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Turning Over A New Leaf (687 hits)

Category: Quotes & Stories

Rating: -0.8 on 8 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Labels:

Submitted by HFCS (View user info) at 2005-10-05 23:57:35 EDT


Wham! And with that he turned gently, letting the ebony charcoal bat roll from his fingers, and sprinted. The cool summer breeze whistled through his ears as the sun beat down on the sandlot. The ball screamed off into a far corner of the town, and the players standing with gloves let out a chorus of moans, yet a slight smile trickled onto their parched lips. He'd done it again.

He slid into first and stood up. A smart little cloud of dust arose just around him as he stood. The dust curled around, hugging his legs as it swirled and twirled in a magnificent fashion. He slowly bent over and patted the soft dirt off his jeans. Slowly raising his head, he turned his cap backwards and grinned.

"Hit me home, Sparklers!" he would always say. Poor Jimmy Sparkers, as white as fresh milk would scuttle up to the plate, barely able to lift the bat that had just belted a beast into orbit. He would pitch his glasses up high on his tiny little nose and his white hair would barely poke out from beneath the bike helmet his mother made him wear.

Elvis, as they all called him, would take a big wind up and gently brush one across the plate. It looked like potatoes and warm gravy to the rest of them, but to poor Sparkers it looked like a bottle of tequila. He'd swing heavy and hard too high and too late, and instantly the lot would erupt in a chorus of "Oh man, thought ya haddit there" and "keep your eye" and he'd wrinkle a shy, little smile and tip his silver bike helmet back. He'd tap the plate and then his sneakers. He'd take another chew of his bubble gum and spit over his left shoulder. He'd take two easy, smooth, yet gut-wrenchingly painful, practice swings. He was a pro at heart.

Elvis caught the ball and looked over at his amigo on first. The two eyed on another up, in a ritualistic poker match: who was bluffing and who was ready to call. Elvis squeezed the tight stitching as his friend on first inched away from the bag. And as soon as Elvis turned his head, as soon as he wound up, the very second the ball left his outstretched brown fingertips, little Sparkers and the amigo were off to the races. Poor Sparkers clumsy stride, were juxtaposed with Jackson's graceful gallop as the confusion spread among the infield.

Wells had caught the ball, after it nearly missed Sparkers little head as he had crossed home on his way to first. At this point, however is where Wells and the rest of the infield got confused. Sparkers was the east out, but Jackson was the one they all wanted. What resulted was a comical display of Wells tossing the ball and responsibility to Elvis, who in turn cursed the pudgy bastard for leaving this to him. As he turned, his brilliance got the best of him and he threw to poor Les at third, in the event Jackson got greedy. As Jackson slid into second, the ball whizzed by Les, as he was just as surprised as Wells and the rest of the defense that the ball had ended up there. Jackson took a quick glance and licked his lips and set off for third.

Les dashed to the rolling ball, picked it up, and upon seeing Sparkers was a good thirty feet from first still, heaved one towards the heavens in an attempt to salvage the wreckage. Jackson turned in disbelief at Les' play, and began to trot home.

However, Jackson did not see that what was really thrown was a small, fist-sized white rock, and immediately Les threw home into Wells' soft catcher's mitt. As Jackson stood, stunned at home, Sparker lay unconscious from a very well, and unsuspecting throw from third.

It didn't matter, a double play was a double play at the sandlot.

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User Reviews


Submitted by HighFructoseCornSyrup (user info) at 2005-10-07 01:22:18 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

The poor response to this sincere attempt at writing will only drive me back to my old ways.

Submitted by Unabonger (user info) at 2005-10-07 00:26:52 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2

I thought you mentioned something about quality posts in the future?

when does this happen? I'll set my alarm watch.

Submitted by HighFructoseCornSyrup (user info) at 2005-10-07 00:11:50 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

Hahahahaha

Goddamn that guy is a paranoid freak.

Submitted by HadToBeDone (user info) at 2005-10-06 21:30:05 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

Submitted by Stabkill (user info) at 2005-10-06 19:53:34 (#)
Ranking: -2

Don't hide behind an alter. You and "highfructosecornsyrup" seem to have the same people you dislike... oddly enough, highfructose has never ranked one of your posts and vice versa... Coincidence? I don't think so.

And, if for some reason...you aren't highfructose...it doesn't matter. As long as I get any response on any of my posts, whether it is a +2 or a -2, I will respond over here with a nice shiny -2.
----------
Apparently you're me. So leave him alone, alright?

Submitted by Stabkill (user info) at 2005-10-06 19:35:54 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2

Alter.

Submitted by ozzy (user info) at 2005-10-06 06:54:06 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

This was kind of a tough read. It seemed to be forced- it didn't flow so well.

I recommend when you write something, that you save it and come back a week later and read it again. Seems to help in ironing things out, as you pick up errors or flaws that you won't see having just written it.

Submitted by joedaddy (user info) at 2005-10-06 03:13:41 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

I had trouble following; who was who and where?

The most confusing items were; the hit to the far corner of the town, "He did it again", and
yet he's only on first base?!
I assume, as I found out later, that it was Jackson.

It would have been a really good story if the characters had been developed and more clearly
defined at the beginning of the story. (just an opinion from a nobody)

It did have an excellent description of site and action physicality.

Submitted by HighFructoseCornSyrup (user info) at 2005-10-06 02:19:40 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

No reviews, eh?

That's what I get for posting something serious.


Donuts. Is there anything they can't do?

-- Homer Simpson
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