Short story

It was the bottom of the ninth inning, and i needed to come up huge for my team. I was
up against one of the best pitchers in the league, and he had already set down the leadoff hitter
in the inning. I stepped into the box and looked at my coach for the signs. He made a number
of motions and finally gave me the sign for swing away. I looked down at the pitcher, trying to
read his mind, when he began his motion. before i knew it ZOOM. Strike one. The next pitch
was a slider that i foul tipped back off the catcher. After a few moments for the catcher to shake
off the blow. the pitcher looked down for his signs. He nodded his head, began his motion, and
crack. The ball had hit me in the hip bone. A radiating pain shot down my leg. I tried not to show
weakness and did my best limp down to first base where my coach checked to see if i was
alright.
After several moments, i finally could move without excruciating pain. So i looked down
for the sign , which was to steal a base. “Oh great” i murmured to myself. i took my lead, and
when the pitcher delivered to home i bolted for second base. I slid in ahead of the tag and was
safe. The crowd was going bananas. I was in scoring position with less than two outs, and our
best hitter was at the plate. We have a chance to win!
The pitcher looked ratteled, you could see it in his body language. The next pitch was a
fastball outside, and in the dirt which got by the catcher. so i bolted towards third and advanced
a base on the wild pitch. The stadium was electric, everyone was on their feet, screaming for us.
If the pitcher wasn’t rattled before, he definately was now. He was kicking dirt, and
screaming god knows what into his glove. The manager for the other team came out to calm
him down, and after about 30 seconds of talking he went back to the dugout. So the pitcher got
back on the mound to deal with the huge task at hand, winning the game for his team. The next
pitch he threw was a fastball, which found the strike zone for the first strike, and then a slider,
which was swung on and missed for strike two. The pitcher looked home, came to a set,
checked on me at third, and delivered home. The pitch was a fastball which was hit a mile up in
the air to the left fielder. I ran back to the base so i could tag up. This was it, this could be what
determines the game. The outfielder caught the ball, and i was off. i was running as fast as i
could. I saw the catcher blocking the plate, and he was waiting for the ball to come in. i was
close, and i could tell the ball was close too. The catcher caught the ball and i slid for home. the
cather slapped the tag on me as i touched home. I looked at the umpire, awaiting his call, and
he screamed “out!”, and just like that. The game was over, and we lost.