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  blood streamed down the cloth of her immaculate2) jersey3) and onto the sandy dirt. it flowed from her face like relentless4) tears. she lay prostrate5), vulnerable, painfully helpless. then the ambulance came and rolled her away. a man raked6) the circle of blood off the field.
   some people say hardball is not a sport. some believe girls aren't tough enough. valley high school varsity7) player christy connor would beg to differ8). her weapon was her bat. her drive was her need for victory. her power? well, that was just her broad shoulders, long legs, and strong body. christy connor was an athlete. she was tough enough to take our pundit high varsity pitcher9) out for the season.
   christy stepped inside the lines of the white rectangle of doom. she readied her bat and cocked10) it between her shoulders, with her hands in close proximity to11) her ears. our pitcher signaled her pitch to the catcher. the catcher nodded and the pitch was released. smash. this was the sound of the ball off the bat, making its way to our pitcher's nose. crack. this was the sound of her nose breaking, flattening across her face. thud12). this was the sound of her body hitting the ground, in the time span of only three seconds. then only silence was heard. the crowd stood, mouths open and eyes bulged13). hearts fell to the floor and hands covered heads in distress. the pundit team gathered together and turned away from the mound14). our fallen soldier screamed.
   "go warm up," the coach said to me.
  these three words made an impression on me that i would never forget. i processed them for a minute. "warm up?" i thought. i was the second pitcher in line, weighing in at only one hundred pounds, equipped with a nose that could be shattered by a landing butterfly. i was the only one there with trembling hands and a mortified15) mind. the pitcher's blood had just been spewed16) across the infield17). i was the next pitcher. it wasn't exactly a difficult connection to make. my eyes watered, my breath quickened, my heart hammered. i was about to pitch against monsters twice my size in one of the biggest games of the season. these were the same monsters that had just taken down one of us. my mind raced with scenarios of how the remaining eight innings18) of the game could go. each scenario revolved around me, dead on the floor.
   these thoughts lasted only ten minutes. our pitcher, still screaming, was carted away. i pulled back my hair, took a deep breath, and then hesitantly stepped on the mound as the game restarted. the crowd may have been in shock as our pitcher was carried out, but they were in disbelief when they realized we were about to continue. my mother's fright19) worsened as she saw me, a little freshman, step into the circle.

 "you can do it," my dad mouthed.
  my mom looked at me with pride and held up her hands in a boxing stance20) position.
   "fight," she said.
  i kn

ew what she meant. it was my chance to prove that even christy connor wasn't tougher than me, nor the other eight valley players of great height and power. i quickly closed the inning without letting them score. i took a deep breath, thankful i hadn't died yet. every time a new monster entered the batter's box, they looked at their coach with a cocky21) smirk22) and laughed at the fact that they had already defeated our team. they couldn't defeat me.
   well, technically, they could—and did. they won nine to zero. but that wasn't what mattered that day. they never did defeat me internally.some people say girls can't play sports, or they aren't tough enough. i was tough enough to pitch the rest of the game, scared out of my mind but persistent. the outcome was irrelevant. what mattered was persistence.
   sports are significant in the moment, like anything else in life. however, lasting significance comes from the lessons you learn. i wasn't meant to pitch amazingly that day; i was meant to learn a lesson about myself. nothing could come my way, be it a monster or a mouse, which i could not confront. i could not go through life afraid to take on the impossible. i could not be afraid to take a risk—because it would always be in the trying that i could achieve success.
  教練的這三個字給我留下了深刻印象,讓我終生難忘。我把那三個字仔細掂量了一分鐘。“準備?”我琢磨著。作為替補投手,我體重才100磅(譯注:約45.4 kg),還長著一個不堪一擊的鼻子,一只蝴蝶落在上面就可能讓它粉碎。場上只有我一人雙手發抖,大腦亂作一團。我們隊的投手剛剛才血濺賽場,而我卻是下一位即將上場的投手。替她上場并不是一件特別難想到的事兒,我卻兩眼噙著淚花,呼吸變得急促起來,心也怦怦直跳。這場比賽是本賽季最大型的比賽之一,我卻要在比賽中向兩倍于我身材的惡魔們投球,而正是她們剛剛放倒了我的一位隊友。我腦海中迅速閃現出在接下來的八局比賽中可能會出現的情形,每種情形都離不開我死在地上的樣子。

隊伍在一個扇形球場進行“擊球—跑位”形式的對抗。棒球球隊分為攻、守兩方,兩方各攻、守一次為一局,正式比賽為九局。比賽開始時,守方投手(pitcher)站在投球區土墩(mound)上將球擲出,攻方擊球手(batter)在擊球區(batter's box)用球棒(bat)將守方投手投來的球擊出,隨后依次踏過一壘(first base)、二壘(second base)和三壘(third base)并安全回到本壘(home base)后得一分;若守方捕手(catcher)利用手套將投手擲出的球接住或擲回,那么攻方擊球手將出局;若守方其他隊員在球落地之前將球接住,那么跑壘員(即擊球手)將被“接殺”;若守方投手對擊球者投出三個“好”球,那么跑壘員將被“三振出局”。當攻方有三人被“殺”出局時,雙方即互換攻守,如此輪流交替進行九局,九局中得分較高的一隊勝出。
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  •  更新時間:2013-04-07 16:34:53  作者:佚名 [標簽: 莫索尼定 溴莫尼定 武林 球王 ]
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