Baseball Practice

Baseball Made in "Paint"





     As a child, everyone decides what their sport will be. For me, it was baseball. It had nothing to do with any actual interest in the sport, just that my dad and little brother were into it. As a family, we would go to the elementary school's field and play mini games. This meant attempting to hit the ball with a bat and running to a sweater we used to represent first base. We never really got a home run since there was only two of us, but it just gave us something to do. The "three strikes, you're out" rule didn't exist, since neither my brother nor I were very good at hitting. We just kept swinging until the bat touched the baseball. That was enough to send us in to an excited sprint.

     One day, my friend Anna came over to my house for a play date. My brother had just gotten a new metal baseball bat, and I wanted to try it out. She and I decided we would take turns hitting the ball as my mom pitched it to us. When it was my turn, I lost focus of everything that was around me. The baseball was the only thing I was going to concentrate on. When I went to swing, I realized that Anna was right behind me. This wouldn't be a bad thing, except that I discovered this after moving my bat back and hitting her on the forehead.

     Although I wasn't the strongest kid in the world, the bat was metal. Regardless of how hard it hit, that was going to do some damage. On her forehead was a forming lump which swelled to about the size of a large grape. It was bruising around the sides, but was also a very distinct red.

     My mom rushed over, worried that I had given her a concussion. Anna assured her she was fine, but my mom still insisted on an ice back. I apologized to her, but she still gave me a load-full of words. I felt immensely guilty, especially when her mother came to pick her up and saw the giant lump on her forehead.

     To this day, she still likes to remind me of this, though it is more of a joke now.