most of his life has been spent
Inside the Diamond
Barry watched the ball in the pitcher’s hand. Every single one of the small red seams was clear and crisp in his vision, and he could see the small logo of the maker on it.
Two strikes. Two outs. 10-10 in the bottom of the eleventh, and a person on third base.
The pitcher twisted the ball in his hand, then lifted his left leg to throw the ball. It was almost as if it was slow motion- he could see the seams rolling over and over the ball again. It was a good pitch, but not good enough for Barry, who had a .380 average and was one of the best hitters in the league.
Knob towards the ball!
Swing through!
Breathe in. Breathe out. Relax, and hit the ball.
Barry turned his hands- knob of the bat towards the ball. He felt it connect, and swung through.
As soon as he had swung the bat, he dropped it and ran.
Barry saw the ball arcing through the sky while he was running towards first... no. It was too high, towards center. They would catch it.
But as if Barry’s wishes had been answered, the sun came out from behind the clouds, and shone towards the ball- directly in the center fielder’s face.
He cringed and turned away, and the ball dropped harmlessly behind him.
Barry had just won the playoffs. His teammate, Jose, had come home.
He saw Jose slide on home, each individual particle of dirt gleaming in the sun that had just helped them win.
He had done it.
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