Baseball

All or Nothing

A bead of sweat builds at my forehead and trickles across my sun-kissed cheek. I lick my lips and they are extremely salty. It is mid afternoon and the sun is bright. The crowd is on their feet screaming and yelling words of encouragement to both teams. I hear fans telling me that I can do it, as if what they say can change the outcome of the game.
I look down the third base line at my coach. He claps his hands and winks at me. As I step up to the plate, I kick the end of my bat on my cleats and dirt falls off. I dig in and get into my stance. I look up and as my eyes meet the pitcher’s my fingers grip even tighter around the large metal bat. I look at the sweet spot of the bat and pictur...