As you walk towards the mound, I get up from the bleachers and move away from the rest of the crowd. I can't be with other people when you're out there. I lean against the fence, grasp my hands and clench my jaw. I can feel the stress in my shoulders. My fingernails dig into my palms. I hardly breathe.
I watch you, while sending you good vibes and cheering. "You can do it bud! Throw it hard." I try to sound relaxed. I don't want you to hear my nervousness in my voice. When I can't take the stress any longer, I watch the umpire behind home plate. it is music to my ears when he calls out "STRIKE".
I go between watching you, the umpire and the score board. Full count. Two outs. YOU CAN DO IT.
You did it.
4 comments:
You totally put to words what I feel EVERY single time Brennan pitches. It is gut wrenching!!!
Boy can you write: I felt like I was watching Brock pitch.
It's agony; pure agony. I used to pace behind the bleachers, sneaking a peak at each pitch Peter through. Soem day you will laugh about it, but in the meantime....
Make that "threw" and "some day"
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