The Smell Of Dirt: Short Story

The Smell of Dirt

I kicked the dirt again, I could barely breath as the dust filled my lungs, the sweat dripped down my face mixed with the dust making my skin crawl with itchiness. I could hear my kids screaming at me from the stand. I looked back and saw my girls jumping up and down, I saw my oldest son holding his hands in prayer with his eyes looking above, my other boys looked as nervous as I felt. For a brief moment, my eyes connected with Mitch's. They were as wide as a deers caught in a speeding cars headlights. I realized then that not only was this hit for me, it was everything to them. The sounds became distant, with the exception of my heartbeat. I could hear it as if it were a large drum, thump, thump, thump. I slowly turned around and looked down as home plate. It was dirty, I resisted wiping the dirt again just to give me another minute before my dooming sure failure.

For just a moment my mind raced, why was I here? This was not my spot on a field, I was a coach, it was my job to show them how to play. It was my job to whisper silent prayers, jump up and down, …show more content…
I was just the third out for him, it was his job to make the ball scream past me into the catchers glove. He licked his fingers and rubbed the ball. Could he taste the dirt that was making it hard for me to breath? He raised his arm, it was time. I lifted my bat and had no time to pray as it flew past me, the perfect pitch I realized as the umpired yelled, "strike one." The noises came back, the screaming of my teammates, "next one is yours", the opposing team, "two more, we win" and the voice of reason was a little girl with a larger than life voice, "mom, move your standing wrong." I was being coached by the little girl who I taught to hit a ball? As my eyes went back to the field, I laughed as I realized I did not bat right handed. As I stepped across home plate, I smiled at my girl standing closer to the