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September 06th, 2012
Instead of teasing myself by rounding first and only going
half way to the island that’s nestled between first and third on my baseball
diamond, today’s my day I get to second base.
I don’t want to return to the safety of first base. I’ve been there done that. I need to have a
stand up double. The crack of the bat drowns out the crowd as the ball launches
out to center field. I run up the first baseline watching the ball disappear in
the lights of the stadium. The white ball becoming engulfed in the white lights
of the burning clandestine heat, emanating from the candlepower of the large
steal structures that house the bulbs.
The crowd roars with excitement. The sound from the bat
gives them the false hope that I may have hit it out of the ballpark. The fans
behind home plate rise to their feet creating a domino effect the spreads down
the first and third baselines as each fan gets on their feet to cheer the ball
on its quest to find the outer limits of the outfield.
I drive me feet into the dirt. The right sides of my leather
cleats straddle the white line that is lying on top of the baseball dirt
forming the infield. I drive my arms forward and backwards as I exert all my
power in my sprint as I continue to eye the run away ball that is somewhere out
there as it drifts to never, never land. So I focus on the center fielder that
seems to have beat on the ball.
He moves his body backwards, his steal cleats digging into
the neatly manicured grass in center field. As he attempts to move with the
ball, trying to out run its velocity. The ball is ever sailing as it descends
from the white lights and stands out in the blackness of night like a star
falling from the sky. He is moving as fluently as the ball is in motion. I can
only hope the wind gives it that extra push it needs to sail the ball over his
head.
I’m not hoping to see it fall into the out reached arms of
some overzealous fan. I just want to get to second base. I hope, with the
hormones of a pubescent boy, to get my chance to round first base after months
and months of trying to move from right to left.I want to stand on my island with a smile as I survey the
field and the people in the stands.
The music travels from the stands where my fans are seated.
The music notes reaching my ears as they flow past me and echoe throughout
the ballpark. I’m standing with one foot on the second base bag and the right
foot on the orange clay. My weight applying pressure to the dirt as it
surrounds my foot drowning out any color on the bottom of my cleat.
From my second base position I can still feel the energy of
the crowd who are still buzzing about my near home run. Their anxiety is high
after I scored an RBI. The smells of the food get caught up in the breeze as
the aroma finds its way to me among the music notes and chatter from the first
few rows of the stadiums seating platform.
The combination of it all intertwines with one another
overloading my senses as it stimulates my mind causing the nerves in my spine
to transmit a smile to my face while I stand back and contemplate if I will
make it home from here.
“Cotton candy, here, Cracker Jacks,” is the words I hear.
Drowning out the PA announcer who is starting to divulge the next batter who
walks on the field.
I watch the pitcher with a keen eye as dig into the infield,
taking a few steps from the safety of my second base. I rest my forearms on my
legs as I widen my stance and lower my hips to get a good starting base, so
I’ll be ready to launch when I see the baseball fly of the tip of the bat.
My goal was to hit a stand up double. Life is a game and
it’s all in how you play it. I may strike out or ride the pine but I knew
eventually I’d find my place. I’m standing here perched on second base looking
to find home plate. It’s better then packing it in and giving up on a season
before I had a chance to even try.
The way I see it, a double was fair enough for now. I just
needed to believe that I could at the very least, round first base and make it
half way home. Because home is where the heart is and I have a pretty good view
from second base.
https://twitter.com/FusaCmee
Christopher Fusaro. The author of Captain Imperfecto.
© copyright 2012. All rights reserved.
Also see us at www.captainimperfecto.com
I like the fact you relate life to sports. Kind of makes it easier to understand and "get". Getting to second base is scary but also it's a time to celebrate. It's scary because it's uncharted territory and one doesn't know What's going to happen. On the other hand, it's a time to celebrate because you made progress and you put one foot in front of the other and made it. You set a goal for yourself and accomplished it!! That itself deserves what I call "a Happy dance!!!!! " So go take a few moments and do a Happy Dance!!!
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