I Hated Going to My Brother?s Baseball Games
?I?m not going!? I insisted.
?Of course you are. Get in the car,? was always my mother?s reply.
I reluctantly did as she said. I hated going to my brother?s baseball games. Did he have to attend my dance rehearsals and recitals? Of course not. But that was just some of the double standards that I became accustomed to as the youngest in the family. The games were always played at the field by Duck Creek Park. Baseball fields were carefully placed throughout the park like rouge on my grandmother?s cheeks. Each strategically placed. Neurotic parents screamed encouraging words to their children and colorful words to the opposing team.
In the far corner of the park, children enjoyed their freedom on the playground and swam in the public pool. I had to remain where my mother could see me. She ?didn?t care what other mothers allowed ? she was not going to allow [me] to play clear across the park.?
?What if something happened? What if you got hurt or someone took you??
?That would be more fun than this!? I was a bit melodramatic.
Sometimes it wasn?t too bad. Mom would give me some money to get a treat from the concession stand. This is probably what began my obsession with concession foods-but that is another year of therapy in the discussion. I would often beg my mother to allow me to bring a friend. Which one was so lucky? We would drag a heavy bag of things to play with as we waited for this ever so long game to end.
As I grew older and interests changed, my disgust for baseball changed. I realized my brother played baseball on a team of all boys. He was fourteen and I was eleven. I was infatuated with his teammate, Alex. I had discovered a love for baseball and especially my brother?s baseball games. My friend, Rianna, and I carefully planned our wardrobe for each baseball game. This was a new enthusiasm.
The overcast sky should have been a clue to the events that would take place that unforgettable Saturday. Rianna and I decided we would impress my brother?s teammates with our swift speed by racing to the car after the game was over. This was especially important to me. I knew that I excelled at running. Alex was sure to notice. We tore off across the grass toward the cars. As I ran, I felt the warmth in my chest from each deep breath I took. In the corner of my eye, I realized that Rianna was gaining speed. Her short legs were gaining on me and now I helplessly watched as she passed me. I pushed harder feeling my muscles burn and I began to be overcome with fatigue. Just when I thought the race was over, a wonderful thing had happened. It was as if God was watching down on me and decided to give me some help. As I struggled to catch up with Rianna, I watched as she was thrown back a few feet and dropped to the ground.
Proof.
It was proof that God wanted me to win and Alex to notice.
And then?WHAM!
I slowly opened my eyes. What was once black now began to brighten until it faded to a soft powder blue. Clouds eased over my head. The silence that I had not noticed earlier became almost deafening. As I lay there, the numbness that consumed my body was slowly replaced by new sensations with overwhelming acuteness. My stomach clenched and turned like the time I had the bad egg salad. I struggled to take each shallow breath. Pain spread throughout my body with every motion. As I struggled to make sense of what happened, I remembered Rianna. I slowly turned my head and observed Rianna lying in the same position beside me. She also seemed to piecing the events together. Now aware of all of my limbs and their newfound sensitivity, I scanned our surroundings. A rope. A single rope had led to our near demise. Whose bright idea was it to place such an obviously camouflaged weapon out as a defining perimeter for parked cars? Couldn?t any young, enthusiastic person fall victim to this apparent trap?! Then I remembered why we were out there. Had he noticed? Would he render aid if he had? Should I reposition my body in a more picturesque fashion? Currently, I looked as though I were about to make snow angels in the dirt. Painstakingly, I propped myself up on my elbows. A red and purple stripe now adorned my stomach. The rope must have gripped tightly. As I lay there on the ground fully aware of what had taken place, my brother, his teammates and Alex walked past.
Alex did not render aid. Nor did he ask how I was. They walked past as if not to notice Rianna or me at all. I watched as they laughed and commented on the game?s successes. No second glance. No first glance, for that matter. My chances with Alex were obviously blown. I threw my head back to the ground. The pain no longer bothered me. I deserved it. What a fool I was. Why couldn?t that rope have just finished the job? It would have been less humiliating. As I played the race over and over in my head, I rewound each move and thought. To think I believed that God was helping me win the race and win Alex?s attention. Obviously, He had a different plan for me. As I gazed back up at the sky, the clouds continued to pass overhead. As they passed, they smiled, laughed ? almost mocking me. I closed my eyes once again. I hated going to my brother?s baseball games.