Giving Baseball the Whack

He held his head up with his hand, and feigned interest when a player
got a home run. He never liked games. It felt like there was a
magnifying glass between him and the sun frying him as sweat poured down
his head and left a wetness on the armpits of his shirt, which made the
shirt stick to him.

Through his high school years, his parents prodded him to sign up for
sports. “You know everyone else in the family has had a lot success in
athletics. I’m just saying you could give it a try.” His father said.

“It would probably be good for your self esteem to be involved in
something.” His mother said.

“I know, it’s just not for me.” His head faced the ground.

“You think someone like him would get in? They would take one look at
him..” His brother Jared jeered.

“Shut up.”

Their mother frowned, “That’s enough Jared. You still need to clean your
room.” Jared stared at her wide eyed. “Now.” His shoulders dropped and
his face had why me written on it. He turned and walked away, snickering
till he turned into his room.

In the morning Joe would dress. The clothes he had were lacking. But
that was because when you have to wear larger than average clothes the
selection available to you is limited. They don’t make cool clothes in
size fat. In fact he couldn’t even shop at most shops, while everyone
else was getting their clothes from Macy’s or The Buckle, he was always
stuck in the two racks assigned to people of his size at JCPennys.

But it turned out he did try for baseball. If nothing else at least his
parents would leave him alone finally. Everyone stared at him as he
walked on the field. His baseball outfit looked two sizes small as it
snuggled his stomach, squeezing it and revealing its roundness. He just
looked ahead and pretended they weren’t there.

It was his turn to bat. The ball was pitched and he swung his bat fast
and he spun around. The air moved by his head as the ball whizzed by him
into the catchers mit. The pitcher threw another one. This time his bat
slapped the ball and skipped along the ground out past the bases.

He took off, and his large legs pounded the ground, he pumped his arms.
As he reached first base his arms reached the sky in triumph. The people
in the box stared at him.

The coach pointed to the next person in line and belted, “Your up,”
thumbing towards the field.

A scrawny guy comes up, 6 inches short of looking like he belonged in
the same age group. His face full of orange freckles. He scowls and
takes the bat and then gets into position. His eyes are focused ahead
and the ball sails and whack he hits the ball. And he takes off. His
little legs zoom with efficiency as he tags Joe.

As Joe runs he slips and catches himself. Three guys are coming in
three directions. He sees the base is just a few steps away and he
pushes himself to get there. But the catcher runs into him and he falls
on the dirt.

As he walks back to the end of the line someone calls out, “How could you
miss that one?”

He spent his single baseball season watching everyone from the bleachers.


I welcome you to write a few paragraphs in the comments about sports and what sports meant to you or how a character you make up reacts to sports in their life.


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