Okay, so, picture this: It’s the local rec league softball championship. We’re the underdogs, “The Misfits,” playing against “The Crushers,” a team that’s, well, crushed everyone all season. They had matching uniforms, fancy bats, the whole nine yards. We, on the other hand, had, like, three different shades of blue t-shirts and a bat that was probably older than half the team.
The game started, and, predictably, The Crushers were living up to their name. By the third inning, we were down by, like, five runs. I swear, I almost started packing up my gear right then and there. Our pitcher, bless her heart, was having a rough day, and their star hitter, some guy named “Tank,” kept blasting balls into the next county.
The Turning Point
Then, something weird happened. Top of the fourth, two outs, bases loaded. Their pitcher, who’d been throwing pure fire all day, suddenly lost his control. He walked two batters in a row. Then, he hit our smallest player, little Timmy, square in the back. (Timmy’s fine, by the way, he even got a free ice cream out of it.)
Suddenly, we were only down by two. And up to bat comes… me. Now, I’m not exactly known for my hitting prowess. I’m more of a “get on base by sheer luck” kind of guy. But, for some reason, I felt… different. Maybe it was the desperation, maybe it was the two energy drinks I chugged between innings, who knows.
First pitch: Strike! A fastball, right down the middle. I swung so hard I almost fell over.
Second pitch: Ball! Way outside.
The count is now to one ball and one strike.
Third pitch: Another Ball.
Ok, I thought to myself, the pitcher doesn’t want to let the game tie. I have to be extra careful.
Fourth pitch: A curveball! I saw it spinning, and something just clicked. I swung, connected, and… holy moly. The ball sailed over the left fielder’s head, bounced once, and rolled all the way to the fence.
- Runners started sprinting.
- The crowd (mostly our friends and family) went wild.
- I was rounding second base, wondering if I was going to get thrown out at third.
I slid into third, safe! A bases-clearing triple! We were up by one!
We managed to hold on to that lead for the rest of the game, thanks to some surprisingly good defense and our pitcher finding her groove again. The Crushers were stunned. We were… well, we were even more stunned.
We celebrated with cheap pizza and even cheaper beer, but honestly, it tasted like victory. The Misfits, against all odds, had actually won. It just goes to show you, sometimes, even the biggest underdogs can have their day.
