Little League Drama by J.R. Sweeney

J.R. Sweeney writes to have fun and researches his Irish and French genealogy back to early AD. He lives in New England with his Father and Brother but the true"apple of his eye" are his terrific Daughter and Grandson

I cringed at the sight of Noah in the on deck circle. There were whispers and sighs as Noah walked to the plate. The crowd was had my same thoughts, it is over. Noah’s team was down two runs with two outs in the bottom of the last inning. His under nine year old team’s chance is all but finished.

My grandson Noah hasn’t had a hit all season. I can almost swear he thinks the object is to strike out. My other grandson, Nathan “The Natural” has walked ahead of Noah, he stole second and third, but rests at third with a forlorn look of hopelessness as Noah takes two strikes.

Wow! Noah takes the next two pitches both out of the strike zone. The anxiety builds, and I can’t bear to watch. The next pitch sails up and out of the strike zone for ball three. Wtf! I mutter to myself, can’t his mom and dad throw him a few pitches to work on his swing? I’m disgusted, they are so close, but it will end with another strike out.

In my moment of despair, I hear the distinct sound of the ping of a baseball striking an aluminum bat. What is going on? Do my eyes deceive me? The ball has dropped into rightfield, and Noah is strolling into second base with RBI double. He had struck out over 30 consecutive teams that season, and has never made contact.

What magic is this? Now, our clutch hitter Matao steps up to the plate, and rips the ball deep into the gap. Noah races home with the run that tied the game, and Matao scores behind him with an inside-the-park home run. Certain defeat has turned into victory!

The game is over! Noah’s parents are hugging him, and their faces beam with pride. The kid that never had a hit all season was the hero. He had saved the best for last

 I feel foolish that I gave up on him, that eight-year old showed me can do anything he damn well wants.