He's doing much better today.
I flashed back to a time in Little League when I started a game with similar results. I was 9 years old and couldn't control my pitches. When I did get them across they were smashed all over the ballpark. I couldn't get the third out in the first inning for the life of me.
I started crying. I can remember it like it happened yesterday. Awful. Finally, the coach came out to the mound and pulled me.
I never pitched in Little League again. I was too scarred, traumatized.
I closed a varsity game when I was a freshman in high school, however. I can't forget that one either because of two things that happened.
After giving up a hit to the lead-off hitter in the seventh, I neglected to pitch out of the stretch to the next hitter. Fortunately the runner didn't pick up on it and steal second. My coach came flying off the bench and chewed me out at the mound.
The hitter grounded into a double play and so I stood there one out away from my first (and only) high school career save.
I struck the third batter out with a fastball down (heh) the middle of the plate, and suddenly everybody was congratulating me, which more or less confused me.
You see, what I hadn't realized throughout the ordeal was that I was pitching in the seventh (high school games are just seven innings, or they used to be). I had no idea. I'd lost track of the proceedings and had been quite shocked to even get into the game.
I never pitched in a game again, but I may have been the luckiest relief pitcher in history.
TS
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