The game was tied seven to seven, bases full, with an eight to seven score resting heavily on Matthew Long’s shoulders. Matthew picked up the bat, but the bat slipped away and flew to the nearest cave.
Having shamed the team, Matthew ran home to his mother, bewildered to why she was standing on it, with cleats even. Had she joined the team?
She rang the dinner bell though made no promises of actual dinner because kitchens were no place for a recreational field. Crumbled biscuit and pocket lint was the best she could do, which was Matthew’s favorite!
When the day finished, both went to their dugouts and fell asleep for the night.