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Strike Zone

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I breathed hard. My breath sucked in the dirt and rain from the previous day and I coughed. Sure, I was tired, but I was even more angry. How could she? She saw that I was clearly going to catch the ball and she puts her hand it front of my glove? I saw the ball move in slow motion as it bounced off. Turning around after the ball hits the ground,I scowl at her. Then, I see her face. Regret is taking it over and I begin to feel bad. But my anger is much stronger. Zero outs. Bases are loaded. Force out at any bag. I spread the dirt evenly in front of me. Silently, I set my foot down and aim at the catcher. As I pitch, I look closely at the glove and then I run to the home plate. The catcher, Finn, throws the ball at me. I grab it in the air and tag the runner. I have a quick moment of relief and then I here it. "SAFE!" It splits through my eardrum as quick as a wink. My mouth drops open and I look at the ump. Walking back to the base, my anger excelled. This pitch, I take my time, and hit it right in the strike zone. The ump makes a bad call. Zero outs. Bases loaded. Force out at any bag...





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