Homerun

         He was wearing food from the concession stands. Ketchup from an earlier hotdog could be seen in the corner of his mouth.

Cheese from nachos streaked across the team logo of his red T-shirt. He was adding the ice cream from a cone that was melting.

Chocolate vanilla swirl was rolling slowly down his forearm and dripping pearl-like drops onto the swoosh trademark of his black shorts.

          He sat slouched down in his seat, apathetic to his surroundings, allowing the ice cream to drip. The adjustable strap on his baseball

cap was pulled to the last notch. Still, the oversized cap with the bill pulled down low over his forehead completely covered his face, except his

mouth. There was a slight indentation in the right corner which hinted at a possible dimple. This served as a reservoir for the ketchup. Did he

have jumbo ears or was it the cap causing his ears to stick out from his head?

          Having given up on the cone and a pathetic attempt at wiping the sticky drips on his arm, he became consumed in the magic of Velcro

on the strap of his shoe. Press down ,pull up. Press down, pull up. Press down, pull up. After exhausting the Velcro intrique he started to

methodically chew a plastic straw into strips. This was quite an undertaking considering his teeth were at different stages of development and

left some gaping spaces. After two complete innings, the straw sort of resembled a dart, yet clearly a work of art. It was then aimed and

launched. While it was expected to jet propel its way to the 1st base umpire, it flittered instead on to the lap of the startled lady sitting in front

of him.

          He sat back, trying to look innocent as the lady looked over one shoulder, and then the other. It was time to kick back and relax.

He sat with his legs stretched out in front of him and both arms on the arm rests with his head thrown back against the seat. After a while,

he was oblivious that the scoreless game had moved into the bottom of the 8th inning, and the home team was at bat. Perhaps, he was

asleep. He sat up with a nudge from his Dad.

         "Andrew, he's at bat."

          Andrew stood with the momentum of the crowd. It was as if an electric charge had gone through him. There was a breathless

anticipation with each pitch. Then on the third pitch, with a cracking sound of contact, the ball shot outward and upward. It seemed to soar

as if it was being pushed along by the energy of the crowd .Andrew yells along with thousands of others, "Seeee-youuu-laaater!" The ball

was hit into the upper deck! Jumping up and down and flashing a jagged tooth smile..Andrew punches the air with clinched fists. He looks at

his Dad and exclaims, "this is the best game ever!"