The instant high from a line drive
Feeling the ball vibrate against the bat
Erupting from the perfect spot
The crowd roars
The bench rises
No time to think, just run
The dirt flies up under my cleats with every sporadic step
Grazing first base with a tight turn
Finding the ball, shot out to left center
Heading for second, I look to the coach
I meet with eager eyes and rapid hand gestures
As I continue my journey to third base 
From the corner of my eye I see the ball coming
To my distaste the coach signals a slide
Bracing myself I dive into the thick dirt
Closing my eyes I feel for the touch of the base
Ultimate relief when the ump yells safe