I couldn’t help but have a smile on my face as I tumbled out of my car to join the rest of the Soft Serves for our third game of the season. We won the first two, and the chatter was already underway about our chances to win the season championship.

I scanned the parking lot, and it looked like Sven hadn’t arrived yet. I pulled on my glove and jogged over to the teammates who were warming up in the outfield. My limp was completely gone, and it was replaced by a bounce in my step.

Antonio was bent over pulling up old-fashioned bright red baseball socks before tugging his uniform pants down most of the way over top of them. I said, “Snazzy socks there, Antonio.”

He looked up and laughed. Then he high-fived me with the hand not covered by a glove. He said, “I stumbled over them online one day at work when I was supposed to be…working, and I had to have them.”

I said, “They are so…you, Antonio.”

He grinned and said, “Thank you.”

I picked up one of the neon green softballs and asked Antonio if he wanted to toss it back and forth with me. He said, “I rarely say no to a handsome man.” Then he leaned forward and whispered, “Don’t tell Lex you heard that from me.”

“Lips are sealed, Antonio!” I jogged out to center field. Marshall and Billy were already warming up, and I could hear the thwack of the ball hitting the glove as they threw hard.

I felt inspired, and the first ball I threw to Antonio was a little harder than normal. He squealed and said, “Wow, have you been hitting the gym Lowell? There was real muscle behind that ball.”

I laughed and said, “I was just imagining throwing a ball in from center field trying to catch that guy stretching his single into a double.”

Antonio tossed the ball back to me, and I returned it with another hard throw. He pulled off his glove and shook his hand. “Why don’t you, um, save that energy for the game, Lowell?”

I laughed and served him up a total cream puff the next time I threw the ball back. I turned my head just in time to see Sven jogging out to join us.

Antonio said, “Here comes lover boy.” He held on to the ball while I gave Sven a big hug and a quick kiss.

Sven said, “Hey, sorry, guys, I was running a little late. The guy showed up to check out the shingles on the roof and figure out how to repair my leak.”

Antonio asked, “You’ve still got bad things happening with that house?”

Sven shook his head. “No, now they are fixing the problems. Lowell is going to rebuild the patio roof with me.”

Putting a hand on his hip, Antonio said, “Well, if the two of you are Mr. Fix-Its now, Lex and I could use a new garage door installed. Lex backed off of the project when the guy at the hardware store warned that he could lose a hand if he didn’t know what he was doing.”

I shook my head and said, “I’m sorry Antonio. I’m only Mr. Fix-It for Sven.”

Antonio grinned and said, “I bet you are. You fix him up well.”

---

As the game got under way, both teams failed to put any runners on base in the first inning. It looked like it was going to be a long day when Blake popped up a ball to lead off the second.

I was the third to bat in the inning with nobody on base. I dug in at home plate determined to deliver the first hit of the game. I could hear Sven’s deep voice stand out among the others in the dugout encouraging me to get a hit.

It was one thing to stare back at a pitcher in baseball who was trying to throw the ball past you at ninety miles an hour. A slow-pitch softball player was more into just trying to throw you off your game. This pitcher gave me a little knowing smirk just before he released the ball. The smirk was distracting.

I swung at the first pitch, and I knew that I was too early right when the bat left my shoulder. I tried to slow down the swing, but I missed the ball entirely. The catcher taunted me saying, “He’s an easy out.”

I pounded the bat in the middle of home plate again, and then I waited for the next pitch. This time I connected, but the ball was far wide of first base. It was a nice line drive, but it was foul by a mile.

One chance remained to get on base. Sven yelled, “Shake it off” from the dugout, and he was joined by a chorus of other voices. I settled in, pulled my bat back, and I waited for the pitch.

I hit the ball, but just barely. It rolled about twenty-four inches in front of home plate. I ran hard for first base, but the ball was there in the first baseman’s glove before I was even halfway.

I hung my head. Sven ran out to me and handed me my glove while giving me a clap on the back. He said, “Hey, you’ll get ‘em next time.”

He was followed by Blake who pulled me aside briefly. He said, “You just need to lean back a little when you crouch, Lowell. Like this.” He demonstrated for me and imagined that he was holding a bat.

I was dismissive. I said, “I’m sure that works for you, Blake, but unfortunately, I’m not you.”

He grabbed my shoulder and said, “I’m serious. You’re almost there Lowell. Lean back and when you throw that weight forward, you’ll get twice as much power on the ball. Trust me this once, and give it a try.”

I broke for center field and called back over my shoulder, “I’ll give it a try, thanks!”

I had plenty of doubt in my head that changing the way I stood at home plate would help at all, but somebody needed to do something in the game. We put up a parade of batters thrown out at first or hitting popups that were caught on the infield. The first four innings went by with neither team coming anywhere close to scoring a run. Sven hit a long ball into the outfield, but it was easily caught by the other team’s center fielder.

Just before I left the dugout to take some practice swings on deck for my next time at bat, Sven asked, “Are you feeling good today, Lowell?”

I answered with my own question. “How could I not feel good spending time with you?”

He said, “Then you should be able to get a hit.”

“Even when the rest of the team fails?” I asked.

“Forget about that, Lowell. Go out there and tear the cover off the ball.” I stood up and he swatted my ass. A big grin spread across my face as I left the dugout.

I tried a few swings in the warmup circle. Then I remembered what Blake said. I tried leaning backward a little on my rear foot. It felt slightly awkward, but then when I pushed my body forward, I realized that Blake had a point. I wondered if I could hit the ball harder.

I wasn’t known as a power hitter. I could be fairly reliable and usually got on base at least once every game. I hit one home run in the previous season, but I thought it was a fluke.

With two outs and nobody on base again, I stepped to the plate. I could hear Sven’s voice telling me this time to, “Tear the cover off the ball!”

I also managed to pick out Blake encouraging, “Lean back, Lowell! Just lean back a little.”

The catcher called out to the mound, “You’re on your way to a perfect game, Simpson. This guy’s another easy out.”

I wanted to glare at the catcher, but I kept my eyes focused in the opposite direction. I dug in at the plate, and then, just before the pitcher released the ball, I leaned back.

It was a good pitch. It was going to cross the plate at approximately waist height. I waited patiently and then swung pushing my body weight forward and into the ball.

The bat hit its target, and the hit fell solid to my hands. I started to jog toward first base convinced that the ball would be caught in the outfield. Then I noticed that all of the players were just standing and watching instead of readying themselves for a throw back to the infield.

As I rounded first base, I saw the ball sail over the center field fence and threw my fists in the air. It was a home run. My team clustered to greet me when I stomped emphatically on home plate.

The umpire waved them all back toward the dugout bellowing, “We’ve got a game to play! Back in the dugout!”

I hugged Sven, and Blake whispered in my ear, “Like magic. Good job!”

The next batter was out, but we took the field with a one-run lead. It was better than nothing, and the way the game was going, we knew that it might be enough for a win.

That was still the situation two innings later when we headed to our positions for the bottom of the seventh inning. We had two more base runners in the previous innings, but we failed to score any additional runs.

I wanted my rare home run to be the game-winning hit, but I was nervous. I could feel my legs were a little wobbly as I jogged into the outfield.

The first two outs were easy. One ball was a slow roller to Blake at third base, and he just had to scoop it up and fire across the field to the first baseman.

The second batter hit a foul popup behind home plate. Reggie tore off his catcher’s mask and backed up to find the umpire in the way. After delivering a sharp elbow, Reggie caught the ball with an outstretched arm. His masterful play earned applause from both teams. We were one out away from a win.

The next batter was the cleanup hitter for our opponents. He had the power to hit the ball over the fence. I nervously glanced behind me and then backed up three steps.

On the first pitch, the ball was launched as a high pop up. I could immediately see that it was going to come down about exactly halfway between Antonio playing second base and me in center field. He started to back up waving his long arms in the air.

Antonio called, “I’m gonna get it! I think!”

I tried to call him off because I had a better angle for catching the ball. I just needed to run forward instead of back up. I shouted, “No, I’ve got it!”

I glanced briefly to my right to see both Blake and Marshall put their arms over their head and duck. They were remembering my previous collision with Antonio.

I continued to run forward and then planted myself in place as the ball fell from the sky. Antonio kept backing up but then at the last minute he ducked down and literally rolled sideways to my left. With a sense of satisfaction, I watched as the ball settled itself into the webbing of my glove.

A loud shout rose from my team and they mobbed me on the field. Ian pulled Antonio to his feat just as I was crushed and knocked down by my over-zealous teammates.

I tried to shout, “Guys! Guys! Air!”

They struggled to their feet, and Sven pulled me up. I wrapped my arms tight around his neck and shared a serious, full-mouth kiss. Our teammates broke into spontaneous applause.