Swing, Batter, Batter, Swing!
Putting my weight on my right foot, the foot closest to the catcher. Leaning back re-gripping my bat. I watched as that black haired pitcher powered up her pitch, rocking back and forth on her heals, taking in her glove, glovu now to her side and starting the wind-up. 'This is it,' I thought to myself, now taking the best grip on my bat, 2 balls and 2 strikes have passed kwa this plate and I am not letting this pitcher strike me out, au walk me! I got ready the ball was realeased, and I heard the 'ump' say "Ball Outside".
I stepped out of the batters box, and took a couple swings. I HAD to hit this one, I just had to. As the pitcher retrieved the ball she took a couple wrist snap's into her glove, also having a goal, one that would block mine. I stepped into the batters box, filling the holes in made kwa other players feet who have batted before me. I lined up my bat with the plate making sure if that ball went right down the middle that my bat would be determind to hit that ball right to the outfield. As I had a stare-down with the pitcher, now in my stance to hit, I thought to my self, 'Swing early, but not too early, I hate the ball, I want to kill it and send it straight to the outfield. Concentrate. Keep your eyes on the ball."
The Pressure was on me. I was sweating like crazy on the inside of my helmet. It was the bottom of the 8th inning, the bases were loaded, and there's 2 outs. The games score was 11-15, I could get us to 12 runs if I hit a single, 13 runs, if a double, 14 runs if its a triple, and 15 runs if I get a grandslam. I could tie the entire game up.I can't bunt, unless, nope Tina is not a fast runner and she is on 3rd. I have one zaidi chance to hit that ball straight to left field, not right to the outfielder though, over there head. If I hit a grounder to 1st au 2nd chances are we lose. If I hit it to the outfield, the game could continue au we could lose. My mind was thinking as fast as a super computer.
The wind-up began, I tigtened my grip but moved my hands up on the bat. The ball came as if it were in slow motion, I could tell it would be right were I wanted it, were the ball and the meat of my bat would meet. Where the ball would somehow just bounce off my bat, just like that. As the ball was half way between the pitchers mound, and me, I started my swing the one that would send this ball to the outfield. As the ball was just crossing nyumbani plate, my bat was there to meet it, sort of like two intersecting roads, that kuvuka, msalaba eachothers paths. I heard the metal smaking onto the softball (not to mention that isn't actually to soft.) I quickly dropped my bat, running down the first baseline, hearing the crowd cheering in responce.
This was a good sign.
CHAPTER 1.
Sittting in the back kiti, kiti cha of my Mom's blue mini van, palms sweating, I twisted my blonde hair around as she was driving me to softball try outs. 'What if I don't make it?' I thought. The night before I was almost positive I would be able to make this softball team, but now, I wasn't quite sure. Trying out for a softball leaugue an saa away from where I live was a little much, but since are school sports were cut, I'll do whatever to be able to still play softball. We wer nearing the facility where I was goin to try out at. Butterflys flew around in my stomach tickling the insides of me.
Putting my weight on my right foot, the foot closest to the catcher. Leaning back re-gripping my bat. I watched as that black haired pitcher powered up her pitch, rocking back and forth on her heals, taking in her glove, glovu now to her side and starting the wind-up. 'This is it,' I thought to myself, now taking the best grip on my bat, 2 balls and 2 strikes have passed kwa this plate and I am not letting this pitcher strike me out, au walk me! I got ready the ball was realeased, and I heard the 'ump' say "Ball Outside".
I stepped out of the batters box, and took a couple swings. I HAD to hit this one, I just had to. As the pitcher retrieved the ball she took a couple wrist snap's into her glove, also having a goal, one that would block mine. I stepped into the batters box, filling the holes in made kwa other players feet who have batted before me. I lined up my bat with the plate making sure if that ball went right down the middle that my bat would be determind to hit that ball right to the outfield. As I had a stare-down with the pitcher, now in my stance to hit, I thought to my self, 'Swing early, but not too early, I hate the ball, I want to kill it and send it straight to the outfield. Concentrate. Keep your eyes on the ball."
The Pressure was on me. I was sweating like crazy on the inside of my helmet. It was the bottom of the 8th inning, the bases were loaded, and there's 2 outs. The games score was 11-15, I could get us to 12 runs if I hit a single, 13 runs, if a double, 14 runs if its a triple, and 15 runs if I get a grandslam. I could tie the entire game up.I can't bunt, unless, nope Tina is not a fast runner and she is on 3rd. I have one zaidi chance to hit that ball straight to left field, not right to the outfielder though, over there head. If I hit a grounder to 1st au 2nd chances are we lose. If I hit it to the outfield, the game could continue au we could lose. My mind was thinking as fast as a super computer.
The wind-up began, I tigtened my grip but moved my hands up on the bat. The ball came as if it were in slow motion, I could tell it would be right were I wanted it, were the ball and the meat of my bat would meet. Where the ball would somehow just bounce off my bat, just like that. As the ball was half way between the pitchers mound, and me, I started my swing the one that would send this ball to the outfield. As the ball was just crossing nyumbani plate, my bat was there to meet it, sort of like two intersecting roads, that kuvuka, msalaba eachothers paths. I heard the metal smaking onto the softball (not to mention that isn't actually to soft.) I quickly dropped my bat, running down the first baseline, hearing the crowd cheering in responce.
This was a good sign.
CHAPTER 1.
Sittting in the back kiti, kiti cha of my Mom's blue mini van, palms sweating, I twisted my blonde hair around as she was driving me to softball try outs. 'What if I don't make it?' I thought. The night before I was almost positive I would be able to make this softball team, but now, I wasn't quite sure. Trying out for a softball leaugue an saa away from where I live was a little much, but since are school sports were cut, I'll do whatever to be able to still play softball. We wer nearing the facility where I was goin to try out at. Butterflys flew around in my stomach tickling the insides of me.
((Just so wewe all know, this is only a small part of the whole chapter. I'm particularly proud of this bit, as you'll soon see. Keep watch for an exclusive interview between The Fanfic's own Rita Skeeter and yours truly!))
Harry looked down at the long orodha of Quidditch hopefuls. "Hailey, I don't see your name on here. I thought you'd sign up."
Hailey looked up from her eggs, smiling. "I'd rather leave Quidditch and rule-breaking to you. That IS what you're best at, after all," she alisema simply.
Harry only rolled his eyes. She could tell he hoped she had some of Dad's Quidditch talent, but she wasn't eager to prove it. After all, her family had enough publicity as it was.
((Now, this is only a teeny bit of the chapter. The real thing'll be a lot longer. But you'll have to wait quite a while for it.))
Harry looked down at the long orodha of Quidditch hopefuls. "Hailey, I don't see your name on here. I thought you'd sign up."
Hailey looked up from her eggs, smiling. "I'd rather leave Quidditch and rule-breaking to you. That IS what you're best at, after all," she alisema simply.
Harry only rolled his eyes. She could tell he hoped she had some of Dad's Quidditch talent, but she wasn't eager to prove it. After all, her family had enough publicity as it was.
((Now, this is only a teeny bit of the chapter. The real thing'll be a lot longer. But you'll have to wait quite a while for it.))