The Pitch

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I feel the heat radiating off my body
and sweat slowly slides down my skin.
The bat sways back and forth,
keeping time with my deep, controlled breathing.
The pitcher starts his windup,
and time seems to slow down.
I shift my weight back.
The ball slides effortlessly out of the pitchers hand.
In the blink of an eye I read the rotation of the ball
and determine its movement.
It’s speed and location are determined,
so precise that a mathematician would be impressed.
At that moment I realize where the ball is headed:
my face.
I tried to quickly duck out of the way,
but I was not fast enough
I feel a searing pain down the side of my face.
My nerves are screaming as I drop to the ground,
and for a moment everything goes black
As my eyes flutter open I start to hear voices asking if I am ok.
I nod my head.
I start to stand and hear clapping as I trot down to first base.





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