When I was about 12, two ‘travel’ teams were formed for my hometown. Interest in the town’s “official” Little League was waning as more kids were playing other sports (lacrosse?) or joining more competitive non-endorsed leagues. Both of these teams consisted of players who just signed up, not All-Stars. As such, we did not expect good results when we were scheduled to play other town’s All-Star teams around the county.

Because we were traveling to other towns, we were given the chance to play on fields with fences. This was a real treat because just like any other kid, I dreamt of hitting one over the fence. I was not a power hitter by any means. I hit a few balls that rolled past the outfielders and used my speed to run out a home run or two, but I never had the pleasure of trotting around the bases and being ‘the man’ for a moment.

My team, the Orioles, had a game scheduled against one of the more athletic towns’ All-Star team. We kept the game close, surprisingly, and by the end of the 5th inning were only down by 1 run. The other team’s coach decided in the top of the 6th inning that it was time to bring in his closer. You could tell by the hometown fans’ applause that this guy was well liked and probably pretty good. He came in and quickly disposed of the first two hitters with 6 blazing, but straight heaters. I was the next guy up.

Earlier in the game, the players on the opposing team made some jokes about the way I pulled my pants above my stir-ups. I said that it was just the way George Brett did it. That did nothing to win their favor. When my turn came to the plate, I tried to maintain my composure. STRIKE ONE! the Ump yelled. I stepped out of the batters box and told myself that if I just timed my swing a second earlier that I could hit the ball. Next pitch — fastball on the outside corner — WHAMMY! I took a hard swing and as I was running towards first base saw the ball disappear into the sunlight and just over the fence. After I crossed homeplate I turned back to look at the pitcher who stood there in disbelief. The dorky kid with high stir-ups had just taken him deep. Few moments in my life have ever given me greater satisfaction.

Pete said…
Way to toot your own horn, boss.
…I mean what are blogs for, anyway?

Incidentally, I myself hit a Home Run once in Little League for my team, the 0-11 “Angels.”

It dribbled all the way to centerfield through about six opponents’ legs.

3:53 PM

Anonymous said…
I liked readiung this one so much I forwarded it to a woman I work with.

1:26 PM

Max said…
Man, I remember my only LL home run. I didn’t even think I hit it all that hard, I guess I just got the sweet spot and the wind did the rest.

That kinda made up for the back to back 1-15 seasons.

2:59 PM