Wednesday, May 20, 2015

The Game

The Game


The noise of Jack’s alarm clock had been going off for the last three minutes. He didn’t feel like getting up for school, he wanted to time-travel to the baseball game later. After another three minutes went by, Jack finally got up to go take a shower and eat breakfast.
“Whats up Jack?” asked Jack’s father.
“Nothing much,” replied Jack.
“Well, you better be ready for your baseball game later because your coach called and said you’re pitching today,” stated Jack’s father.
“Why is coach making me pitch? I pitched last game,” cried Jack. “Coach won’t stop making me pitch.” Jack walked over to the refrigerator to grab an ice pack for his arm.
“I don’t see what the big deal is kiddo, he just wants you to get into a good college for baseball,” notified Jack’s father.
“Whatever,” muttered Jack as he walked over to the closet to grab his book bag and his baseball gear. Jack walked out the front door to drive to school in his 1970 Corvette that his dad customized. As he pulled out the driveway, his dad called him telling him that his coach has gotten a few letters from a few colleges.
Once Jack got to school, he was greeted by a few of his classmates.
“Whats up?” asked Fred as Joe, Austin, and Brady followed him.
“Nothing much, my dad and coach are still riding me about going to college,” replied Jack. “I just wish my dad would just watch me play, and not try to find things I did wrong.”
“Well, don’t let it get to you, remember this is the most important game of the season,” reminded Austin.
Jack, Joe, Austin, Fred, and Brady all walked together to each of their classes because they all have the same classes. During the middle of class, Jack was pulled out of his Literature class and greeted by his coach in the office.
“I wanted to know if there was something wrong with you,” smiled Jack’s coach.
“I am feeling good, but my arm isn’t feeling up to its best, It hurts to move it, even ice won’t really help it,” notified Jack.
“I don’t want any whining from you,” snapped Jack’s coach. “Now you’re going to pitch that whole game, Oregon is going to be there watching.”
Coach was pacing back and forth, looking at Jack with a look of desperation.
“I don’t know….,” said Jack with a worried look on his face.
“Don’t ever say that to me, you are our whole team, and are going to win us the championship!” screamed Jack’s coach.
“Jeez,” sassed Jack, “What do you want from me?”
“Get out of my office,” yelled Jack’s coach.
Jack stood up from his chair and walked over to the door, swung it open and ran out.
Later that day, after school got over, Jack and his squad went to the locker rooms and changed into their uniforms then headed towards the baseball field. Jack almost always played catch with Joe because he was the catcher for the team. Jack went through the warm-ups trying to get his arm feeling good.
It was finally time for the game to start, and Jack wasn’t feeling up to it. His team was up first to bat against the Cowboys of Arlington, and they had a good pitching staff lined up against them. Jack was fifth up to bat, and coach wasn’t wanting him to do anything but pitch.
“No!” stated Jack’s coach, “you are not hitting tonight.”
“Why, I have a 30 percent hitting average,” urged Jack.
“Ok, do whatever you want, I don’t care,” moaned Jack’s coach.
Jack went out and into the on-deck circle waiting for his turn to hit. Jack was zoning off when all of a sudden a foul ball was barreling straight for his head. Jack tried to dodge it, but it hit him in his neck, and he fell like bricks to the ground. Jack’s parents rushed out to the field screaming asking for someone to help him.
“How many fingers am I holding up son?” asked Jack’s father. Then Jack’s father inspected further, and saw that the ball had shattered his jaw.
“Oh my god, call the hospital!” Jack’s mother screamed.
Jack’s mother tried to wake him up, but Jack wasn’t able to sit up. Jack finally opened up one of his eyes and tried looking around. He tried talking, but his jaw was mangled up, and he couldn’t talk.
“Mum,” Jack whispered, “What happened?”
“You got hit in the face with a baseball,” replied Jack’s mother. “Don’t try to talk though honey.”
Jack pushed his jaw up, and he thought he could still play the game. He tried standing up, then he tripped on the bat that he was using, and hit his head hard.

Jack was pronounced dead a week later from head injuries, and was remembered as the best baseball player in Texas.

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