I saw an NBA game the other day where they ran one of those random player bios. It featured Kirk Hinrich and he was talking about his NBA dream and his Mom. (I’ll wait for the Awwww……………to subside).
He said his Mom recently found a paper he wrote when he was a kid. Kind of a time capsule deal. On that paper written in his little kid handwriting was a statement that when he grew up he wanted to play Point Guard for the Chicago Bulls.
My story is not of this variety, so relax.
We at The Sports Frappe are big proponents of living the dream……………the Sports Dream.
BiCoastal shared his dream (go down to next to last paragraph) a while back, and now it’s time for ole Intrinsic to let you in on how my pitching career ended.
It’s a playoff game and they call on me to start game one. I’m as excited as a little girl and all of a sudden I’m standing on the mound in the big game. It’s the top of the first and I look around the field and the stands and soak up all that hardball goodness.
I’m shocked to find the MLB now uses a new ball that is made out of memory foam and I squeeze it into the size of a ping pong ball and pitch.
It’s a floater that the batter (unknown of course because this dream is about me) sends out of the yard.
Then I realize that my back has gone out. It’s so bad that in the middle of the second pitch I have to stop, before I go ahead and toss it up there anyway. It doesn’t make it to the plate, but that doesn’t matter anyway because of course it was a balk.
Then I flash forward to heading to the dugout with teammates consoling me with comments like “It’s only 4 runs, it could have been worse.”
Next, I’m on the mound at the top of the second and the ball is back to normal.
And then as dreams go…………it’s over.
I don’t know what I had to eat that night, but assume it was a lot.
I’m taking it as a sign from my subconscious that my dream of pitching in the bigs is now officially dead. It’s a shame.
At least I can still pitch in that church slow pitch league.
I toss a wicked 12’ arc.