Foul Ball
Posted by Shawn Romance
“Lynn Lynn City of Sin You Never Come Out the Way You Come in.” The weekly field trip to a random minor league baseball has become a tradition between three good friends. The games are not located in the best areas but that’s what makes them more interesting. You never know what’s going to happen or whom you are going to befriend. My story begins somewhere around the 7th or 8th inning of the North Shore Spirit and the Brockton Rox Can-Am League Game.
Kiernan, a local beat writer for a crappy Lynn paper, begins to question us about the new Fraser Field. His story revolves around the changes that should be made to the stadium, and he has come up to us drunk fools thinking we're the force. I immediately remove myself from the conversation because this is the last time I am ever making this trip again. He asks up why we're heckling the players, and we respond that it’s our duty to the game. Bob and Aaron amuse the youngster with some banter about baseball and the good old Sox game occurring about a half an hour away.
The soft sound of the bat hitting the ball causes my head to look to the sky, I put my sights on a ball rising high and looking to land within my radius. Since I’m holding a beer it will have to be a one-handed catch. A local scumbag with a baseball glove on is attempting to steal my glory, however, he loses sight of it in the stadium lights. On it’s last decent my drunkenness hits in and I realize that this will be the greatest grab in history. The ball just catches my index and middle fingers and falls to the earth smacking the pavement below. I am still holding my hand in the air, raised to the heavens when I realize that a 2-year-old girl was behind me while this whole thing transpired. The sound I heard was not the sound of the pavement but this quarter pound sphere cracking this girl’s skull.
Needless to say, that the paramedics were rushed to the left field party deck and she was quickly rushed to some inner depths of the stadium. As Bob and Kiernan are finishing up their interview, Bob exclaims, “Well there’s your story right there.”
“Lynn Lynn City of Sin You Never Come Out the Way You Come in.” The weekly field trip to a random minor league baseball has become a tradition between three good friends. The games are not located in the best areas but that’s what makes them more interesting. You never know what’s going to happen or whom you are going to befriend. My story begins somewhere around the 7th or 8th inning of the North Shore Spirit and the Brockton Rox Can-Am League Game.
Kiernan, a local beat writer for a crappy Lynn paper, begins to question us about the new Fraser Field. His story revolves around the changes that should be made to the stadium, and he has come up to us drunk fools thinking we're the force. I immediately remove myself from the conversation because this is the last time I am ever making this trip again. He asks up why we're heckling the players, and we respond that it’s our duty to the game. Bob and Aaron amuse the youngster with some banter about baseball and the good old Sox game occurring about a half an hour away.
The soft sound of the bat hitting the ball causes my head to look to the sky, I put my sights on a ball rising high and looking to land within my radius. Since I’m holding a beer it will have to be a one-handed catch. A local scumbag with a baseball glove on is attempting to steal my glory, however, he loses sight of it in the stadium lights. On it’s last decent my drunkenness hits in and I realize that this will be the greatest grab in history. The ball just catches my index and middle fingers and falls to the earth smacking the pavement below. I am still holding my hand in the air, raised to the heavens when I realize that a 2-year-old girl was behind me while this whole thing transpired. The sound I heard was not the sound of the pavement but this quarter pound sphere cracking this girl’s skull.
Needless to say, that the paramedics were rushed to the left field party deck and she was quickly rushed to some inner depths of the stadium. As Bob and Kiernan are finishing up their interview, Bob exclaims, “Well there’s your story right there.”
This entry was posted by Ben Myers, on
Thursday, June 22, 2006.
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5:44 PM
it was an involuntary reaction to contractions