Bearing down with my eyes, like a hunter

examining my prey, there is nothing

between me and fame except one more out.

That is all I need to become a star

and go down in history as the one

who broke the curse of Bambino. And this

moment is for all the years spent waiting,

for the fans who never gave up and the

ones who died without seeing redemption;

for all the close calls and heartbreak, the phrase

‘wait til next year’ people chorus season

after season. Until now. But I stand

on glory’s perch, unable to move.

indecisiveness grips me. I look to

my manager for guidance or a sign,

for I  have no idea what to use

on this batter. If I were to mess up…

No! I can not think about that now.

Not when I am about to make history-

either way. The manager conveys his

sign to the catcher discretely who

then tells me. Time has slown down like someone

has forgotten to wind the clock again

My arm is starting to get cold once more,

I am not used to pitching in the cold

October late night. Before I wind up

I try to breathe some life into my numb

fingers, hoping that they’ll see me through this

last out. The ball sits in my glove, waiting

patiently for its role in history.

My fingers hone in on my glove and shift

descretly around the ball so that two

of them cover the red seams completely.

I can not delay any longer so

though I am shaking inside, my arm and

leg curl up as high as they go. I know

people have been waiting for this so long

I can not deliver yet another

year of disappointment to the fans. I

throw with all my strength and heart poured into

the ball. It feels hot in my hand as it

slips from my fingers, like it would sprout flame.

The ball hurtles roaring toward the batter

who grips his bat in determination.

He swings and makes contact with the ball and

suddenly my stomach is in my throat.

But there must be someone looking out for

me as I see it bounce into the ground

before me; I pounce on it right away

like the ball was my prey and my body

takes over, my arm winds up and launches

it to the first baseman. My eyes have closed

and the next thing I know, my teammates are

on top of me, making me deaf with shouts

of joy and rapture. Eighty six years are

erased with a single out. We did it.