Published: Baseball Almanac (11-29-2000)

The fans in the stands cheered
Sun illuminated the field of play
And the green grass swayed in the wind.
The brown dust settled on my white pants
As the fielders took their stance
The pitcher glared at me, grinding her teeth.
I tapped the aluminum bat against my spikes
And I took my stance.
I shut my mind down and
Concentrated only on the white
Sphere hurtling toward me
I swung my bat in
A perfect arch
There was a reassuring
THUNK
As bat mated with ball.
A jolt ran up my shoulders
And I stood transfixed
As the ball flew over
The heads of the
Infielders
Outfielders
The crowd roared as
That perfect ball
Sailed over
The white, picket fence.

Going Home Author: Kristin M. Betzler ©