The Little Timmy that Could | Teen Ink

The Little Timmy that Could

January 19, 2012
By aleexolsonn BRONZE, La Quinta, California
aleexolsonn BRONZE, La Quinta, California
2 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
"You only get one shot."-Marshall Mathers


In the year 2055, there was a little boy named Timmy, he was thirteen years old. He was in the Louisville, Kentucky travel baseball team, the Crush. Timmy is the smallest teenager in town; he was only 4’8 and one hundred pounds. Timmy was the grandson of the best baseball player of the century his name was Tim Lincecum, and also the son of Alex Lincecum the current National League CY Young winner. This seems like he would be the perfect pitcher, but he isn’t. He can barely even throw a strike. Yet, Timmy can hit the ball amazing, with a .721 batting average, which is really good! But, Alex and Tim can’t hit the ball at all, like they were terrible. But, poor little Timmy wanted to be able to pitch well and be looked up to his grandfather and father.

At home he was on summer vacation, his father wasn’t playing baseball, and he was in the off season. His mother died of breast cancer, and Alex married another woman, an evil won to. She was so mean too little Timmy, always taking away his stuff, dressing him in rags, and just making him look bad, really bad. So he is basically living a Cinderella life.
“Timmy, go mow the lawn, or you are not going to your baseketball or what it’s called.” Ingrid roared.
“It’s baseball, baseball, not basketball, baseball. Can you remember that?” Timmy said.
“Go NOW!” Ingrid roared.
“It’s raining cats and dogs outside though!” Timmy shouted.
“Don’t argue, and just do it, bye.”

As Timmy was mowing the lawn his grandpa Tim came and talked to him.
"What's up Timmy Jim? His grandfather said.
"Mowing the lawn for the stupid witch, Ingrid"
"I'm sorry son. Hows baseball?"
"It's alright, I mean hitting I'm batting legit .721! But I can not pitch the ball at all, I sucked really bad, I can't even make it to the plate."
"Don't get down, I had the same problem, aha, just kidding, but your father did." His grandpa said. "That is the time i learned I have magic."
"Magic? Are you going crazy?"
"I have a magic glove for you,"
"What are you talking about?"
"Watch I'll show you."
"Alright."

So they went to the park, and his grandfather brought this sick baseball glove.
"Here it is." Grandpa Tim said as he handed Timmy the glove.
"Is this it?"
"Sure thing boss."
Alright, lets pitch."

So little Timmy went to the pitching mound while Grandpa Tim sat down as the catcher. Timmy pitched the best of his life, his fastball was electric, his curveball was outstanding, and his change-up was amazing!
"Woah, this glove must be magic."
"Haha, it is."
"Can i have it?"
"Why not?"
"Yes, thank you!"
"Lets get home."
"Alright."

So they got home, and he came inside the house dripping wet. “Thanks Ingrid.”
“No problem.” She replied.
The rain cleared up two hours before the game, and he was on his way. He saw his coach, and asked him “Coach i fell really good today can i pitch?"
"Sure why not? Were in first."
"Thanks coach, i'll promise i'll do good."
"Alright, I believe in you."

So the game started and the Crush were the home team and Timmy was starting pitcher. Timmy started the game with a walk, he was already looking nervous. The next batter was the same, on four balls. The same for the next batter, so bases loaded no outs. The next batter popped out to right side foul, the second baseman slid and caught the ball, and threw the ball hard to home plate so the runner couldn't score. The next two batters stuck out on amazing pitches. The second inning was ;first out ground ball to short, second out strike out, and third was deep fly ball to the center field. The Crush scored three runs that inning as well. The third inning for Timmy was; a walk, then first out was a pickoff to first. Second out was a strike out. Third out was another strike out. Fourth inning; first out diving catch by the right fielder, second out strike out, third out ground out to the pitcher. Fifth inning; struck out the side. Sixth inning; groundout to third base for first out, ground out to short, and third out was a fly ball to center field. Seventh inning; struck out the first two batters. The next hitter would be one hitter away from a no-hitter, which means the other team had no hits the whole game. So the first pitch was a curveball that was a strike, the next pitch was a ball in the dirt, the third pitch was a perfect fastball right down the middle. The count was one ball two strikes, the next pitch was a curveball, "Strikkkeee three, your out." Screamed the umpire.

Timmy threw a no-hitter. This is the most amazing thing that any pitcher to do, no hits through all of the game, AMAZING! "See i believed in you." Timmy's coach said.

Timmy went home and celebrated, he finally became a good pitcher by throwing a freaking no-hitter.
"Gramps, I threw a no-hitter." Timmy said.
"It's the magic, huh?"
"I guess haha."
"Remember, don't count your chickens before they hatch, the glove doesn't always work."
"Alright i'll remember." Timmy said.

So a couple days later he was scheduled to pitch again. As he was at home, Timmy and Ingrid got in an argument.
"Ingrid, I'm hungry, can you make me something to eat?"
"Shut up, brat"
"What did i do?"
"Your annoying, and i hate you."
"Okay witch."

"Um, what is your favorite thing you have?"
"My baseball glove, why?"

Ingrid left, but where? She came out with his baseball glove.
"What are you doing?"
"Throwing this into the trash."
"No, please no."
"Sorrrrrrrrry."

Five days later Timmy had to pitch, with no magic glove. He was going to pitch terrible. So it was gamete, and he was really nervous. The game started and Timmy got on the mound, and threw his warmup pitches, and they were terrible, like really terrible. The inning started, he threw the first pitch, it was a ball, so were the rest of the pitches of the at-bat. The next three batters got doubles, they scored three runs that inning. The rest of the game was really exactly like that. The final score of the game was 8-1, the Crush's run was a home run by Timmy.


He went home, with a very sad expression, and having to go home to the witch, Ingrid.
"I HATE YOU!"
"Shut up and go to your room."
"Can I have my glove back?"
"No."
"I'll just call my dad."
"NO, i'll give it it to you, don't call him."
"Alright, can I have it?"
"Sure, it's in the garage."

So Timmy got it, and he couldn't wait until Friday! So the days went on, Timmy doing nothing but waiting.

It was finally Friday, and Timmy felt good, even without the magic. So, he was on his way to the field.

The game started, and Timmy was on the mound first. The six five innings he threw no walks, and no hits, with the defense being precise making diving catches and no errors at all. The Crush also were all raking the ball in hitting by scoring eight runs.

The last inning started with Timmy throwing a perfect game, the best thing you can ever do. Timmy decided that he did not want the magic of the glove so he took it off and put his original glove on, and pitched the next inning. The first batter was up, the pitches, three strikes, one out. The next hitter was a diving catch from the center fielder, two outs. The next batter was three pitches, three strikes, three outs, game over, perfect game.

Timmy went on to be the best hitting-pitcher in the NL on the San Francisco Giants when he grew up, he also threw nine no-hitters, including one perfect game. He also had five Cy Young awards, and finally making his spot with his father and grandfather in the National Baseball Hall of Fame.

That's his cinderella story, what's yours?

The author's comments:
My favorite baseball pitcher.

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