My Hole in My Mouth On a cold spring afternoon, after a large burger that was sitting in my stomach as it slowly digests, I set out for baseball practice unknowing that my life change from a rookie mistake. While I walked down the steps with the scritch scratch of my cleats against the side walk and the clink clank of my metal bats in my bag, as I mentally get ready for a long practice. My rookie coach yells out in a raspy voice ‘practice starts in 10 minutes’ I quickly run to my little dug out with the gentle breeze against my face. Once I getting my oiled glove on I start to run to the outfield to meet my teammates as we setup for simple throwing drill. The distant whistle of the coach to get our attention and directs us to line up, calling out numbers one through four until he calls me, unfortunately I was put in two, pop flies. Being an inexperienced second grader I wasn’t very excited of balls to be falling at me from above. The coach lines us up on the end line and runs out to the middle of the field with what seems like a mile away. He throws the ball to each of us with the loud thud of the ball as it hits against my comrade’s gloves. Then it is thrown to me not sure of what to do as a million thoughts go through my head unsure if I should back up or go forwards. I stay where I am as it is comes right at me star struck as if a herd of elephants stampedes strait towards me I am in the way . I stick my glove out in front of me and take a step back