Me on the Home Plate

 

I watched The Braves and The Dodgers Duke it out last night.  I watched it pretty intently with be Braves leading, until they were tide and then I got sleepy and bored, like I knew what was coming.  I went to bed.

Watching closeups up the batters and their facial expressions took me back to old time.  Yes, me.  At the Little League play-offs at The Crackers’ Ponce de Leon Ball Park in Atlanta.  Our team, Southern Discount was in the playoffs. 

I didn’t keep up with our game much, I knew we were losing, that was about all I knew or cared.  I and another benchwarmer were playing some kind of game or something when our coach, Romeo Hudgins, hollered for me. 

I ran up to him.

Romeo told me to go bat.  Me bat?  It was my first time.  I got a bat and ran up to the home plater ready to knock the ball out of the park.

The catcher said something challenging or smart allecksy to me and started loudly chanting.

I thought “How rude!  he doesn’t even know me.”

The pitcher threw three perfect singing striking balls right passed me, without me even blinking.

The game was over. 

We lost.

My Little League career was ove, just when I was on a roll.