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Rated: E · Non-fiction · Comedy · #868938
This is my portrayal of the first baseball game that I went to.
I was a little over ten years old when I went to my first baseball game. It was a hot day in Florida. I would say it was summer but you never can tell in south Florida, even winters can be hot. It was a minor league game. We didn't have a major league team anywhere near us at the time. The Florida Marlins didn't exist.

The game only kept my interest for a few moments then I was off to play with a few other kids that were running around. In the traditional fashion I stood idly by waiting to be noticed. It took just a few short moments before I was invited in the game. There was no need for introductions since it was customary that if someone ran your way if you started running that meant you were now in the game. I was tagged shortly after entering the game and the game continued in its usual fashion.

It wasn't long before the game changed because someone started to scale a large fence to get away then we all decided to scale the fence too. Tag was over and now it was on to climbing the fence. I made it to the top without a problem, but unlike the other kids I thought I would go over and come down the other side. I carefully lifted my leg over the sharp "X's" at the top of the fence. I paused for a moment trying to make sure I was well balanced. I lifted my other leg to swing it over when my foot slipped loose and the weight of my body sent me swinging head first towards the ground. I was grabbed and held for a moment by my shorts, which had been pierced by one of the "X's". The elastic in my shorts gave little resistance in keeping my shorts on, which slid off in a flash. I hit the ground and without even thinking I hopped to my feet standing in front of what felt like hundreds of eyes watching me in my underwear. I jumped and grabbed my shorts and with a quick tug pulled my shorts from the "X's". I heard a rip as one of the "X's" split my shorts down one side, and even though I was almost missing an entire leg I quickly slid the shorts back on.

The fence held the other leg of my shorts blowing in the breeze taunting me that it had won. I agreed and found my dad as quickly as possible. He covered me with his jacket and with tears of embarrassment in my eyes we left the ball game to his frustration. I left that day knowing two things; don’t climb over a fence with "X's" at the top and always wear clean underwear because you never know who you will be showing them to.


© Copyright 2004 Johnny Lang (johnnylang at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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