Grand Slam: Cooperstown, NY.
Callum Flint
I waited in anticipation as my flight was called for boarding. I was getting on a flight to Cooperstown for a baseball tournament. I went with a couple of my family members, except my brother didn’t want to be here.
Now, this tournament would be just like any other one, except for one thing. In the park, you stay with your team in your numbered barracks. You eat, sleep, and play with your team. You only see relatives for a few minutes before and after the games and then after the tournament is over.
Anyway, the way the tournament is structured in 104 teams. Each team plays two games every day for three days. Those games you play, whether you win or lose, puts your team into standings of 104 teams. Then, on Thursday, Elimination Day, you try to go on to win the tournament in a single-elimination, mini-tournament. The higher in the rank of 104, the fewer games you need to play to win the tournament.
To make a long story short, we lost all the games in the pre-tournament. Then on On Thursday, Elimination day rolled around. After losing alI of our previous games, I wasn’t feeling confident. If we lost the first game, we would be out of the tournament and would have to go home.
The first half of the game went okay. We scored a few runs and started adding to our score, but the other team was doing the same. One of the best players on their team had been hitting non-stop singles and doubles all night. Then that player was up. We were tied up as he marched up to the plate confidently, and on the first pitch, BOOM, out of the park. Now that was not good since they had two runners on base. That player had hit in 3 runs in one pitch. We were down by three as we walked off the field defeated after 8 innings of back and forth baseball. All of my team was tired and sore, it being 10:30 by then. But the thing is, I wasn't playing in the field because of an elbow injury, so I was full of energy. I desperately tried to fire my team up, but to no avail. I looked at the line up to call who was next up, and I read them off.
“Tyler, Luca, Me!” I said aloud for my team.
I put on my helmet, since I was up in two batters, and tightened the leather strap on my batting gloves. I reached into my baseball bag for my trusty bat and grabbed it out. I had gotten the bat about a year ago from the tournament. It was the top bat of the year when I got it, and it has since been passed, unfortunately. But the bat I purchased was made of a composite material, which means the more you play with it, the better and more broken in it gets. So this bat was the best bat I could’ve had for that game. I watched as my team got three runners on base, and got out twice. I got up and walked up to the plate. I had a mission. Now there were two outs, and we were down by 3 runs.
The bases were loaded, and a base hit would be crucial to getting our lead back. We all know that one smell of freshly cut grass before you walk onto the field, floating through the air. That smell was mixed with the dirt particles in the air from the infield, and it smelled like baseball. I gripped the bat slightly as I walked up to the batter’s box. If I got out, it would be our last out of the tournament. If you’ve ever played baseball, you’ll know that the worst feeling in the world is being the last out, so the pressure was on.
The first pitch was a curveball, and it swooped into the zone at the last second, barely being a strike. I shook my head as I saw the ump made his call. "Strike!" the ump punched the air to the right of me. I noticed the pitcher nod his head after the first sign, or so I thought. This would mean that he's probably throwing a fastball, because that's usually the first pitch catchers call on a 0-1 count. And just like I thought, the pitcher threw a swooping fastball straight down the middle. I swung the bat smoothly through the zone, making sure to contact the ball right in the sweet spot of the bat.
The ball flew off the bat as fast as possible, flying over the field at what seemed like light speed. I couldn't believe my eyes as I saw the ball soar almost ten feet over the wall, clearing it completely. I threw the bat down and jumped up, punching the air as I saw my team rounding the bases, scoring four runs in one hit and shifting the tide of the game in our favour. I ran around the bases one at a time, making sure to touch each one. I walked back to the dugout as my team congratulated me, patting me on the back.
"I knew one of you guys was going to hit it, but it's surprising you hit it, Cal, because of your elbow and all," my coach was making the line-up for the next game, and I saw him move me up a spot. After the hit, we wrapped up the game with a few base hits in the 9th inning, and we shook the other team’s hands, feeling like winners.
I went to dinner that night with my team, contemplating what just happened. Most of what happened next was a blur to me. I only remember going back to the house we rented after the tournament, (we lost the next game, meaning we were out), and having a fun time with my family. The only thing I know is that this time in my life was an amazing chance to play baseball, have fun, and spend time with my family. This life-changing experience won't be forgotten.
