to win it…”

　　Matt looked at Larry for what seemed like a long time, but finally Matt took Larry's hand and shook it.

　　“You may be a shrimp, ” he said, “but you're no chicken. You deserved to win.”

　　Then Larry and I ran back to the rest of our team. We were all going to the pizza place for victory celebration. I sure was proud to have Larry as a friend. Like I said, he's really big at heart.

　　我最好的朋友拉里特別矮小。我們上五年級，可拉里矮小得跟一年級生一樣。雖然他身材矮小，但他有開闊的心胸。此外，他思想敏銳。所有認識拉里的孩子都很喜歡他。

　　有時拉里遭到別人的取笑，可他知道如何應對。當某個說話放肆的人叫他“笨小子” 、“?小子”或“害羞蟲”時，拉里只是一笑了之，隨后哼哼兩聲：“嗨，嗬!”

　　拉里酷愛運動，可有些運動項目他參加不了，比如橄欖球。對方球員在阻截時，一下子就可以抱住他并把他徹底撂倒。不過有一項運動似乎是為他而設的――棒球。他是我們的明星隊員。他的一雙腿太短，不適合賽跑和跨欄，但卻能像唧筒似地上下運動，帶著他飛快地踏壘，快得讓你都來不及看。他能在別人還沒來得及注意到他之前就在守壘員身下安全滑壘了。在球場上，他的接球和投球就跟我們最高大的隊員一樣。

　　我記得他第一次來到我們少年棒球聯(lián)合會球隊試打時的情景。教練瞅了他一眼，搖了搖頭。

　　“我很抱歉，不行，我們需要身高體壯的球員。聽我說，球童我們倒需要!”

　　拉里只是咧嘴一笑，說道：“給我一次機會試試。要是你還認為我球技差的話，那我就給你當個最好的球童!”

　　教練用尊敬的目光看著他，遞給他一根球棒，說道：“好吧，一言為定?！?

　　顯然，沒有一個投手能把球瞄準在拉里的10英寸好球部位里面!每次他都會被保送上第一壘，而教練明白如何利用這一優(yōu)勢。當他看到拉里的腿能跑多么快和他處理球有多么好后，他彎身拍了拍拉里的背說道：“隊里有你我感到驕傲。”

　　那個賽季我們連勝。昨天是我們最后一場比賽。在爭奪冠軍上，我們和慧星隊積分相同。他們的投手馬特?克倫肖是個從沒喜歡過拉里的刻薄男孩――可能就是因為他從沒能使拉里三擊不中而出局。

　　我們設法沒讓慧星隊在第九局的前半局占到優(yōu)勢。輪到我們上場擊球時，兩隊平局。當馬特經(jīng)過我們隊的替補隊員席走向投球區(qū)的時候，他對拉里吼叫道:“你干嗎不回去跟你的白雪公主呆在一起?”

　　我聽到他說這話，就跳了起來，準備給他一拳。這時，拉里走到我們中間?！皠e這樣!”他嚷嚷說，把我從馬特身邊推開?！拔夷転槲易约焊杉堋！?

　　馬特看上去像是要狠揍拉里一頓，可我的朋友伸出一只手說道：“咱們賽棒球，行嗎?我知道你想要你們隊贏，想必投球給我這樣的一只小蝦米夠難的?！?

　　“你的意思是說你是個孬種。你連揮棒擊球的機會都沒有!”馬特說完就大步走向投球區(qū)，拉里慢慢放下了伸出的手。

　　輪到拉里上場擊球時，我們已經(jīng)有兩人出局。壘上沒有人，教練告訴拉里像往常一樣等著被保送上壘。拉里堅持等了三個壞球，對方再投出一個壞球他就能走上一壘了。

　　后來，出于某種原因――或許因為馬特管他叫“孬種”――拉里舉棒準備擊打下一個投球。來球根本不在好球部位，可他卻舉棒擊打。他的擊球又準又狠。我們聽到響亮的“啪”的一聲，看見球從外場上方飛過。對方不得不去追球，而拉里的腿開始啟動，就好似火車頭輪子，越跑越快，踏了二壘和三壘，徑直向本壘奔去?；坌顷牻K于撿到球，把它扔給接球手。接球手接到球時，拉里已經(jīng)在他身下安全滑壘了。

　　這局我們贏了，比賽就此結(jié)束，我們是冠軍。被授予冠軍獎杯后，我們把它給了拉里，并且輪流把他架在肩膀上繞場一周。

　　經(jīng)過馬特時，我正架著他。他說：“把我放下一會兒?！彼呦蝰R特，再次伸出早些時候馬特曾拒絕去握的手。

　　“比賽很精彩，”拉里說道，“你們幾乎勝出了……”

　　馬特看著拉里，似乎看了很長一段時間，不過最后他還是握了拉里的手。

　　“你可能是個小蝦米，”馬特說，“可你決不是孬種。你們該贏?！?

　　隨后我和拉里跑回到隊里。我們?nèi)犎チ吮人_餅店慶祝勝利。我的確為有拉里這樣的朋友感到驕傲。正像我說的，他確實心胸開闊。