by Zachariah Langley

Created on: July 07, 2011

"This is the start of game three," the announcer excitedly says as the players take the field, "and here comes the Big Gun, Rick Stone," he shouts as the crowd erupts. Swaggering out to the pitching mound, he lifts his hat without even turning around to loud chants of his name. Up in one of the executive boxes two older men in suits watch him throw a few practice balls to warm up. As the numbers climb from 95 miles an hour up to 110 in just a few pitches the crowd cheers their hometown boy on. The two men in the box simply look on a clink glasses of whiskey together.

"To the mule," one says to the other.

"Play ball," the umpire shouts loudly and the first batter takes the plate. The Texas Longhorns and the New York Dogs had a long standing grudge going back several years to a large game fight, but this year it was different. The Longhorns in their bright red uniforms looked like stars among a green sky standing and waiting for the ball, but the Big Gun wouldn't have any of that.

"I'mma blast that ball right down your throat Small Gun," the first batter says taking a few swings before getting in his hitting stance.

"The Bug Gun lines himself, gets the signal and," he says holding his breath like the rest of the crowd. The movement seems almost slow as he leans back with a pitch and fires the ball across the plate before the batter even knows what's happening. The umpire calls a strike, and the crowd erupts. "Strike ball," the announcer shouts looking at the speed counter that places the balls speed at 115 miles an hour.

"You gotta hit the ball first Shorty," he shouts at the batter angering him as the catcher throws the ball back with a smile. Two more strikes and two full outs with no hits and the Dogs switch places. As Stone sits and thinks about his decision, he smiles and takes a large drink of his vitamin water.

"The Longhorns get two on in the bottom of the first," the announcer says, "and two outs." As the next batter comes on against Rocco John Dillinger, the Dogs' star pitcher, Stone begins to feel strange. He shakes it off and sees that their last batter has been struck out. "The Dogs are up to bat as the Longhorns take the field," he says as Stone drinks the last of his bottle, throws it at the can.. and misses. Slowly making it out to the field he makes it to the mound after a minute or two, and gets ready. The cheers of the crowd begin echoing strangely as he takes the plate and suddenly home plate is hazy. His arms feel like he's been carrying

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