Matt had saved the day. Moose Macafee would come in next inning for Chip, who’d pitched a tough seven innings against the Boston team. The bottom of the seventh saw Matt coming to bat. The score was tied at four all.
He took some practice swings to loosen his muscles and steady his nerves. The Boston pitcher was tough. The Nighthawks had scored on a walk, two singles, and a grand slam by Nat Owen. His first all season. The rest of the time, the Bluejay had managed to befuddle the ’Hawks with his slider and his change-up.
Energy flowed through Matt’s veins. He could run the bases backwards and beat out any throw. Adrenaline pumped into him as he took his stance. His eyes focused, examining the pitcher. The fucker must be tired by now. He took the first pitch, which was called a ball.
The
