Posted by: husbandandfatheroffour | June 9, 2014


It is a 3-2 count in the bottom of the last inning.  I am standing on second base and there are two outs.  We are only down by one, after falling behind earlier by 5, against the best team in the league.  A base hit could allow me to tie the game.  The crowd on both sides are clapping and cheering.  It was as if we were in a stadium of 40,000 fans instead of on a field with about 30 people watching our game.  Out in the field you hear all the players chanting, “Hey Batter Batter!”  In the dugout all the kids are yelling, “We want a pitcher not a belly itcher!”  Both the pitcher and the batter had that look of determination. 

 The pitcher wipes his brow and steps back onto the mound.  The batter standing in the box and with a cheek full of big league chew bubble gum takes a few half swings.  The catcher places his mitt where he wants the pitch.  The pitcher winds up and lets it go.  A straight fast ball.  That thing seemed to be going 100 MPH.  The batter starts his swing as he can tell it is going right down the middle.  As the ball crosses the plate the bat meets it.  The ting of the metal bat hitting the ball echoes throughout the ballpark. 

 As I take off from second I watch the ball go over the shortstop’s head and into left field.  From that point on I don’t care where the ball is as I only look at my coach on third base.  As I get closer he is already waving me around.  I round 3rd and start heading for home.  I see the catcher take his stance at the plate, reading for the throw from left field.  I am almost their and I can hear my coaches and teammates telling me to slide.  I see the catchers feet are wide enough apart that I can slide right between them.  I start my slide and at the same time I can hear the ball go buzzing by me.  It is going to be close.  I hear the ball pop into the catcher’s glove and see him bringing the glove down for the tag.  Everything seems like it is going in slow motion.  My feet go sliding perfectly in between the catchers.  I feel my cleats, calves, and knees hit home plate.  A half a second later I feel the catcher tag me on the side as I continued sliding.  I just tied the game.  I pop up pumping my fist.  My teammates are jumping up and down while coming out of the dugout.  We are now tied with a runner at 2nd and our best hitter up.  Our crowd is cheering loudly while theirs seem to be in shock.  I see everyone out in the field lower their heads as if they knew they were going to lose now.

 “OUT!” I hear all of the sudden.  I know he didn’t, but it seemed like the ump waited forever to make the call.  How in the world could he call me out when I know for a fact a third of my body was over the plate before I got tagged?  I turned around and threw my hands up, “What?” 

 Our crowd started booing very loudly.  Our coaches were the ones now in shock.  The head coach goes over to talk to the ump.  I can tell he is upset with the call.  The other team and its crowd can’t believe what just happened either.  They just now understand that the game is over and they won.  After the coach was done talking to the ump, the ump walked off the field.  Booing ensued; some popcorn was thrown at him by a woman in the stands.  The coach came over and let me know that everyone thought I was safe.  As we line up and go and shake the other teams’ hands, even their catcher tells me he thought I was safe.  I can’t believe it.  I head over to the dugout and gather my things.  Not a word is said all the way to the car.  We get in the car and start heading home.  After a few minutes my dad looking in the rearview mirror tries to cheer me up by asking “You want to go get pizza for lunch?”

 I sat their in silence for a second and then said, “Is that your way for making up for a bad call?  You must be blind to have called me out!  Why did you call me out?”

 Years have gone by and to this day we still disagree on the call.  I think the fear of making the other team and their parents mad was why he called me out.  He still says I was out because, “I was”.  Even though we didn’t win, that day has been a great memory for me to have.  It is a memory that lives on still and yes we still debate it from time to time.  Maybe one day up in heaven we can ask God to show us the replay so we will finally know the truth; that I was safe and scored a run that would never be counted.


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