by Cynthia Newberry Martin
The eleven-year-old runner was caught off second base, caught watching the play, a parent said, his father actually. “If you’re going to watch, buy a ticket!” his father yelled into the air. Now the boy was kicking dirt as he made his way to the dugout, his head hanging, his shoulders hunched. The kids on the field were looking into the crowd. The other parents shifted in their portable chairs, moved the pine straw around with their feet, reached for bottles of water. The boy’s mother, who was staring at her husband, hung her head and looked as if she wished she could go to the dugout too.
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Cynthia Newberry Martin lives in Columbus, Georgia. Please visit her blog and be sure to leave a word (or six) to let her know you were there.
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10 comments:
Great writing and really nice, terse description. I remember a friend of my father's who used to yell himself hoarse at the game, a little league game! A great read.
oh, i liked this.
Congratulations on six-tacularness in six sentences!
You hit a home run with this challenge. Nicely done:)
You certainly have seen some little league. Parents seem to forget it's a game. You captured this well.
Oh my, this brought back memories. Good, succinct scene capture.
Oh, I loved this. It instantly transported me to Peach Little League games and the uncomfortable feelings I had when parents took the game so much more seriously than the children.
Read your blog post about all the work that went into the formation of this story. Nice results.
Thanks, MDJB, and everyone else for reading and taking the time to comment. I appreciate it.
This is great--as a mother of a young boy, it is actually painful.
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