Home Run

I remember it like it was yesterday.
It was a perfect day for baseball. The sun was a bright warm 75 degrees without a cloud in the deep blue sky. The outfield grass was a freshly mowed vibrant green blanket. The infield dirt was a rich brown like milk chocolate without a single footprint. The snack bar was open with little kids all gathered around to buy candy and bubble gum. The bleachers were full for the championship game. The seats were a buzz with people laying out their case for why their team should win.

We were all sitting up straight on the dugout bench, nervous, feet together, staring at the coach pacing back and forth. Mr. Dugan was preaching at us again, "Boys, this is the best season the Yankees have had since I became coach and that is longer than most of you have been playing ball." He stops to scan our faces looking for some reaction but none was forthcoming. He continued. "This is for all the marbles." Again, there was no reaction. The truth of the matter was we were afraid to say anything. When Mr. Dugan gets this way, all focused and serious, it is best not to say anything.

Figuring that there wasn't going to be a reaction, he changed his approach, "Never mind that boys, you all put out 110% and I am proud to have been your coach. If we beat the Braves, we'll be the Champs, Number One!" He pumped his fist in the air, but there was still no reaction. 'What's with these guys,' he said to himself. "Oh sure, they've not lost a game, and the Braves are the only team to beat us this year. But DON'T let that bother you. That is all behind us now." Mr. Dugan makes a sweeping motion with both his hands off to the side like he was pushing something out-of-the-way. "Sure, they're bigger than us. Maybe they've scored more runs than us. But DON'T let it bother you. Just go out there and play your best!" He was all smiles as he finished with his hands on his hips scanning our emotionless faces. 'Are these guys even awake?'

We weren't sure if that was supposed to motivate us or scare us. The fact that the only team we'd lost to all season was now our opponents in the Championship game. The Braves had a pitcher and several other players moving up to the majors next year. Most of us were only in our second year of Little League and were just coming into our own. The only reason we won the games we did, was that the other teams had more beginners.
Mr. Dugan gave it one last try. "Come on guys, give us a cheer." Tommy took his mitt off his head and Fred took his arms out from inside his jersey and Charlie's bubble gum bubble popped all over his face. We all took off our hats and mitts and threw them in the air screaming "BEAT THE BRAVES. YEAAAAH!" The looks on our faces told the real story. It would take a miracle to beat the Braves.

My name's Hank and I told everyone I was named after Hank Aaron, but the truth was, it was my Uncle's name whom I'd never met. I played Right Field because I was the only one left besides Timmy, who wore a brace on his leg and didn't run very well. The coach used him as a bat boy. The truth of the matter was that I was pudgy, I ran slow, I dropped balls and I couldn't hit. They even put me last in the line up because the batting order was best hitters first.

I joined Little League (minors) at eight years old because my friends did and the uniforms were cool. Now that I was all grown up, at almost 10, I had a girl to impress. Loretta was in my 5th grade class and the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. Even with braces, her smile melted my heart, especially if it was aimed at me. She even gave me a Valentine Card last February, along with everyone else.

Loretta had been coming to the games with her friend Linda. Linda was sweet on Howard, our pitcher and the best hitter. I always made a point to say hi to Loretta before and after the game, but I don't think she had been impressed yet. Today will be different!
As I scanned the larger than usual crowd, I saw Loretta sitting next to Linda, "Hi, Loretta," I yell and wave. I had a smile that stretched from ear to ear.

She turned her head to see who had called her name. "Oh, hi Hank," She responded softly with a curt wave and semi smile. She took a quick look around to see if anyone had noticed. 'She acknowledged my existence and that's good enough for me! She will think differently after my performance today. This is my last chance to impress her.' I said to myself as my brow furrowed with a determination like you would have on that last struggling chin-up.

We were home team and up first. I didn't get a chance to show my new batting skills because I was 9th and we only got to 6th in the line up before we forfeited 3 outs. Charging into the outfield, mind-set, slamming my fist into my mitt, I kept repeating, 'I'm not going to drop the ball. I'm not going to drop the ball.'

The third batter slammed one in my direction. I didn't even have to move. I squinted because the sun was right in my eyes. I held my hand up to block the sun just in time to see the ball bounce off the tip of my mitt and drop straight to the ground. Cursing under my breath, I turned around a couple of times to locate the ball before I picked it up quickly and threw it to the second baseman just in time to prevent a triple. 'I have to do better next time, I have to!' I admonished myself and thrust my hand hard into my mitt several times hopping people will think it was the mitt's fault.

When the third out came, I trotted across the field and into the dugout. Loretta and Linda were laughing, probably at me. I also noticed my Dad in the bleachers. He waved, so I waved back slyly hoping no one noticed. 'Why is he here?' I pondered. He had never been to any of my games previously, because he worked late and the games were usually mid afternoon. I bet Mom made him take off work to watch the last game. 'Now I really have to improve my play.' I think to myself as I take my seat. 'I don't want to let my Dad down.'

When I got my turn at bat, I struck out. Three high pitches and I swung with all my might at every one of them. 'DAMN, I have to do better than that. Everyone thinks I'm a looser.' I yelled at myself as I slinked back to the dugout with my head down dragging the bat. I was embarrassed to look at anyone. Mr. Dugan was shaking his head mumbling, "Don't swing at the high ones."

"Hank!" I heard over by the fence and looked up to see my Dad standing there flagging me over. I glanced at the coach who gave me a nod indicating it was alright to go to him. I walked over sheepishly. "Where are your glasses?" He asks.
"They're at home." I said. "They make me look stupid."

"I'll be right back." My Dad said and rushed off. 'Oh, that's great, he will make me wear my glasses and Loretta will think I'm a nerd. That's all I need right now. After all this time of not wearing them in class and struggling to see the blackboard, the secret will be out.' I tortured myself as I headed back out into right field. My mind had definitely moved away from baseball.

Fortunately, no balls made their way to right field that inning. I was heading back to the dugout when Mr. Dugan waves for me to come over. 'Oh great, he has my glasses dangling in his fingertips.' I was thinking as I approached.
"Hank, you mean to tell me you wear glasses? No wonder you can't hit or catch anything. I want you to put these on and don't take them off." He scolded as he handed me the horn rimmed glasses. My heart sank as I put them on. 'My love life is over,' was all that was running through my mind.

When my dreaded turn at bat arrived, we had managed to load the bases with two outs. We only need one run to tie the game. I could hear the people in the bleacher moaning when they saw me. My teammates were more vocal about their disappointment. The coach swatted me on the butt and said, "Eye on the ball, Hank. Don't swing at the high ones." All except my dad who I could hear clearly yelling, "Come on Hank, you can do it!" I didn't look into the bleachers because I didn't want anyone to see me wearing glasses. Instead, I stayed with my back to the crowd and moseyed up to the plate. I gripped the bat strong, planted my feet, and gave the pitcher an icy stare that said, 'Give me your best shot.' My heart on the other hand was saying, 'Good luck you loser.'

The ball was hurled at an amazing speed and I watched the threads rotate as if in slow motion. At least the glasses gave me a good clear view of the ball. My swing was swift and hard. I was as surprised as everyone when I heard a CRACK indicating that I actually hit the ball. After all, I had never heard THAT before. It flew like it was attached to a rocket. With all eyes watching the flight, it hit the fence out in center field. I was in shock and stood there staring. "RUN!" everyone was shouting. I dropped the bat and ran as fast as my pudgy legs would carry me. When I was approaching the base, the first base coach was yelling, "KEEP GOING!" I rounded the base and headed for second. Glancing out into center field, I saw the fielder just getting to the ball. I swung my head around and could see the third base coach flagging me over to third. I put all I had into running as I gasped for breath. I never was very fast.

The third base coach by now was yelling for me to slide. 'You have got to be kidding. I can hardly breathe and you want me to slide? I'll kill myself.' At least that was what was rattling around in my brain. I stuck my right foot out and tucked my left foot under and went down hard. Surprisingly, I beat the ball.

I couldn't believe it. 'I HIT A TRIPLE!' I thought as I lay there in the dust cloud not being able to move. I ached all over. I dragged myself up and looked over at the bleachers to see everyone was up and cheering. Loretta was jumping and clapping while starring right at me. A sense of pride and accomplishment swarmed over me. 'I just put our team ahead.' What a play!
As the game progressed, I caught 3 fly balls and threw a player out at second. My next time up, I hit a home run scoring the winning run. The whole team had left the dugout and surrounded home plate when I came in. They were jumping on me and hitting me on the back. A couple even tried to pick me up, but that didn't work very well and gave up. I couldn't believe the feeling of happiness.

But, all that paled to when I was headed for the dugout and there was Loretta at the fence. "Way to go, Hank. You're the best. Will you walk me home?"
"Sure!" I said. 'I can't believe she doesn't seem to matter that I wear glasses. I should have worn them a long time ago.'
After the hand shakes and coaches final speech naming me the MVP, I was heading out the gate where my Dad was waiting. "Hey there, If it isn't Mr. October. Can I give you a lift home, Champ?"
"No, I am walking Loretta home." I said and looked up in his eyes that were full of pride and a little teary. I then, along with my Dad, glanced back by the gate and saw Loretta waiting for me.

My Dad smiled, "Don't be long Champ. Your mother will want to hear all the detail."
"Thanks, Dad." I said as I walked back to Loretta and we strolled off together hand in hand.
I never did take my glasses off again. I married Loretta and we have 3 boys that were great in Little League. I even was assistant coach one season. But, I will never forget when I was Mr. October.