“Welcome back to the first game of the season. We have here tonight the Hickory Crawdads facing the South Spartans. Mikayla Hill is up to bat for Hickory as we enter the ninth. Let's check in.” “ Go battabatta, go battabatta, swing,” the man behind my enemy said aloud. I could already see both men getting into their stances. The batter rising, back straightening, almost cutting through me with his eyes as he waited for the ball. The catcher sinking down, ready to catch the ball as it would pass my opponent. I almost threw out my shoulder as I extended my arm, releasing the ball with the motion. “Strike one,” a voice rang through the air. This voice was deep, loud, unexpected. It was as if God himself was speaking to me. The striped object
