I looked up at the green scoreboard. The numbers seemed to be haunting down on me. The glowing red numbers read Home: 1 Away:4 Inning: Bottom 9. I stepped up to the plate. I dug my right foot into the tan dirt. My bat was gleaming in the sun on the beautiful summer day. I pointed the bat up, then right to the pitcher. The pitcher was staring so hard at me, he could have shot a dagger from his eyes. I tugged at my red jersey that read “Arlington” in cursive across my chest. I touched the top of the white plate, then the middle, and I was ready. The crowd’s chants started to fade out. It was just me and the pitcher. The pitcher gave a slight nod to his catcher. He stepped to the side, had a leg kick so high that it seemed like he was trying to touch the sky, then came firing. His arm cocked back and a tiny white blur came whizzing at me. In my head I recognized the red seams spinning backward almost like it was trying to go back to the pitcher. Curveball. I saw it come in high, and I knew it was gonna dip down just like a sinker. I swung as hard as I could. My hips turned a full 360 and I could hear the umpire yell, “Strikeeeee one!”
I whiffed. I thought to myself, “That was the one pitch I was gonna be able to hit.” I looked back at my coach and he just gave me the slightest nod. I dug in again.
I went through my detailed routine yet again. I looked up at the pitcher. This time, he didn’t look as intimidating. He stepped to the left again, came up with his leg kick, and yet again, fired it home. He threw it so hard I couldn’t even see the little red seams. It went outside. 1-1 was the count. I looked at Justin who was at first. He was clapping and yelling,
“Here we go kiddddd you got thisssss!”
I looked towards the crowd. I saw my dad. He was wearing a Cubbie blue Cubs jersey with a black and red Arlington Cardinals hat. Everyone was on their feet. The cheers could be heard from miles away. They were pounding and ringing in my ear drums. I stepped back up to the plate. Everything seemed to slow down. I took a quick peek out of the corner of my eye to my coach at third. Again, he gave me a slight nod. I looked at the pitcher yet again. He kept shaking his head.
“This could be an offspeed pitch”,
I thought to myself. He stepped off the mound. The crowd groaned. I took my left foot and put it right in between the white lines meeting with the dirt. I leaned back, then got back in the box. The pitcher was staring at me this time instead of the catcher. It was turning into a cat and mouse game. I thought to myself “Alright I see how it is”. He now looked down to his catcher. He nodded and right before he moved his leg, I put my right hand towards the umpire and I heard the ump yell,
“TIMEEEEE”.
I took a few steps to the left. I looked down and grinned. I stepped back up to the plate. I could see the perfect white ball poking through the pitcher's glove. He gave me a death stare after that trick I pulled. I messed up his rhythm which is exactly what I wanted to do. He went into his windup. As the ball came flying in, I could see it slowing down. Changeup… and I recognized it, coming right down the middle. I lifted my leg up extra high. So high, I could have leaned over and touched it with my face. I reared my bat back and then let my body explode. My wrists drove right through the ball. The sound was the most recognizable sound ever. DING. I watched the ball soar through the sky. I dropped to a knee and just watched it. That thing was loooooong gone. It dropped almost 30 feet past the fence. My heart skipped a few beats. I could hear the crowd cheering but my brain couldn’t even process it. I started jogging towards first. I stopped and did the best bat flip you’ve ever seen. I looked up and knew this was the best moment ever. As I rounded second I looked at the scoreboard again. This time it read Home: 5 Away: 4 Inning: Bottom 9. I took a quick peek to the crowd. They loved the bat flip. I looked at my dad. He was on his feet, his face beaming with pride. My mom was clapping, going crazy. My dad gave me a little wink. My mind went crazy, I still couldn’t process what was happening. I rounded third and went for a low five with my coach. I ripped off my helmet and threw it to the side. My hair was a big moppy mess but I didn’t care. I ran into the herd of my teammates. Everyone was jumping up and down screaming. It felt like I was in the middle of a tornado. One person pulls you this way, then that way. I didn’t care. We won, and I hit a Walk-off. Grand. Slam.
I whiffed. I thought to myself, “That was the one pitch I was gonna be able to hit.” I looked back at my coach and he just gave me the slightest nod. I dug in again.
I went through my detailed routine yet again. I looked up at the pitcher. This time, he didn’t look as intimidating. He stepped to the left again, came up with his leg kick, and yet again, fired it home. He threw it so hard I couldn’t even see the little red seams. It went outside. 1-1 was the count. I looked at Justin who was at first. He was clapping and yelling,
“Here we go kiddddd you got thisssss!”
I looked towards the crowd. I saw my dad. He was wearing a Cubbie blue Cubs jersey with a black and red Arlington Cardinals hat. Everyone was on their feet. The cheers could be heard from miles away. They were pounding and ringing in my ear drums. I stepped back up to the plate. Everything seemed to slow down. I took a quick peek out of the corner of my eye to my coach at third. Again, he gave me a slight nod. I looked at the pitcher yet again. He kept shaking his head.
“This could be an offspeed pitch”,
I thought to myself. He stepped off the mound. The crowd groaned. I took my left foot and put it right in between the white lines meeting with the dirt. I leaned back, then got back in the box. The pitcher was staring at me this time instead of the catcher. It was turning into a cat and mouse game. I thought to myself “Alright I see how it is”. He now looked down to his catcher. He nodded and right before he moved his leg, I put my right hand towards the umpire and I heard the ump yell,
“TIMEEEEE”.
I took a few steps to the left. I looked down and grinned. I stepped back up to the plate. I could see the perfect white ball poking through the pitcher's glove. He gave me a death stare after that trick I pulled. I messed up his rhythm which is exactly what I wanted to do. He went into his windup. As the ball came flying in, I could see it slowing down. Changeup… and I recognized it, coming right down the middle. I lifted my leg up extra high. So high, I could have leaned over and touched it with my face. I reared my bat back and then let my body explode. My wrists drove right through the ball. The sound was the most recognizable sound ever. DING. I watched the ball soar through the sky. I dropped to a knee and just watched it. That thing was loooooong gone. It dropped almost 30 feet past the fence. My heart skipped a few beats. I could hear the crowd cheering but my brain couldn’t even process it. I started jogging towards first. I stopped and did the best bat flip you’ve ever seen. I looked up and knew this was the best moment ever. As I rounded second I looked at the scoreboard again. This time it read Home: 5 Away: 4 Inning: Bottom 9. I took a quick peek to the crowd. They loved the bat flip. I looked at my dad. He was on his feet, his face beaming with pride. My mom was clapping, going crazy. My dad gave me a little wink. My mind went crazy, I still couldn’t process what was happening. I rounded third and went for a low five with my coach. I ripped off my helmet and threw it to the side. My hair was a big moppy mess but I didn’t care. I ran into the herd of my teammates. Everyone was jumping up and down screaming. It felt like I was in the middle of a tornado. One person pulls you this way, then that way. I didn’t care. We won, and I hit a Walk-off. Grand. Slam.