“Crack” the sound of the baseball jumping of my bat. The coach’s favorite sound of all time. My teams, the Faribault Falcons, are playing the Owatonna Huskies, the best team in the division. It’s Opening Day and the odds of us winning are not in our favor. After going 5-21 last season. Our star player which is me Jake Alexander is 0 for 2 with an RBI groundout. We are losing 5-1 after five innings.
Our coach, Coach Stocker is shouting out encouragements to our pitcher Payton. “You got this son”, “this kid can’t even hit”. I though it wasn't working. The count is now 2-0, and Payton leaves one hanging right on top of the plate, and some fat kid, who hit it as far as I’ve ever seen a ball get hit. It cleared are 250-feet fence by about 50-feet. “Uh-Oh” another pitch right down the middle. This time it’s a rocket to first!!! I dive and make the catch. “Nice catch Jake” yells Payton. “I got you” I muttered sarcastically. The inning is over; we actually have a chance to rally. “Hey were already doing better than last year” yells are catcher Colton as were walking into the dugout. The run difference is about 10 runs lower. We lost our first game 12-2 last year. We barely did anything towards the end of game, we lost 5-3. I hit a two-run double with two outs in the sixth, but that’s all we could muster. But considering how bad our team is we might as well have won.
The next day we had practice and Coach Stocker really believes in hard exhausting practices. Maybe that’s why we’re doing better than last year. We always have fun in practice but rarely in games. Practice was no different; we had batting practice while the other players fielded. It’s not looking good for our next game; even though we’ll be playing the second worst team in the division the Northfield Raiders. We might actually win a game I thought. That seems to be the attitude going into the bottom of the sixth inning. Were up 6-4, and our closer Omar, is pitching. Sure thing right? Omar is not are best pitcher but has the stuff to get us through the inning. “We have a chance” said Stocker. The first batter walked, “Turn Two!” I yelled from first base. The next batter gets plunked. Runners are now on first and second, the winning run is at the plate with no outs. The guy is a pretty good hitter too; maybe that’s why he bats clean up. The first pitch is hammered to left field; all I have to say is “that was close”. A walk-off homerun and the game is over. Gee, what a surprise we’re 0-2.

Because of the bad lost Coach decided to crack down and have a tougher practice. I know I’m tired of losing. It seemed that way today. Everybody who missed a fly ball during outfield practice had to run a lap around the fence, which at its shallowest is around 280 feet. This kid named B.J had to do it about five times. We also had to do this really exhausting drill where you fielded a groundball at second base, threw to first, ran to first, caught a ball, and then ran to shortstop to get in line to field another groundball. That was tiring. If this doesn’t make us win, nothing will.
Bottom of the sixth, we’re down 5-3 to the Rockets a decent team. We can do this. Let us see how. Colton is the first hitter of the inning. He’s pretty fast for a catcher. He bunts. The creamer catcher was so surprised that our catcher was bunting, he couldn’t field it cleanly and Colton has himself a single. Way to get the leadoff man on. Now Payton’s up. Payton can’t really hit. However, he is able to work the count. The noise is so loud; I can barely hear Omar shouting in my ear. Payton hits a shallow pop up, but it’s right over the second baseman’s head. Payton's hustling is just able to beat the throw to second! Meanwhile, Colton scores, and it’s a one-run game. Sam's up now. He has a little pop to his bat.
A fly ball...”Get out! Git out! Git!” our whole team is yelling. But it falls just short of that 250-foot fence. Payton scores, though, and it is a tie ball game! Ryan's up. The pitcher bears down. Three straight strikes, one out. Now Frankie bats while I go on deck. The pitcher doesn’t want to walk him to get to me, so he throws strikes, but all Frankie can do is ground out to short. I AM UP. Whew, I love pressure. Two outs, winning run on second. You know how in movies, at a climactic scene, the whole thing slows down, and they play the heart beating: bum-bum, bum-bum. Well, it would be like that. I get a fastball right down the middle, and I swing, and I hit far. Farther than that fat guy who hit that 300- foot home run. Game Over.


Practice as usual. Is tiring, hitting drills, players field, etc. I’m not saying Coach is dumb, but what other than tough practices let us win? We wanted to win. We wanted to prove something. 1-2 isn’t all that bad, right? Anyway, I’m not expecting to win the next game if Coach doesn’t crack down soon. I’m not saying every practice, but a few would be good... right?
We’re 24-2, baby. 15 straight freaking wins to end our season. We partied all night last night, ‘because we are in the finals! For the first time ever, we won more than one game in a season. But we better bear down, because we’re playing those Huskies again.
After losing to them 5-3, we beat them 1-0 to get us into the finals. Those Huskies are 23-3, and boy are they are going to be mad.
Bottom of the third, one out, men on first and third. We are up by one. How that got to be, I can’t explain. Payton, our starter, is on the mound. A run here and this game is tied. Three possibilities: strike out, short pop fly, or a double play. Payton is down in the count 3-1. The pitch. Oh my gosh, it’s a shot right to my left. Everybody is yelling. Game about to be tied. I dive. I feel the ball hit glove. I scramble to my feet. I touch second. I jump over the sliding runner. I throw the ball to first. The ball hits glove. Pop! The runner hits the base. Thump. The umpire... puts his fist in the air, THANK GOODNESS, A DOUBLE PLAY!
Bottom of the sixth, two outs, runner on second. The Huskies leadoff hitter up. Base hit ties the game; anything else and we win. Joey is still on the mound. I would be drastically underplaying if I said the game was on the line. Everything is. The season, our hearts, everything. The 1-2 pitch. Curveball. Low and in. Perfect spot. The swing. The ball hits the bat. Oh, but it’s out of play, foul ball. The 1-2 pitch again. Fastball. High. Gets him chasing. HE DID. WE WIN. GAME. OVER. “Yes! Yes!” We all jump on each other. It’s a dog pile. I can’t believe it. WE WON! WE ARE CHAMPIONS!!