I step in. the weight lifts off me like a backpack falling off my shoulders and onto the ground. I hear nothing. As if the world has plugged my ears with cotton. The crackling shift of dirt under my cleats sends shivers through my body. I do not hear my teammates; I do not hear the fans. All I hear is the steady pounding of my heart and the breath that exits my mouth- Like God has muted my life and enhanced every movement so that even a whisper can be mistaken for a scream. I hear the squeak of the catcher’s shin guards as he gives the signal to the pitcher. As I set myself, I anticipate the ball. The missile comes near me. I hear the hiss of broken air behind the lacing of the leather sphere. My bat screams by, the ring of it cutting through the air is annoyingly beautiful. The bat meets the ball with such force, that a sonic boom is produced. I drop the still ringing bat. The tiny scream of metal meeting dirt enchants my body. The sound of my breath amplifies as if it was put against a microphone. My heart races. Adrenaline takes over my body. Everything goes in slow motion. Each stride becomes a struggle to advance to the bag. As my foot slams on the base, I hear only one thing. “SAFE!” Now the hearing returns