"Why are you late?" Jon was the first one to ask me once I got to the stadium.
"It's- not important right now." I quickly shot back, wanting to forget about it. But how can somebody do that? After all, it was my mother. The one who had been to all of my games when I was little- she helped me get there. "It's my mom; she's in the hospital," I finally said. I dug through my bag to get to my glove.
"Don't stress about it," he replied calmly. "You know I can replace you for today, right? You don't have to be here for every game. Where is she right now?"
"Down in Florida," I said. "Plus, we're facing my dad's team today. How would he feel if I left without him?" I shook my head, thinking of the consequences. "We are not playing at our best right now. Didn't you want me on this team to play?"
"That's not my point, James," he said, "Yes, you can play well, you have the potential, but again, you don't need to be with us all the time. You-"
I put my hand up. "Well, I'm already here- You may as well accept that." I did my best not to break down crying. I was really worried about my mother, but I knew the team couldn't play this game without me; I had a feeling that day would be the start of a good, long winning streak for our team- and I would be the leader of that.
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For my first at-bat, I was put into the leadoff spot (the 1st) in the lineup. I took 2 pitches inside. Inhale, exhale. It was time to do damage. I anticipated the pitcher would give me the pitch I liked the most- fastball at the knees. I cleared all the other thoughts out of my mind as I focused my attention on him and the baseball in his hands. I took another breath as he began his motion towards the plate. He threw me a high-arcing "eephus" instead that dropped right down the middle, and I stopped my swing. Strike one.
I stepped out and sighed. It was a good pitch, but there was no time to linger on it. I stepped back in, still anticipating that same pitch. He threw me that eephus again, but I was a little more ready for it. he threw it more inside, though, which jammed me up. I took a partial swing and fouled it off. Strike two. Now I was really in trouble.
I repeated the same routine, the same old movements and adjustments I had done between every pitch since Little League. The audience chanted "Let's go Challengers!" in unison as I stepped back into the box.
I watched the ball as it came towards the middle of the plate. I took the stride forward and brought the bat to the ball. Crack. It was the best contact I had heard off my bat that week. I let the bat slip out of my hand as I broke into a sprint, keeping my eye on the ball as it quickly left the playing field- an absolute shot.
I couldn't help but grin as I rounded first, knowing that something worked there. I most definitely could get on time and crush a baseball. It was all in my head. It didn't matter what everyone thought of me, or if I could deliver in every at-bat. None of that mattered. What mattered was that I flipped my mindset back to how it was early on in the season.
Now, the opposing side went off on us. I made an error catching a fly ball in the 2nd that otherwise would've been a sacrifice fly; I let it drop out of my glove, keeping the bases loaded and tying up the game.
The starting pitcher, Austin Brown, was struggling- to say the least. He had given up at least 5 runs in every start he had made so far, which contributed to the tough losses that brought us to 5-15 in the standings. This didn't matter much to the rest of us, however, as we didn't leave those runs unanswered. This was especially true later on in the game.
When all seemed hopeless in the bottom of the ninth, Jake Bradley delivered a 2-out double off the wall. I raised my head up in the on-deck circle and took the walk towards home plate as my name was announced. I was 1-3 on the day with a walk and a strikeout. Again, it was time to do damage. We were trailing by 3 runs, which for us usually resulted in a loss if we were down to the final out.
I didn't care.
I stepped in and choked up on my bat as I waited for the first pitch.
What I didn't expect, however, happened next.
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I opened up my eyes. I was in quite the daze.
I couldn't remember what had occurred at that moment, but I knew something horrible had happened.
I noticed I was down on the ground and was staring up into the faces of my coaches and the team's trainer. They were desperately trying to wake me up and were finally successful.
"W-what?" I sat up, and that is when my ears started ringing real bad. I winced at the pain in my head.
"You got hit in the head." I heard Jon say from behind me. "Do you not remember?"
"Uh, no..." I took a quick glance around, ears still ringing as if someone really wanted the homeowner to answer the door.
"You can't stay in the game, that's a fact." The trainer, George Smith, said nonchalantly.
I was still as confused and worried as hell, not exactly sure how bad I might be injured. I didn't remember the initial impact at that moment- the last thing I vividly remember was the pitcher releasing the ball, which I later learned was clocked in at 96 MPH. I was helped off the field and into the clubhouse under the familiar confines of the stadium, and I was quickly taken to the hospital to be treated for a skull fracture and possible concussion. The future really looks uncertain now, I thought.
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