The seams on the ball rip the skin off my fingers,
Digging my cleats into the dirt,
Shaking my wrist trying to get the sweat off.
Looking at the runners trying to forget that they were there.
I look at the scoreboard,
3-2,
One more strike till it’s over.
I look at the over sized batter
toppling over me.
The sign comes in,
Two down
The white tape on his hands revealing his question.
I answer with a nod.
I get set,
Leg goes up, ball goes out.
It starts off fast but then drops.
Starts spinning the opposite way,
Calling the floor telling it I’m coming.
His bat comes out of his shoulder and his big swing comes out.
The cleats stay in the box,
The box that I’m enemy’s with.
On his knees he lays
He doesn’t seem to want to get back up.
My hands drop, pain soaring through my arm,
But it all paid off.