His Moment

It was the bottom of the sixth inning on Meadowbrook’s best field. All we had to do was hang on for three more outs and we would win in front of all the people in the bleachers at the older kids field on opening day. Before the game, I felt weird about playing in “c” league when all my friends were in “a” league but that was in the first inning before I hit safely three times including an inside the park home run.

I love playing shortstop because I receive the most hits and I made a bunch of good one’s already this game. The best was the hot grounder I scooped up after passing the third baseman and threw it just in time to get the hitter out at first base.

Joey, the teams pitcher was starting to get tired. He had pitched a great first game. He walked their first batter and the second one hit a double to center field making it second and third with no outs. He walked the third batter in four pitches- bases loaded and no outs and only a 4-1 lead. Coach Eddie called time and walked out to the pitcher’s mound to talk with Joey. A minute later he signaled me to come to the mound to join them, since I was the team captain.

“Michael, I need you to get me three outs.” And he handed me the ball and walked away with Joey trotting over to play shortstop.

I froze. I had never pitched before in a real game at any level. Here we were with the bleachers full at the good field, bases loaded, no outs, bottom of the sixth and the ball was in my hands now.

I took a deep breath and my seven warm-up pitches, only two were over the plate and would have been strikes. A big red-headed boy with freckles stepped up to the plate and the umpire yelled, “OK. Let’s play ball”.

I fixed my glasses, turned the ball around in my hand three times, leaned forward to start my wind-up, kicked my leg up in the air, reared my arm back and threw it as hard as I could to the plate. The red-headed boy swung, missed and the umpire yelled, “Steeerike One”. Phew ! Made it through the first one. Since that worked, I did everything all over again and threw it as hard as I could and the red-headed boy with freckles swung and missed again, “Steerike Two”. Another deep breath and starting with fixing my glasses I went through the whole routine again and the red-headed boy swung again and missed, “Steerike Three. Batter Out”.

One down, two to go. All the kids on my team were yelling stuff and the peopel in the bleachers were starting to get into too.

The next batter stepped up to the plate and he was a lefty. None of my friends were lefties, so I had no experience trying to pitch to any of them. OK, here we go again. Fixed my glasses, rolled the ball around in my hand, kicked my leg and threw it as hard as I could and Bang, right into the catchers’s mitt with the lefty missing the ball by about two feet. “Steerike One”.

“Steerike Two,” this time the lefty didn’t even swing. My first called strike.

All right, I got this one now. I was starting to sweat a lot now in my grey uniform with blue trim. “Steerike Three. Batter Out. Two Outs”.

Now everybody was really yelling from both teams. They were down to their last out and we were one out away from winning the first game of the year on the good field. My heart was pounding and I had to take my blue hat with a “C” on it for Chargers off to wipe the sweat off my forehead that was dripping down onto my glasses. I wiped them off on my jersey. Kenny Costa was up next and stepping up to the plate. When he connects with the ball, it is gone every time. No room for error here with the game on the line.

I threw it as hard as I could, even harder than the other two kids and Crack!, he hit a long fly ball down the left line, the ump runs over to watch the ball, then yells, “Foul Ball. Steerike One”. Both benches were screaming and then there was a big exhale for everybody. It’s just strike one.

I did my whole thing again but this time instead of throwing it as hard as I could, I threw it softly and Kenny missed it by a mile. “Steerike Two”. A bunch of kids laughed and Kenny banged the bat on the plate with his face all red.

One pitch to go, just one pitch. I took a little longer this time before starting my delivery. Kenny Costa looked straight at me with his face red and gripping the bat like his life depended on it. I looked at all the three runners since they would be running on two strikes with two outs. I went through my whole routine, and this time I threw it harder than I ever had in my life, Kenny took a big swing and just missed the ball, “Steerike Three. Batter Out. Game Over!”

My whole team ran to the pitcher’s mound and jumped all over me, even Coach Eddie.

Nine pitches, nine strikes and a one two, three relief appearance my first time on the mound in a real game on the good field.

I started eleven of the final twelve games that year winning every one of them. My name was in the West Essex Tribune every Thursday that summer. But my favorite memory of that season was the first game of the year when I got to pitch in the bottom of the sixth with the bases loaded and no outs for a one, two, three inning on the good field.