Living the Dream

“Now batting, number eighty-eight, Ralph Murphy.”

The small crowd clapped and cheered as Ralph made his way from the on-deck circle to home plate. It was his dream to play in a big league park for a big league team, and, right now, half of his dream had come true. Shibe Park was the home for the Philadelphia Athletics, but Ralph was playing for the Williamsport Grays, the A’s farm team. It had been a long bus ride into Philly to play the exhibition series against the University of Pennsylvania Quakers, but the Grays had recovered from the trip to split the first two games. Now, Ralph was coming up in the top of the ninth to try to extend the Grays slim one run lead.

Ralph dug into the dirt at the back of the batter’s box and moved as close to the plate as he legally could. He towered over the umpire who watched him get ready before calling for the pitcher to deliver. The catcher gave Ralph a glance before giving his signals to his pitcher. After checking the runner at first, the pitcher fired a fastball across the inside of the plate. It was a pitch that Ralph couldn’t hit, at least, not well, so he let it go by.

“Strike!”

Ralph dug into the dirt again to stabilize his footing. The freshman on the mound had pitched a very good game for an eighteen year-old, allowing only three runs with two walks and a hit batsman, Ralph in the fourth inning. Unfortunately for the young pitcher, the Quakers had only given him two runs in support, so he was fighting to keep the game close in the hope that his team could deliver more runs in the bottom half of the inning.

The catcher gave a glance toward the runner at first before showing his signs to the pitcher. Once again, the freshman checked the runner at first before delivering another fastball. This time, the pitch was to the outside and low. It skipped through the left side box and off of the catcher’s chest protector toward the third base side dugout. The runner on first took off and was at second before the catcher had corralled the ball. The crowd clapped and cheered the heads-up play, just like they did the entire game.

Ralph could admire the kids on Penn’s team, but he also was jealous. He wanted to go to college, but he could never afford it. His only skill was the ability to hit a ball with a bat, cover first base with average skill, and occasionally play in the outfield. He knew from the start that playing baseball wouldn’t pay the bills after his career was over, but he was hoping, by this time in his life, to be playing for the A’s against Yankees and Red Sox, not against a college team looking for more experience. Every scout told him the same thing: his bat wasn’t powerful enough, he wasn’t strong enough, and he wasn’t fast enough to cover for his deficiencies in the other areas.

Not powerful enough, he thought as the catcher delivered his signs to the pitcher. You want power? I’ll show you power.

The next pitch was a slow curveball that seemed to hang in the air. Ralph had struck out earlier in the game watching a curve that looked like it was going to hit him but passed down the middle of the plate instead. This pitch was doing the exact same thing, and Ralph grinned. The kid had made a mistake.

Ralph timed his swing perfectly, and, with a crack, the ball exploded off of the bat. At first, it looked like the ball might easily clear the thirty-four foot wall in right field, and the crowd rose to its feet with a roar. Then, gravity took over, and the ball fell like a stone. The right fielder never gave up on catching it, and he was under it as it came down right on the edge of the warning track. The runner tagged up from second thinking that a throw from that distance would be difficult, but the right fielder gave everyone another surprise. With a two step run up, the outfield threw an accurate one-hop throw to the third baseman beating the runner by two feet. A cheer went up from the crowd celebrating the excellent play.