Writing Resources from Fifteen Minutes of Fiction

At least it's over.

Steve picked up the bag and dusted his hand once more before slowly walking back up to the rubber. He's made this trip at least a thousand times maybe more. He sets and looks around the bases at his new team mates. The strain of the moment he loves and fears at the same time. Everyone, everyone is watching.

Johnny digs in. He's ready. Steve tries to out think him again. What pitch will he be looking for? He knows Johnny's good but he can beat him, he has before.

Steve has never seen the stands full before, not even playing college ball but tonight, his first road game, he is not in college, and the stands are full. His parents are even here for this game. There really is a crowd. Don't think about it right now. Just look at the catcher Steve, look at the catcher.

Steve was drafted to play minor league ball a year after John. John came up out of high school and Steve played a couple of years for the local community college and decided at least to start a college degree program. Baseball called. Hard. Steve settled for the time being with an Associates Degree. Johnny has bigger things in mind. For now they are both minor league players.

The catcher signals first pitch fastball low outside. Steve thinks it better be way outside because that's his little brother's favorite pitch, but Steve, a rookie, knows better than to shake off the catcher.

He throws fast.

Low.

Outside.

Way outside, ball one.

Steve hopes the catcher is a quick study because he knows that there is nothing Johnny wants more than to tee one off of Steve and go yard in front of their parents and Johnny's home crowd.

Breaking ball called, breaking ball delivered. John watched it go by. Strike one. Good call blue. He's not gonna like that Steve thinks. Focus. Focus.

Really? Low and outside again. OK. Ball two and the catcher doesn't like being behind in the count. Well neither do I, Steve practically yells out loud, but I'm not letting him hit a homer. Rather walk him.

After a time out and a quick discussion the catcher is on the same page. Thank god.

Fast ball.

High.

Inside.

Strike two.

The count is 2 balls, 2 strikes and what is Johnny looking for now? Steve knows what he's looking for and there is nobody in this packed ballpark that can make him give it to him even if his own mother came down to the mound and begged him.

Another breaking ball. Hangs on the corner and Johnny takes it. Hard, far. Very far.

Foul ball!!

Steve nearly passed out. Time to walk around the mound again. Whew.

Change up? Why not.

Ball three. That's why not. Crap.

Full count and it looks like everybody is on their feet. One pitch. One pitch. Next season Johnny will probably be in the majors. This next pitch will be discussed at the family holiday table for generations.

Fast ball. Low. Inside.

Steve delivers not inside enough but catches a break. Another foul ball.
He knows Johnny will never miss that again.

Fast ball. Of course. High, well it's better than low. Middle? I don't think so. We are going inside catcher.

The wind up.

The pitch. Boy that's blazing.

Crack!

Johnny gets every bit of it! He knew. Of course he knew. He's good. Nobody can hit like Johnny. Is that ball still flying? Steve knows he's going to hear how Johnny knocked the cover off of Steve's pitch the very first time the met on the field against each other.

And an RBI? It's over. Better to just leave town and baseball. Perhaps the Army could use him. That stings. Steve drops his head and sighs deeply. At least it's over he thinks.

The right fielder runs back and back to the warning track and keeps going to the fence. He jumps as high as he can not even really aware of what he's doing and comes down.

With the ball.

Well, at least that's over the right fielder thinks.

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