Dynamic Woman — Changing Times
Fly Bys Over Home Plate
Saturday afternoon the doves do formation fly bys over home plate where weekdays trainees in F-16 fighters from Luke Air Force Base streak overhead. Cr-acckk! Home run! The Diamondbacks tie it up with the Royals, 10 – 10 at the top of the eighth.
Hubs has had his hot dog. I’ve had my Italian sausage—peppers, no bun. A breeze blows in off the desert and I am relaxed in a way that seldom happens. Three and a half hours stretch out like the pause in the seventh inning, on a weekend when Monday morning isn’t the groaner it used to be.
Now it’s the bottom of the ninth and the game is still tied. We know the score; 3 balls, 2 strikes, 2 outs. All eyes are on the pitcher. He knows what is going to happen. We know what is going to happen.
A wily player with propeller blade legs has stolen his way clear to third base. He’s like the spider darting around on your bedroom ceiling. You know as soon as you take your eyes off him, he’ll bite you.
The pitcher has divided his attention between the threat behind him and challenge in front of him. He’s been hooted for the number of times he swiveled and threw the ball to first instead of over the plate, trying to stomp the threat before it skitters to second. He has done well to deliver two strikes, but his luck has run out. One last crack of the bat and it’s an RBI for the Royals!
© Sydney Avey