The Perfect Pitch

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

"Come on Striker! It's all you, Strike, you got it!"

My fellow players behind me and on the bench yelled words of encouragement as I took a deep breath in and wiped the sweat from my forehead, walking slowly back to my place on the mound.

"Two outs girls! Infield go one outfield shoot two!" My first basemen, Marisa informed the team. "Hey Striker!"

I turned to her quickly over my left shoulder, tossing her a glare.

"Smile, Kid." She said with a wink. I couldn't help but chuckle and roll my eyes as I turned back to face my catcher, Matilda.

It's a joke me and Maris have had since seventh grade when we started playing softball together. She always complains that I don't smile enough when I'm pitching. She thinks I get too "intense" when I get on that mound and she always tries to loosen me up. It's always worked.

I watched Matilda for the sign of what she wants me to pitch. She signaled a curveball on the outside corner. I shook my head. She then gave me an annoyed look and changed it to a drop ball. I nodded. Drop is my best pitch.

I wound up and...

"Strike!" The Umpire exclaimed, gesturing with his hand. I heard the crowd in the stands cheer. It wasn't a very big crowd since it was the first game of the season and it was an away game but that's fine by me. I do better without a crowd. Crowds just... wind me up.

Matilda signaled to me to pitch a fastball. Once again I wound up and let the ball roll off my fingers.

"Strike two!"

Once I got the ball back, the Ump held his hands up, displaying the count. 1 and 2. One ball, two strikes.

I've got this.

Matilda signaled a curveball inside. I instantly shook my head no. We both knew that 5% of the time my curveball would be perfect and the rest of the time, my curveball would be an epic fail.

She ignored my reluctance and gave the sign again, preparing herself for the pitch.

I sighed and got ready to throw it. She wanted me to throw it so I had to. Matilda has been my catcher for years and I trust her when it comes to calling my pitches.

I pitched it and instantly knew. It was terrible. Dropping off the outside corner, and looking nothing like a curveball should.

"Ball!" The Ump shouted. I grinded my teeth together and clenched my fist in frustration as Matilda threw the ball back to me.

"Looked good, Striker, do it again!"

My coach, Basti, shouted to me from her position by the fence, earning a look from the Ump. She gave me an encouraging look and clapped her hands to get me going. She's my favorite coach ever. Basti has been there for me since middle school. She is my role model and she knows me better than I do.

I pitched a fastball right down the middle. It was risky, but I just needed a strike at that point and the girl wasn't swinging at anything. There's a swing... and a miss!

"Three strikes! You're out!"

"Yes, Striker! That's you!" Basti exclaimed. Everyone cheered but it suddenly sounded like more people than before. I turned to the crowd as I jogged off the field, expecting to see just a few moms on the bleachers but I saw something much different.

On the bleachers was the boys baseball team. All clad in their uniforms with dirt adorning their pants. I can practically see the sweat on a few of them. Their game must have ended early.