Heat

“Manny had theories about everything under the sun, Michael knew. Here was another: That Michael hit eighty all the time, even if they didn’t have television cameras or radar guns covering the Modell Monuments, or the Clippers. Manny said that he didn’t need no stinking gun for his Pudge Rodriguez mitt to know how fast Michael was throwing.”

Throwing 80 miles per hour is a major milestone for Michael. He measures himself against the Little League phenom, Danny Almonte, who nearly hit this speed in previous years; before league coaches question his age, this is the only way in which Michael compares himself to Almonte. But without anyone to tell him he can, Michael relies on Manny to test his speed and accomplishment. The two share a single goal. This quotation shows the narrow and single-minded purpose that motivates Michael before outsiders threaten his and Carlos’ quiet lifestyle.

“Michael just nodded and told Mr. Minaya he would see him on Tuesday, told Manny he could call him later, picked up his glove and bat, and started walking fast in the direction of the Stadium. Then he was running, jogging at first, but then sprinting, just wanting to get home to the apartment, afraid to look back, afraid they might still be watching him.”

Michael fears confrontation and uses running to avoid it. Ellie, later, mirrors this evasion, running away from Michael when she fears him discovering her secrets. Crying around his baseball teammates is not allowed. In order to preserve his private emotions, and the existence of private tension, Michael preserves his freedom to be alone.

“He went and got behind the plate without being asked. Michael knew by now that it was the same with Manny the catcher as Manny his friend: He would do anything for Michael. On or off the field. It was never something the two of them discussed, or that required a thank-you from Michael. But if he announced right now that he wanted to throw pitches to Manny Cabrera for an hour straight, Manny would just nod. And in an hour, would still be snapping back throws to Michael out of his crouch as if Michael had just thrown his first pitch of the day. He’d still be yelling, ‘Now you’re humming, bud.’” 

Even before he runs into trouble, Michael can recognize how valuable Manny is in his life. Most of their relationship is nonverbal; even at the conclusion of the novel, when Michael tries to express his gratitude, Manny just tells him to “shut up” (219). Because Michael already knows how steadfast Manny’s friendship will be, he knows that he can rely on Manny’s help when trouble comes. 

“Up close, she was the most beautiful girl Michael had ever seen. This, he knew, was an observation coming from a boy who had no real interest in girls, other than his usual observation about them, which was how different they were from guys. ‘That will change, sooner than you think,’ Carlos always said when they’d have a conversation about girls.” 

Part of Michael’s maturation, across Heat, is related to Ellie: she awakens in him a desire for a more adult kind of relationship. Although Michael is surprised by the ways in which girls are not “different” from guys, especially in their abilities to compete with him in baseball, he becomes only more confused by their emotional worlds when he and Ellie fall out. This attraction is yet another element of Michael’s life that he realizes he is not able to control easily.

“It had been such a perfect day, Michael thought to himself. Him and Manny and Ellie Garcia, laughing and playing ball and inventing games and being happy to be on the field, and with each other. A perfect summer day when it was as if Michael could hypnotize himself, make himself believe that everything was going to work out right, that the Clippers would make it to Williamsport, that he and Carlos wouldn’t be found out before Carlos turned eighteen.” 

Before anyone arrives at the park seeking Michael out, he revels in the “perfection” of spending time with his best friend and his new friend in his favorite place. Michael is generally comfortable being alone, yet he genuinely enjoys being “with” others. Unfortunately, he is unable to avoid the problems that arrive, as much as he dreams that he can “hypnotize himself.” 

“‘What’d you do, drop a couple of years on the boat over, like you guys do?’”

Justin, the Westchester player, intentionally conflates Danny Almonte’s story with Michael’s to insinuate that Michael is cheating in Little League. He uses their shared immigration histories to link the two boys. Even though this link seems clear and logical to those who are cynical about Michael’s skills, to Michael, it doesn’t make much sense. To him, baseball and immigration are separate parts of his life, only joined by others who watch him.

“Michael didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t just Justin’s dad. It was a whole gang of dads. Ganging up on him all of a sudden.” 

Michael, who lives without his father, constantly watches the other fathers around him. Justin’s father, along with other “dads” who coach in his league, set an example of “ganging up” on a child, an action that doesn’t make much sense for Michael. As he acknowledges how pressured and bullied he feels, he also recognizes how negative and violent an example some childish fathers can set for their children. The adults in Michael’s world model an inverted relationship between age and maturity that stands out, increasingly, as the story unfolds.

“Now that pitcher’s mound was his sanctuary. He threw easily at first, making sure to warm up the way he always did. Honoring his instrument, as Papi had always instructed him. Gradually, though, as he felt the familiar warmth in his arm—the heat—he began to throw harder and harder, even knowing that he required perfect control on the pitchback, that if he missed his spot and hit the net the wrong way the ball would go flying over his head and into the street.” 

The “heat” of Lupica’s novel has two meanings: it refers to the speed of Michael’s fastball and the uncomfortable danger of his family situation. Heat, thus, can be both a good thing and a bad thing, a tool for mastery and an instrument for harm. Michael’s “sanctuary,” built for him by Mr. Ruiz, his superintendent, is a place where he can recall his father’s words and dreams. It is also a place where he can quietly appreciate his gift, practicing and gaining “control” over his throws even when he lacks control over any other parts of his life.

“He was more alone than ever now, without a baseball game to look forward to, not knowing if he would get to play again this year. Because if there was a secret he had that felt almost as big as the one about Papi, it was this: Baseball was Michael’s real best friend. Even more than Manny. Baseball was a constant companion for him, no matter how many times he came into the quiet of the empty apartment, especially at night. There was the game he had just played or the game he was getting ready to play, or the Yankee game, on the radio or on television.”

Michael knows how supportive Manny is, yet he recognizes that he relies on baseball probably more than any other person. The sounds of a game's broadcast comfort him; baseball provides a constant background noise to his life even when the most loving people he knows must attend to their own lives. As Michael experiences his life without his father, he comes to recognize this “secret” that he has kept, even from himself, that baseball comforts him in a way no one else can.

“Michael knew how good he was at baseball. He didn’t need Manny to tell him, he hadn’t even needed Papi to tell him. He knew what he could do when he had a ball in his hand.” 

One of the certainties upon which Michael relies is the power of his talent. In fact, he never doubts or denies his own ability; he humbly avoids conversation of his ability, but he knows, internally, about the nature and magnitude of his own ability. Having “a ball in his hand” allows Michael to feel in control. Increasingly, he comes to rely on this feeling, and when it is taken away from him, the sense of chaos in the novel grows.

“‘I know this probably doesn’t make any sense to you,’ Mr. Gibbs said. ‘Sometimes it’s the grown-ups who act like children.’” 

Mr. Gibbs’ observation is one that Mr. Minaya also repeats, albeit using different language. Children and adults are supposed to be inherently different, and this is the reason why Carlos is not considered mature enough to provide for Michael. However, as Heat goes, on childhood and adulthood grow increasingly conflated. This state of affairs “doesn’t make any sense,” but it is a truth to which Michael grows more accustomed as he experiences it more.

“They were in no hurry to get back to Gerard Avenue. No hurry to do anything, really. The sound of the day, of the city, was all around them, as loud and busy as ever. It was another reason, Michael thought, why he loved baseball so much, loved the idea that all the action didn’t start until he started it by going into his motion. There he’d be, alone on the mound, the ball in his hand, the ball feeling as small sometimes in his palm as a marble, almost like he was alone in his own world, not even hearing the infield chatter from behind him.”

Michael appreciates the sound of the world around him. From thebeginning of the novel, the sounds of Yankee broadcasts bring him comfort and allow him to feel part of something bigger than himself. But the fact that he seems to have control of that “big” world when he is on the mound is a large part of why he considers the mound his “sanctuary” (90). When Michael cannot pitch for the Clippers, his life seems to spin chaotically, as he describes to Mrs. Cora toward the end of the novel.

“Now he watched this Little League boy who he believed had some Koufax in him, the boy lost in what he was doing, taking it seriously, then throwing another one with all his might that hit the net in a place that sent the ball right back to him like it was on a string.” 

Mr. Gibbs watches Michael pitch in the alley, drawn back by a sense of compassion that lingers for the boy who, he suspects, is in danger. Michael is often presented through his own eyes, yet Mr. Gibbs’ perspective gives readers a fan’s view of his intense focus. As his stress builds, Michael’s focus is more like another world in which he can lose himself. He has absolute control in that world. Although the narrator of the text can describe how Michael feels that control, Mr. Gibbs confirms that impression from the outside perspective.

“He still sounded like somebody else. And still didn’t care. He felt like he was in some silly schoolyard fight, just with words, and wanted to beat her to the punch.” 

Michael’s frustration with Ellie shows him, and readers, a new, nastier side of his personality. Uncharacteristically, Michael manages his stress by taking it out on Ellie, rather than letting himself be consumed with self-doubt. Even though he can see that the fight is “silly,” he puts himself at opposition with Ellie, knowing that the anger she inspires is something he can fight back against. When he returns to his usual character, he is disappointed in his behavior to this girl about whom he truly cares.

“It was the one where he would close his eyes and see the happy endings he wanted. Where everything in his world worked out the way he wanted it to. She would make him go through his wish list, one item at a time.”

Michael, in this quotation, describes the dream game that Mrs. Cora forces him to play when he grows too pessimistic. Wrapping him in what is, for Michael, a rare hug, Mrs. Cora provides Michael with an outlet to speak his dreams. She encourages him to verbalize the emotions and thoughts that, generally, he keeps inside. Importantly, she forces Michael to trust her process, understanding how unnatural this practice feels for a boy as guarded as he is.

“Michael was wondering if it was real as Uncle Timo walked toward him with his arms stretched wide the way Papi always did when he came through the door, hugged him close, kissed the side of his face, Michael feeling a familiar scratch of beard that actually made him shiver. I feel like I’m with a ghost, he thought.” 

Uncle Timo acts as a “ghost” of Papi when he performs for Mr. Gibbs. Although Michael accepts his father’s death, pretending as if his father is alive takes a new, more tangible form during this performance. As well as Uncle Timo seems to convince Mr. Gibbs of mistaken identity, he almost seems to convince Michael, too, reminding readers that Michael’s father is not long gone. 

“A few weeks ago, the only victory that would have mattered today would have been the Clippers over the Rosedale Park Robins at Macombs. Not anymore. The biggest win of the day was Uncle Timo. By a lot. Everything after this was going to be the cherry on top of the ice cream sundae that Manny was always talking about.”

Michael understands, after Uncle Timo’s success relieves him, that his and Carlos’ safety is more important than anything else in his life. Gaining access to small parts of his dream is more satisfying than he realized when the whole dream felt distant. As Michael gains small amounts of stability, he becomes increasingly bold in acting to make other parts of his dreams happen.

“‘See, that’s the thing, Michael. They’re all good moves in baseball when they work.’”

Mr. Minaya’s adage seems to be particularly relevant when, in Chapter 23, Michael sees the police apprehend Carlos. Both brothers take risky moves outside of the game, and only some of those gambles pay off in the end. Although Mr. Minaya discusses pitching changes with Michael, in this moment, his statement applies more broadly to Michael’s life. No matter how intentionally one acts, it seems, one always relies on a degree of luck to realize one’s aims.

“‘I know you don’t want to hear this,’ Mr. M said. ‘And I know it could never be enough for you, Michael. But you did as much as anybody to win this game.’”

Michael’s humility, and his frustration that he cannot play baseball, prevent him from noticing his helpful role on the Clippers when he’s unable to play. Mr. Minaya can recognize that Michael “[doesn’t] want to hear” about his talents outside of baseball, yet he points out Michael’s multiple strengths. This follows the pattern set by Manny and Mrs. Cora, who also work to help Michael see his strengths of character and personality, which continue even when he cannot make use of his baseball-playing skills.

“Carlos didn’t seem to be saying anything. Just kept his head down, with what Michael knew was his Washington Senators cap on his head. Carlos who had never done anything wrong in his life, who had never gotten a single detention in school. Carlos who worked practically all the time so he and Michael could stay together.”

Michael recognizes the injustice in his brother’s plight. As he remembers Carlos’ remarkable character, he realizes the extreme lengths to which he felt he needed to go to preserve their small family’s unity. This passage highlights the arbitrary nature of adolescent crime. In contrast to Lupica’s description of Ramon Crespo, who, in the first chapter, choses crime for entertainment, Michael’s characterization of Carlos shows that different people have different motivations for their illegal actions.

“He was about to explain who he was, why he was giving him the note, but now the words wouldn’t come. And then El Grande was turning away, walking back toward the players’ entrance as the people all around Michael were shouting again, El Grande not even looking at what Michael had handed him, just sticking the piece of paper in the pocket of his pants before he disappeared inside Yankee Stadium.”

Michael takes a big chance with El Grande to gain Ellie’s affection again. His chances feel extremely small, as small as the piece of paper that El Grande can put in his pocket after “not even looking at” it. In the face of such chances, it is difficult to find “words.”

“‘You really are due for a happy ending one of these days,’ Manny said.”

Manny’s extreme faith in Michael’s skills helps him to remain optimistic throughout the boys’ trials. The “happy ending” that Michael is “due for” shows the difference between how Michael and Manny think about their lives. For Michael, the “dream” is singular and baseball-focused: he has one dream with many elements. Manny, conversely, celebrates small victories. As Michael slowly finds his way out of despair, he begins to recognize these small successes and “happy endings” that come more naturally to Manny.

“They were going to the Stadium. But first here came Manny, running toward Michael, helmet gone, mask gone, as happy as Michael had ever seen him as he jumped into Michael’s arms, nearly knocking him over.” 

The first person to celebrate the Clippers’ victory with Michael is Manny, his constant companion. Importantly, the stadium is the central stand-in for “playoffs.” The location of the event is just as important as the event itself. As a symbol of the future and emblem of the neighborhood, the stadium is both close to and distant from Michael’s life. Winning the game means going to Yankee Stadium, a location that fulfills Michael’s personal dream more than actually winning the Little League World Series.