Maicer Izturis' Bat

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On July 5,2008 in big “A” insight in Anaheim, California; home of the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim. The giant red baseball hats towering over the stadium, size 649 1/2” shading those that stand underneath it. Posters of Jared Weaver, Soshia, Torii Hunter, and Jeff Mathis bannered on the front pavilion wall to show the players with the highest ERA at the moment for the Angels. People selling tickets outside, souvenirs, and Angel magazines while people roamed into Angel Stadium to watch the Angels take on the Toronto Blue Jays.


When I first stepped through the gates, past the security guards, I saw the green field with the players warming up to bat and stretching their limbs. People crowding around the home team’s dugout hoping to get an autograph by a player that would take the time to do so. As we walked to our seats the aroma from the beef hotdogs and warm pretzels seared my nose. The three Ruby’s restraunts with their amazing garlic french fries served in a mini Angels helmet, the succulent essence drifted towards my nostrils. The colossal waterfall cascaded in the centerfield setting its top rocks in the shape of an “A”.


The seats where five rows behind the visitors dugout and three seats in. The lights beamed like a bug zapper over our heads. The game started to begin, the crowd becoming hushed with the first pitch about to be thrown. The pitch went out like lightning with the booming sound after hitting the catcher’s mitt. The batter’s whoosh from the missed swing sounding like a missed fly swatter without the smacking sound.


The top of the first inning went out in a 1...2...3...; into the bottom of the first, the taste of the lemon icee in my hand feeling refreshing with the warm summer breeze filling the stadium.Two outs, the venders going up and down the isles screaming, “Peanuts get chyur peanuts!... Ice cream! Get your ice cream!... Beer! Get chyur ice cold beer here!... Cotton Candy get chyur cotton candy!!” Maicer Izturis up to bat nobody on base, two ball and one strikes. People where talking and going along with the pounding of the music, some explaining the game to others.


Here comes the pitch, 91 mph pitch goes down the mound like a cannon ball that was just fired out. Batting left handed, Maicer swings and misses as his maple red bat flys out of his hands towards the jungle of fans. Dozens of people trying to grab the bat in front of me. As it comes toward us, helicopter style, I dropped my lemon icee as I was cowering to the right.


The bat comes down hard upon my leg and the knob hits me in the back. As it hits the ground with a piercing thud; the usher running down franticly to make sure that there wasn’t any fatal injuries. The man two seats down snatches the bat before I had a chance to grab it. All around the stadium everyone is screaming like banshees, “GIVE THE KID THE BAT SHE GOT HIT BY IT NOT YOU!!!!!!!” As everyone glares at us the usher throws a thumbs up meaning that no one was drastically injured. The whole stadium cheers!!! The guy that took the bat away from me gave the usher the bat and had me follow him.


Walking up the cold stone steps of cement towards the security booth; everyone stopping and staring at the girl who just got hit by the bat. When we got up there my leg felt numb and my back like as if something was mashing against it. The usher kept asking if I was okay and I kept saying I was fine because I didn’t want any more attention drawn onto me. We went back to our seats to finish watching the game and about the top of the third a different usher came down with a gargantuan bag of ice for my leg. For the rest of the game the smug man kept giving us crude looks, and said crude things towards us.


Once the game was over and everyone was walking up the steps people who sat near us came up to see if I was okay, and saying how amazing it was that it didn’t hit me int he head. When we finally got up to the top we grabbed the bat and went to the Angels Shop. While we walked towards there everyone eagle eyed us looking at the bat with astonishment. Up close the bat bad had an abundant amount of tar on it. Maicer’s name was engraved into it as well as the MLB logo, genuine number:, and Angels Baseball written in all caps. Also a six that was underlined on the bottom of the knob. When we got back to the car my dad blared the song, “Beat On the Brat” by the Ramones because aparently 'I'm a brat'.





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