baseball fantasy

It was a hard swing, as hard a swing as Ed had mustered all game. Not knowing which had come first, the slap of the ball filling the catcher’s mitt or the realization he had missed entirely. First a ball and now this clean miss, still one and one, he would have taken this before leaving the bench against the arm throwing for them today.

While Ed sleeps at night his mind finds solace in the plays of the week, or for that matter the season. It’s amazing what the subconscious retains when dealing with matters of the heart and baseball uses up his attention. At sixteen, no longer afraid to belong, baseball is his salvation, deliverance from childhood. He has found a common field of play. This diamond in the rough so to speak, allows confidence to flex unimpeded by poor performance he can bask in the experience that is team.His mental play book expanding its pages for the sleeps ahead.

So, what is this feeling of dread? Kicking at the bag, stepping back and going through his checklist something is not right. The bat hangs heavy. The throw catches him thinking when thought should give way to instinct. Strike two! Man a fastball, I know this guy will go after the batter! What was it coach has been saying!? Don’t tip your play, the body reflects the mind, stare them down for Christ sake!

Spring seemed light years earlier. The months of winter have passed and the worst season of Ed’s hockey career is now, finally, only a faint script in his slumber. Although the midget team had done quite well Ed had not. A preseason injury at the school practice field of all places had set the wheels of under achievement in play. As driven as he was to overcome this setback the late start coupled with poor decision making on the ice surface had stolen confidence and the cruelty of internal competition kept him riding the pines most of the season. Not since banishment from the elementary schoolyard recess crowd had he felt such rejection. As it turned out this year was pivotal in Ed’s life, establishing his commitment, nonetheless’ a painful process.

Batting early in the rotation, already the Adamsdale Brigade have one on third, the score five to four in their favor this turn at bat is crucial as the eighth inning winds down and there are two outs.

His hands sweat and he can’t stop fidgeting. The throw; every ounce wants to rip the cover off the ball but he doesn’t swing. Ball two. No surprise.

No other sport is as calculated as baseball. Statistics dictate the strategy, from how many throws a pitcher has in him to when the time is right to swing the bat, or not. Every play has a number tagged to it and every player is a number. Fourth in the rotation, second baseman, batting averages and earned runs, all examples of a players tag, his identity. Yet when played at its purest level the formulas are transparent, you simply feel it. The mathematics translates itself, numbers become patterns, patterns routine and repetition manifests confidence.

Two and two is a pitchers advantage, he’s going to fire one for the outside of the plate, try to get the batter to reach for it and failing that has room in the count to eat the ball. The pitcher knows it, Ed knows, everyone knows.

Inside Ed’s peripheral vision the coach is sending a signal. You have got to be kidding? Coach signals to lay one down and get third home. Doesn’t he know I’m about to explode inside!? Can’t he see me shaking? OK I get it, have to calm myself, step away and steady for the play. The pitch will be off speed and outside, all I have to do is step up and get a piece. All I have to do is focus, visualize the play and execute! Ed digs in.

Sounds simple doesn’t it? Actually it would be if only he could control the emotions. His particular sporting affliction has always been a double edged sword. As much as Ed can be counted on to show up and play with all his might he can also be expected to lose control. Spill his load, so to speak. Unabashed exuberance almost always his undoing, a fact his baseball coach believes makes him a better fit for hockey where the physical play affords a relief valve for surging emotions. At a later juncture in life, if not for sport and the hard lessons learned, his propensity for emotional outbursts could well have caused grief.

Must focus, visualize! Ed stands poised, anticipating the pitch, his breathing slows, and he can finally feel the bat, he twists the grip as if grinding pepper over a plate of pasta. You know, it’s that surreal when panic gives way to calm, when one arrives in the zone the field opens up. It’s not just him and the pitcher! He sees the runner on third, he knows, the coach knows. He sees the third baseman standing slack beyond the plane of the base run, panning, again it’s his timetable, the first baseman is fixated on home plate yet seems oblivious to third.

The pitcher begins his windup, yep, there it is, the open stance telegraphing the off speed pitch. .Lowering the bat Ed step’s forward sliding his strong side in behind, poised for the bunt. The ball leaves early and starts high, no matter, it comes back, in real time, not slowly but in the zone, it seems one can count steam bolts while waiting for it. Meanwhile the field jolts as if just arriving, every player seeming off balance, not aware, all he sees is the ball lumbering at him like something is carrying it. All that is left is to hit the top of the ball, contact is made.Done!

Dropping the bat and almost jumping clear of his shoes he chases the ball, crossing over as it hits the first base line, fair. Legs firing on reflex he races the boys to the ball, he can see the pitcher scrambling laterally but no worry as the play to home has passed him by, it’s that guy churning up the sod dead ahead that screams for Ed’s attention. As they meet at the ball head on he gives him nothing! Not one inch! By the time they shake it off the play is over. The pitcher has tracked down the ball and Ed is out, but not before his team-mate has made it home from third.

The premise of sacrifice lends an honorable tone to everything that is team. Winning a game enables the team, allows its encroachment on the individual. That day, on that field of dreams a potential was realized, demons were conquered as the dragon was slain and the prize claimed. The great game of baseball had in the name of sport and fun channeled anxiety leaving behind a fingerprint, an identity, confidence. Tools of life forged from experience.

Sleep well Ed.