Tuesday, June 4, 2013

Storytime! ...Part 2

Continued...

“Lil bro! Who signed your book?”
            “I got the second baseman’s and the right fielders!” Kris was totally excited. He had always wanted the right fielder’s autograph, mainly for the fact that he thought right field was the coolest position. Not for any logical or reasonable reason, but for the fact that right field tended to be the closest to his older brother and his in-park hangout and because of that he had that feeling that he “knew” the right fielder.
            Kris’ brother was 4 years older than him, his self-appointed guardian and mentor, especially as baseball was concerned. Jason was a pure pitcher. He threw 90 as a sophomore in high school, to go along with a nasty changeup and curve. His ascension to the big leagues seemed almost foregone, and his talent was startling. Kris, on the other hand, was a pure hitter. So in that regard their play styles conflicted, but the two found that it actually was a blessing. Jason could practice pitching against the best, and Kris could practice hitting against the best as well. Jason showed him the ropes on fielding, the best way to camp under a fly ball and how to hit the cutoff man. He taught him some of the art of pitching and strategies pitchers would use against a hitter of his caliber. Kris thought he was learning from the best. Their relationship went way beyond baseball, though. Jason taught him the usefulness of humor and humility, but also when to be funny and when to be strong. Jason was the ultimate brother. Or so Kris thought.
            Jason and Kris were out at the local farm club game. It was their local hangout when nobody else was available to chill. They loved sitting out on the grassy hill out in right field and chugging Coke and hot pretzels, discussing baseball strategy and girls. Today’s game was just over, the local team busting out in the sixth for four runs and the win. The special for today’s game was autographs and “meet the team” after the game. Kris had his autograph book and got a couple pages filled. Including the right fielder. ESPECIALLY the right fielder.
            Kris’ Coke was only half empty so he was sipping on it as they walked back to the car. Jason had gotten his license about a year back and was always excited that he could take his lil’ bro to games, just Kris and him. Dad was always glad to loan his older “errand” car to the kids to go to games in the city—it was only about a 20 minute drive, and the kids knew the back ways and the roads less traveled.
            Jason and Kris meandered back to the car, enjoying the musky warmth of the Jacksonville evening. Kris managed to drop his cola as they were crossing the street. Jason didn’t notice, but after a couple steps of no Kris, looked back. Just in time to throw Kris out of the way of a drunk in a car. And to end up lying unconscious and mangled on the road.

            GAME 1. BRAVES VS. PIRATES.

            “It's a beautiful day here at PNC Park. We've got a good game on tap for today—who do you want to look out for today in the Braves' lineup, Don?”
            “Well Jim, we've got the regulars-Bourne and McCann. But the special one today is a rookie-Kris Michaels, who is making his Major League debut!”
            “Sounds good Don. The kid has potential, that's for sure. He was our best hitter in Spring Training and it was only a matter of time before they called him up. He was tearing up Double-A when he made the jump.”


            Kris was nervous. Man he loved this game, but damn did it mess with your emotions if you let it. They had him batting fifth—FIFTH. Behind the likes of Michael Bourne, Brian McCann, and Dan Uggla. They were showing a lot of faith in him batting him in the middle of the lineup in his first official big league game. Visions of sugarplums and RBI's were dancing in his head for sure. Chill, kid, and make contact. The fame will come-hopefully-but right now gotta stay focused so he can create that fame.

            Crack. Cleanup hitter Uggla led off the second with a drive into the corner in left. He basically walked into second. Even a fatass like Dan couldn't have come up short of a double on that one.

            “Well here he comes. Kris Michaels for his first Major League at-bat—and an RBI chance at that! Think nerves will be a factor here Don?”
            “Absolutely. But I think this kid has the focus and determination to make things happen.”
            “McDonald starts from the stretch. He steps off and looks Uggla back to second. Michaels steps out of the box and re-adjusts his gloves. Steps in and here we go.”

            Kris was almost shaking in the box as he watched McDonald keep tabs on Uggla. Why in the hell he even cared about the big boy on second—he wasn't much of a threat to run. Especially to steal third, nevermind the fact that Kris is a righty. The first pitch came ripping in-strike one.
            “Michaels just watches the first pitch for strike one. McDonald breathes, sets, and fires. Ball one, high and outside.”
            Wow did he want to take a hack at that. Always has been a sucker for the high heat.
            “Ball two. Slider low and inside. Not even close. McDonald looks a little ticked at himself.”         
            McDonald really looks pissed at himself, muttering expletives under his breath. That ball was almost a wormburner inside. Maybe he can get into Mac's head. If he could just throw a fat pitch here on 2-1....
            “Uggla takes his lead off second. The outfield is playing normal depth, normal rotation. McDonald readies himself and fires--”
            Hello there, beautiful. A 2-1 fastball belt-high that catches just a bit too much of the plate. Michaels hacks and the ball jumps off his bat. He takes off for first.
            “Michaels rips that pitch into the gap in right-center! This one is trouble! Could be extra bases! They're waving Uggla around third and HE WILL SCORE! Michaels gets his first hit, RBI, and extra-base hit all in his first at-bat! Welcome to the Shooooowwww!”

            He slides into second even though he probably could have done without. Michaels calls time, stands up, and smacks his hands together a few times in excitement. He looks to the dugout and everybody is jumping. Dan looks over before descending the stairs and gives him a thumbs-up. Man, that felt good.

To be continued...

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