I was reading the news, and found this article about a major league player getting hit in the face with a fastball. Usually, such things aren't experienced by most people, but I can relate to the event.
I was little fart, when I played little league. The put me in the outfield because I couldn't run real fast, wasn't a natural player and they had to do something with me.
I remember we were playing the best team of our league. They had this badass pitcher that not only threw a mean fastball, it was out of control enough to keep you on your toes.
I was at bat, and he threw a strike. The next pitch was a ball; so was the next. I was thinking: "I'm either fixing to get really lucky, or he's going to strike me out.
He wound up, threw and the next thing I knew, a crowd was standing over me and I was laying on the ground. His last pitch caught me at the temple, and would have crushed my skull, if I hadn't been wearing a batting helmet.
After enough time passed for everyone to realize I wasn't dead, the stars cleared a little and I confirmed I could make it to first base without assistance, the game proceeded.
I don't remember anything else about that game, except how much it hurts to get hit in the head by a fastball. Such memories are best left where they started, yet there's always something that comes up that brings them around.
I was asked to pitch once and I declined. I just knew there'd be a line drive right at my face. So I requested outer field, cuz I was the best gol-danged girl on the co-ed team and could put it where I wanted it to go.
ReplyDeletegot hit in the head running to first on a grounder to short. all the first base coach said was did you touch first.
ReplyDeleteWe had a second baseman who didn't pay attention to the game, goofing off. Runner on first tried to steal second and the pitcher tried to throw him out. Caught the guy right between the eyes with a hard throw. It sounded like "POINK!" or maybe more like "CROINKK!"
ReplyDeleteThe ball almost made it back to the pitcher's mound.
The second baseman goes down like a stone. The pitcher might as well hit him with an axe. He's out cold for a bit and when he comes to he's screaming, "I can't see!" over and over. Threw him in the back of a car (no ambulance, it's Babe Ruth League not Little League) and took him to the hospital.
I'll never forget how he was goofing around. His glove was off, holding it behind his back with both hands and kind of twirling around the base like a doofus when the ball hit him. I think maybe the pitcher might have been mad at him for not paying attention and let him have it cause the throw was high. POINK!
I believe we lost the game ... but we always lost. We stunk.
This was about fifty years ago.
Gee, I'm getting old.