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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.
  教练的这三个字给我留下了深刻印象,让我终生难忘。我把那三个字仔细掂量了一分钟。“准备?”我琢磨着。作为替补投手,我体重才100磅(译注:约45.4 kg),还长着一个不堪一击的鼻子,一只蝴蝶落在上面就可能让它粉碎。场上只有我一人双手发抖,大脑乱作一团。我们队的投手刚刚才血溅赛场,而我却是下一位即将上场的投手。替她上场并不是一件特别难想到的事儿,我却两眼噙着泪花,呼吸变得急促起来,心也怦怦直跳。这场比赛是本赛季最大型的比赛之一,我却要在比赛中向两倍于我身材的恶魔们投球,而正是她们刚刚放倒了我的一位队友。我脑海中迅速闪现出在接下来的八局比赛中可能会出现的情形,每种情形都离不开我死在地上的样子。

队伍在一个扇形球场进行“击球—跑位”形式的对抗。棒球球队分为攻、守两方,两方各攻、守一次为一局,正式比赛为九局。比赛开始时,守方投手(pitcher)站在投球区土墩(mound)上将球掷出,攻方击球手(batter)在击球区(batter's box)用球棒(bat)将守方投手投来的球击出,随后依次踏过一垒(first base)、二垒(second base)和三垒(third base)并安全回到本垒(home base)后得一分;若守方捕手(catcher)利用手套将投手掷出的球接住或掷回,那么攻方击球手将出局;若守方其他队员在球落地之前将球接住,那么跑垒员(即击球手)将被“接杀”;若守方投手对击球者投出三个“好”球,那么跑垒员将被“三振出局”。当攻方有三人被“杀”出局时,双方即互换攻守,如此轮流交替进行九局,九局中得分较高的一队胜出。
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  •  更新时间:2013-04-07 16:34:53  作者:佚名 [标签: 莫索尼定 溴莫尼定 武林 球王 ]
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