Everyone is on their feet as Bob Sheppard announces your name. With your team two down, two on, and two out, you are everyone’s last hope.

You step into the box, dig in, and find your zone. You glare at the pitcher. Their closer. Their best against you. He stares past you, at his catcher. He winds up and deals.

It’s a fastball down the middle, but you take it for strike one. You know it’s the best pitch you’ll see, but you had to see what he had.

You see the short porch in right, so tantilizingly close. Too bad this guy’s not pitching you that way.

The next pitch misses inside and evens the count.

The next one misses even more and everyone boos as you duck out of the way.

Another fastball, and you just get a piece of it. A foul ball.

The next pitch is in the dirt and the count is full.

You step out to look inside yourself. There will be joy in Mudville. You step back in.

The runners go as the pitcher starts his windup. The ball spins toward you. You step into it and swing…