The Baseball Doubleheader: A Short Story

Finally the time was here to play some Baseball. No one had seen how fast the pitcher pitched the ball because I was the only one at practice. Anyway I was the second one who was going up to bat but my team was in the field first so I kinda got some time to see how they play. But we had a really good pitcher so it was 1, 2, 3, strikes it was time for us to bat.

Nothing beat the overwhelming emotion of stepping up on the pitcher’s mound and hearing the chant of my name, my heart clawing its way out of my chest. Before throwing the first warmup pitch, my mind raced through the entire season. How, as a team, we have made history winning all three major tournaments in the high school level. We had beaten many top competitors and lost plenty crushing defeats as well. My mind pondered, which situation will I be in today, glorious victory or destructive loss. This is the feeling I lived for during high school, it was my sole purpose. However, this was merely one minute of that fateful day in which I played prodigiously trying to win a baseball game.

Lights blaring into my eyes, the crack of the bat, the shouting of the overly-devoted parents, the salty aroma arising off of the freshly roasted peanuts, all came together to create the overwhelming presence of a little league baseball game. This was a place where I spent most of my time on week day afternoons, in the spring, watching my brother succeed at America’s pastime. He was really quite good at this sport called baseball; he had just been granted the position of starting pitcher for the team. Sometimes things that have occurred in my life, and stuff I have received, that I may not have necessarily deserve, can be taken for granted. However, after what was about to take place my eyes are given a new perspective.

At the end of the eighth inning we pick up the game with Kansas City leading the Minnesota Twins one to zero. Steve, sitting on the bench in the corner with a towel over his head in the Kansas City Royals dugout as his team is batting in the eighth inning, has thoughts that go back to his Little League days when his father Joe Ballard would say. “Don’t worry about the batter, play pitch and catch with the catcher. That’s how to win a game from the pitcher’s mound.”

In the first inning we were on defense and we had our ideal positions out on the field. I was on first base and the coach's son William was the pitcher. All the other positions were filled with other athletes mostly dedicated to baseball or another sport. We had a great start to the game with an easy pop out. Although the next hit was wacked into left field getting him an easy double. We retired the last two batters with easy

“Next up the right fielder Auuuuusstin Meeeehhhhrrrr” belows out of the speakers at full blast as I approach the plate. Feeling loose I ease into the batter's box sinking my cleats deep into the soft dirt where I can get a solid stance. Stretching my bat across the plate showing the pitcher how much reach I have tempting him to throw one in the zone. Weight is on my back leg as I slowly bounce the bat in my hands anticipating the first pitch. The pitcher begins his windup and I stop moving the bat and focus on the ball.

The second championship game began much like the first. By the seventh inning the score was seven to one in favor of Waterloo Valley. Being the home team, we had one more chance for survival in the bottom of the inning. The inning started with one hit after another, raising the team’s spirits with each one. The hits just kept coming until we finally found ourselves only down by only one run. The excitement in the dugout was soaring, and so, with a runner on third base and two outs, Coach Sullivan put in Jakob Crampton for what could be the final at bat of the season. After strike one the anxiety became overwhelming. With the second pitch on its way, Crampton swang the bat, and the dugout exploded into cheering as the ball found its way between the third baseman

I could feel the pitcher’s stress from 200 feet away in the dugout. We were up five at the top of the eighth, but the win was not secure. I could tell the pitcher was struggling to keep his composure. Suddenly, the coach calls me to warm up in the bullpen. I was excited and nervous to enter the game; I knew my warming up would add pressure to the pitcher and this was the Legion Sub-State Semifinal game, which determined our chance to advance to state. By the time I got to the mound, the bases were loaded with two outs. I noticed the packed stadium, felt the sweltering 90 degrees, and sensed the crowd’s tension. I had never pitched against this team, so I relied on communicating with the catcher. I threw a knee high fastball--STRIKE ONE. Next, I threw low and away curveball--STRIKE TWO. The catcher signaled a high fastball, knowing the batter was expecting another curveball. The batter chased the ball--STRIKE THREE. We won the game and moved on to finals. Two hours in the dug out, five minutes in the bullpen, and thirty seconds on the mound--not to mention fifteen hours a week, ten months a year for fifteen years--all culminated in a few seconds to advance

The first pitch came in. ¨Ball outside,’’ the umpire said as I stepped out of the box to take a breather. The second pitch came in as a Strike as I tried to get a hack at it but it broke across the plate. I stepped out of the box to regain my composure. Bases loaded 1 out. The third pitch came in and was a fastball that was traveling across the plate at 72 miles per hour, but I got my bat on it at the right time and the ball was in the outfield in a matter of seconds. The ball rolled passed the outfielder as I ran the bases as fast as I could. The outfielder struggled to get the ball in and threw to the cutoff man. By the time he got it in I was already at third for a straight up triple to score three runs to tie it up . “ Timeout,” I called as I took off my helmet and got ready to pitch.Jose took my place to pinch run for me as I needed to start warming up to pitch.

My teammates and I were over-confident and had made some early mental errors. This allowed Cascade to earn three runs in the first inning, while we got none. In the huddle after inning one, our coach said, “Where’s the energy boys? You guys look flat out there!” In the next few innings, we found ways to pick up two runs, only while allowing Cascade another. It was a defensive battle, as neither team could get any runs. By the time we reached the sixth inning, the score was tied four to four. I started to get nervous, as I knew I would have a pivotal at-bat this inning. The first batter got on base with a walk. Our team, was very excited as he was the winning run. Our excitement instantly faded, as the next two batters struck out. This left me up with the last out. Our man on base had stolen to second, putting him in perfect scoring position. My teammates yelled from the dugout, “Let’s go Hinch! You got this big guy.” My coach said to me, “Alex, sit back and drive the ball. Make sure it’s a good pitch!” I could feel the pressure of the moment, but wanted to be the guy to get us the win. The at-bat started off slow as I got two strikes and two balls. On the fifth pitch, I got a ball right down the middle. I made a big swing at the ball and felt it come off my bat. Immediately, I started sprinting towards first and was signaled to go for second. The winning run had scored and our team went wild! We had won the game, and left Cascade with two victories. From this point on, I was much more confident. My teammates also felt a new sense of belief in me. The rest of the year was very enjoyable and left me with many new friendships! It was a summer I will always

It was tied three to three in the series. The Toronto Blue Jays vs. LA Dodgers. Star Jackson a center fielder, that is 6’2 and weighs 190 pounds, is the best player on the team. It was three days before game seven and Star is very nervous about the game. His mom and dad calm him down on the phone and say “It is just a game sweetie, whatever happens happens.”

The game started and our team was batting, and I was third on the batting order. I was nervous because it was only my second season and the other team’s pitcher was pitching fast. Isaiah batted and hit, Miles struck out, and I struck out and was disappointed.

I thought they thoroughly perceived me only in light of the fact that our bats were ablaze. We worked our way up to score three keeps running in that inning and we led the pack. Unfortunately, they got an opportunity to bat. I was still in the diversion and I had tossed around one hundred and thirty pitches which is a considerable measure for a pitcher. Traditionally mentors take out their pitchers when they hit the one hundred pitch stamp. I was now ready to ambulate out of the hole and onto the field when Coach halted me.

"When that guy found his groove he got pretty good, and we really didn't have an answer," WVU head coach Mazey said. "We had guys swinging over top of their fastballs all night. You can win anywhere with a really good fastball. One guy sunk it and one guy commanded it and that's a good lesson for our guys, who walked nine and hit two."

I was getting very nervous, because all three of us were hitless today. Okay, we need base runners, and we need them now. Don’t try to do too much, just get a hit. I thought. The first pitch was a fastball right down the middle of the plate, a perfect pitch to hit. My eyes got big, and my mind said swing, but before I could react, the ball was past me.