The night air refreshed my senses as I sat on the bench. Tall lights illuminated the baseball field that sprawled out before me. It was the last out of the game, and my team still had a chance. Red jerseys stood on each base, and down by 3 runs we just needed a double to tie the game. A home run would have been nice, because then we would win the game, but I didn’t think about that. I saw that the wind was blowing out to the leftfield wall as Jeremy, my power hitter, was up to bat. The crowd chanted his name as he walked to the batter’s box, but I could see that he was nervous. He stepped into the box and I caught his legs shaking a bit. The first pitch sailed high and I heard the nauseating crack of the ball hitting Jeremy’s helmet. He laid in a heap at the plate as I ran out to see if he was alright. He was seeing stars, but he was able to get to first base. Only 2 more runs to tie the game, but I didn’t know who to send to the plate?
I ran over to my assistant coach and we discussed our options. There was Joey, who couldn’t make it to first base if he tried, so he wasn’t an option. Then there was Nate, but he hadn’t gotten a hit all season. We scanned the bench and found George. George was a 5’2” sophomore who worked harder than anyone else on the team, but for some reason nothing ever clicked for him. He could throw hard, but never accurately. He could swing really well, but he never made contact. He was my best option though, so I decided to put him in. I called George’s name, and he waddled up to my side. All of the parents gave me funny looks, but they didn’t understand our situation. I told him he was in, and his eyes lit up. He grabbed his stuff and walked onto the field.
I watched him as he stuffed his helmet onto his thick head. It wasn’t on right, but I didn’t say anything. He needed to focus on his at bat. He stepped into the batter’s box and swung his bat around in preparation. The pitcher took his sign, and began his windup. Before he had even let go of the pitch, I watched George take his stride and swing with all his might. By the time the pitch was released, George was already done with his swing, his eyes tightly clamped shut. “Open your eyes,” I yelled to him. I couldn’t even watch. Just let him put it into the outfield, I thought.
The pitcher took his sign again, and this time George was right on time. I saw his body flex as he whipped the bat through the strike zone, but again I heard the dead ‘thunk’ of the ball hitting the catcher’s mitt. I called for time out, and beckoned George over to me. “All you have to do is make contact with the ball. I want you to think in your head ‘see the ball, hit the ball’.” George repeated the chant to me and scuffed his way back to the batter’s box. There were two strikes and I knew that George was done for. The pitcher was going to throw a curve ball and the game would be over. I felt the weight of the sorrow on my shoulders
George kicked some dirt out of the batter’s box before taking his stance. I could see his lips muttering the chant. See the ball, hit the ball. See the ball, hit the ball. The pitcher entered his windup and threw a curve ball. I could see the ball spinning through the air as if it were a hatchet spinning into the heart of my team. My muscles tensed as I saw that George was going to swing. Again he swung with everything he had, but this time I heard the ping of a metallic bat. I watched as the ball sailed deep into the outfield. I raced from the dugout screaming “GO! GO! GO!”, ushering the ball deeper and deeper into the outfield. It flew deep into the dark April sky. The crowd erupted in cheers as the ball cleared the left field fence. I ran to meet George as he ran around the bases. I picked him up and placed his squat body on my shoulders. “I’m sorry for doubting you,” I said. He winked at me and continued his revelry. We had won the game, and I still can hardly believe it.
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4 comments:
I know that they will say sports stories are cliché, that they are over done, and always come down to that one last play by that underdog player or team, and come out victorious. But there is a reason these stories are told again and again. We love them, I love them. It is not really about the story, but how they are told. Sometimes they are victorious, sometimes not. It’s about the fight. And your characters kept on fighting. That’s what makes these, and yours so good.
This is a good idea for a story. I like the narrator, the head coach of the team, who is retelling an unexpected victory in all of its minute panic ridden moments. You did a good job at setting up the problem as your designated hitter got it and you had no one else to put in, and I think that you explained you choice of and the character of George very well. I really liked the way that you barely ever used the word walking to describe the way he moved, either he waddled or he scuffs his way places. I would suggest that to make this even stronger that you change the one time you did say he walked to something more like he shuffled. Also, the end of the story was a good strong idea, but the wording was a bit choppy. If I were to change that I would vary the sentence length in your last six sentences, they are all about the same length. The tension in your story builds through your three action points and reverses nicely when George actually hits the ball.
A few technical details, after yelling “GO! GO! GO!” you don’t need a comma, and if you did it would have to be inside the quotation marks. Also, you need to spell out three, as in when you mentioned that your team was 3 runs down. Also, the wording was a little awkward when you were describing Jeremy lying next the plate. Instead of say he was laid out, maybe say he was sprawling at the catcher’s feet or something. Other than that good work!
Ethan,
Wow, I really liked this piece. The way you used the 3 pitches to build tension was very clever and it works very well. You used great adjectives and details – I could really picture everything that happened in your story - and the first person language that you used was very believable. Great job!
It’s difficult coming up with some critiques for this story. I guess there are a couple of awkward places I could be nitpicky about. For example, the end of your first paragraph reads: “Only 2 more runs to tie the game, but I didn’t know who to send to the plate?” I think you could get away with using a period instead of a question mark.
Why am I not suprised? lol. Its always baseball. I love that you are the couch. Someday I will be sitting in the stands watching you couch instead of play. I kinda have to admit that I am excited to see you play again. Shhh.... dont tell anyone I said that. haha
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