“Caroline could feel the crowd’s anticipation. She could sense the energy pulsing through her team. Everyone knew this was it, the last batter she would have to face if she could get the out. The championship would be theirs.
The no-hitter would be hers.
She forced another deep breath as she stepped to the rubber to get her sign. Another drop ball. She repeated the motion and spin she had just thrown for a called strike one. She got the ball back, replanted her feet on the rubber, and waited for the next call.
Caroline nodded her head, agreeing to the changeup. Keep your arm speed up, she reminded herself as she worked the ball in her glove to get the grip she wanted. She flipped her wrist as she released, slowing down the pitch for a called strike two.
The fans for their team stood up in the stands, recognizing they needed just one more strike to win. Caroline took the ball to the edge of the pitching circle, looking out at the center field fence, then up to the lights shining down on the field. The last beams of light from the sunset glowed over the top of the mountains. The May breeze ruffled the end of her ponytail. She closed her eyes. You can do this. Throw a strike. It’s that easy.
Turning back, determination echoing in each step, she took to the rubber. The catcher relayed the sign to her. Screw ball, up and in.
With two strikes on the hitter, Caroline knew she needed to make this a chase pitch, something out of the strike zone that would trick the batter into swinging and missing. She pictured where she wanted it to go, and off she went.
She gave the pitch a little extra oomph, grunting as she snapped the ball. It ran in and up, going right where she wanted it. The batter swung through it, missing by several inches. Strike three. Three outs. Ballgame.
State championship.
No-hitter…”
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