LISA,the story CONTINUES

OUR HOME WAS ALWAYS FILLED WITH UNICORNS,THEY ARE NOT MYTH,THEY LIVE IN HER ALWAYS

Whether you be a cow,or a Countess,it takes nine months to make a baby!
What's that got to do with the story?for now let's just say it's one of my favorite quotes from one of my favorite authors.
I'm stumped...be patient....how...where...shit,this is not going to be as easy as I thought it would be,the only way I can write this is just to let my fingers keep moving and let it out.If I appear to be rambling,forgive please.

Mat 24th 1996 is a day that I will never forget.There have been moments that I wish I had never gone to that ball game,for if I had not,I would not be experiencing the feelings I am right now,and the fucking tears would not be pouring down my cheeks...
If I hang a calendar over it,my landlord will not see the hole I just punched in his wall,lets hope He never stumbles on to this site.
Okay,I am at the first game of the new season,we are at the Victoria High-school playground,not exactly Rigly's Field,there wasn't even a "fence"the outfield ran forever.
I had not played the year before,at least not to any team in this league!(all the games from last year were between different cell blocks D BLOCK RULES!)It's around 2.00pm,and since it was a Sunday,I was still sober!( back then we didn't have Sunday openings in the bars like there is now.)
The whole purpose of this league was to have an excuse to drink on Sundays,we were all sponsored my one brewery or another,and in return for us wearing their uniforms(which we NEVER did get!)they donated a few suitcases of beer each week to every team.
I had spent the night before sitting in "my office"until closing at 2.00am then on to I believe Debbie's place for a few more hours of drinking and carousing,and it was with her that I went to the ball game.
This is a boring story....how.hum.....
All rightttyyyy theeennnn,to the good part,all the little details will be saved for the novel!!

The Ball Game Story:

There it was,bottom of the ninth,(actually it was the bottom of the sixth,that is how many innings there are in slow pitch,it'd just more dramatic this way!) Two out,we were down by two,one man on First,I am up,what's do you think happened? humm.

I am but a shell of what I was only ten years ago,in my day I was considered quite the Jock,hockey,football,soft and hard ball,martial arts,I excelled at them all.There were those who compared me to a Greek God,those same now say I look like a God Damn Greek!(please no PC cards and letters.it's HUMOUR! live with it.)A hush falls over the crowd,I approach the batters box,confident in what I had to do.

I knew,before the ball even left the pitchers hand,exactly what was going to happen,I had been visualizing it all afternoon.Here was my chance to play Hero again,something my insecure nature feed upon.

The swing! CRACK!

you could hear the power behind the contact,you knew that ball was GONE!

Due to the field layout there was no such thing as an "automatic" homerun,you had to RUN.Running was never my strong point,I was '"to cool"The man on first was rounding second by the time I started my "amble" around the plates.The crowd is screaming at me to RUN! there was an excellent chance I could tie the game,if I would only damn well RUN!

I was approaching second base,and the out fielder was just picking up the ball,there was no way one man could throw me out,it would have to be relayed by the second baseman.The second baseman was standing tippy-toed on the bag,looking to the outfield,arms stretched out over the head in anticipation of catching the throw.

It was the most beautiful sight I had ever seen.

She stood,even on tip toes,no more then 5'4"and Her weight had never exceeded 115 lbs except when She was with child.

Her long black hair was tied back in the two cutest piggy-tails you have ever seen.Her legs,highly visible under Her black cut-off jeans, rippled with muscles as She stood out streched,her hard flat abdomen exposed by the lifting of the white T-Shirt, revealing her tanned skin almost to the bottom of her pert breasts.

Her eyes,black as coal, were glancing nervously back and forth between the outfielder and me lumbering down the base line at Her.You had to admire her courage,She was not giving an inch,her feet werte going to stay on that bag no matter what I did.

Our man,who had been on first was just crossing home plate,all it took to tie the game was for me to jog around the bases,I could easily out pace what would have to be a relayed throw.

We lost the game by one run.The next batter after me hit an easy pop up to third.

End of story................................................................till next week!

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