The Book of the One

INNING № 6

I made one All-Star game in my whole life. Because one boy’s parents made him go on vacation instead. They put me in late and my one at-bat came in the bottom half of the ninth inning. Down by one. Two out. Men on first and second. Third base coach put the double-steal on. Why I don’t know. It’s not good baseball. Runner was out at third by a full three feet. Ballgame. Me with the bat on my shoulder. Not even a jot in the box score to prove I had been there. When I complained to Daddy in the car on the way home he told me not to pretend I was something I could never be.

I could say I did it because I had not hit the ball hard in weeks.

I could say I did it because baseball is not baseball without someone taking undue advantage.