"You Ready?" My dad asks, tossing the slobbered wiffle ball up in the air.
We are playing wiffle ball, my favorite thing to do with my dad. Our dog Tinker Bell, decides it would be fun to join in, catching the ball and slobbering all over it.
I nod, and plant my tiny feet on the grass. I hold up the yellow bat. "Now, bend your knees, and raise your back elbow." I do as I'm told, uncomfortably.
"Here we go." My dad smiles, and tosses the ball, a stream of dog saliva trailing behind.
I squeeze my eyes shut and take a deep breath, then open, once I see the ball. I raise my front foot, and swing, once the ball is close.
"YOU HIT IT!" My dad jumps up and down. I smile, I made my dad happy. That makes me happy.
I am loving this sport.
Baseball is ninety percent mental and the other half is physical. - Yogi Berra
My T-ball coach used to tell our team, The Gators, that all the time. We were the youngest of all of the T-ball teams. Kindergarten.
"How was practice?" My dad asks me, grabbing my dusty hand as we walked back to the car. "Great." I say, tilting my too big baseball hat back. It doesn't matter, though. It's my very own baseball cap.
"Mom I don't want to do ballet." I whine, trying to pull the skirt off of my body. "You need to try more things." My mom says in a sing songy voice. "Mommmmmm." I whine again. "You're going. No buts." She turns around from the front seat of our new mini van, which I've already secretly stuck a Snow White sticker on the headrest of my seat.
I got kicked out of dance class that day. Sorry to the girl who's hair I pulled.
"I can't believe you." My mom drags me out of the studio, fuming.
"I'm sorry! She stepped on my toes!" I protest. My mom stops, and sighs. Even though she's mad, a small smile makes its way onto her face.
"I'm sorry." She bends down and gives me a hug.
"I'm sorry I blew it." I mutter, my voice muffled. "It's my fault. I shouldn't have pressured you to do something you didn't want to." My mom shakes her head. 'You're getting so old." She laughs. "Sorry?" I say, confused. "Never grow up, Harper." She laughs again, kissing my forehead.
"Guess who gets to go to a Braves game, with her daddy?!" My dad calls cheerfully, leaning on my door frame. "PETER? That's not fair! He doesn't even like baseball." I cross my arms. The Atlanta Braves happened to be the closest to home, so I always wanted to go to a game.
"It's you gufus!" he rolls his eyes at me, waiting to see my reaction.
"Me? Hey.... I am NOT a gufus." I purse my lips. He shakes his head, a light chuckle escaping his lips. "When is it?!" I jump from my bed in my bedroom, onto the floor. I nearly trip, but catch myself on my desk chair.
"Next week." He smiles. "My first baseball game..." I mutter. "Thank you daddy!"
I was only 9 at the time, and the most excited little kid you had probably ever seen.
"Can I have cotton candy pleaseeeee?" I beg, adding extra e's for dramatic effect.
"Fairy Floss? Sure." My dad smiles.
"Fairy floss?" I tilt my head in curiosity, the baseball cap falling over my eyes.
"Yeah. That's what I call cotton candy." He nods clapping his hands together.
"I'll go get you some, don't move." My dad makes me sit. I nod.
"IT'S TIME FOR THE DANCE CAM. EVERYONE GET UP AND GET SHAKIN!" The announcer yells.
"YES!" I shriek, hopping up from my seat.
I start to do what I call pretty awesome dance moves, which probably were amazing if you saw them.
I can hear claps next to me, as I turn in a circle.
"LOOK!" Someone yells, pointing to the Jumbo-Tron.
I'm on the screen!
I start clapping my hands and pretending to drum, and stomping around the opposite way, what I like to call the "Super Duper Dance."
"You're such a goofball." My dad laughs, "You're not on the screen anymore."
"You saw it?!" I smile.
"Of course I did! How could I miss it?!" He pinches my nose,"Here's your fairy floss."
I smirk, and grab the bag, "Thanks for the fairy floss."
Hi. I'm Harper Quincy. I'm a daddy's girl, and I love baseball.
YOU ARE READING
The Sandlot
Action"You play baseball like a girl." That's exactly what Felix Mccormick said to Harper Quincy, 'baseball queen' as her friends like to call her. Of course she plays ball like a girl. She is, in fact, a girl. Harper has been living in Georgia all...
