Jack Dalay
10 March 2012
What We Die For
Part 1: Baseball
Beep. Beep. Beep.
It was the sound of my alarm clock. It was again, like every other day, waking me up, keeping me from getting the extra sleep I, oh so, desire. It was a Saturday, and I could have maybe slept in a bit longer, but for some reason I thought there was something I had to do that day, so I got up anyway. I looked at the clock. Just one minute after eight. I got out of my bed, and went downstairs. I greeted my parents, ate breakfast, and then tried to figure out what I had to do today. There was something, I knew that, but I was not entirely sure what it was. My father walked by, looked at me, and said, "You should get ready for your baseball game. We have to leave in about an hour."
Baseball. Was that it? Somehow I wasn't sure, but I couldn't think of anything else. I went upstairs and changed into my baseball uniform. An hour later, just like my father had said, we left.
Upon arriving at the baseball field, I got warmed up. The other team looked much more skilled than ours, but that didn't had pulled through many seemingly impossible games before. Both of our teams were from the same town, but we were considered the home team nonetheless. So, we took the field. What followed was just a hazy, distant memory.
The game wasn't important, not in this story. What was important was the outcome, the only thing I truly do remember. It was the ninth inning. We were tied, and there was a go-ahead runner on 2nd, and I was up. We wouldn't lose if I struck out; in fact, there was only one out. But, that didn't make me any less nervous as I stepped up to the plate. I looked around me. Everyone seemed faceless, except my parents who were watching from the sidelines. I looked over at them, and they looked almost as nervous as I was. But, next to them was a girl. A girl I had never seen before, but it felt almost as if I had known her my entire life. She was extremely beautiful, and there was something about her that felt somewhat nostalgic. I turned toward the pitcher, and my "at bat" had begun.
I took the first pitch, and it was a ball. The pitcher was a bit wild, he walked a good amount of our team today. Another ball came, followed by a third one. The pitcher looked incredibly desperate. I looked at the coach, and he told me to take the pitch, ball or strike. That was what I originally planned to do, but...
The pitcher raised his foot and threw the ball. He was generally inaccurate, but fast. This ball was quite a bit slower, and seemed to be going right over the plate. I couldn't resist. I took a step forward, closed my eyes, and swung with everything I had.