Homerun Hitters | Teen Ink

Homerun Hitters

November 30, 2008
By Anonymous

Every baseball player dreams of hitting the long ball. The special “tink” noise the bat only makes when hitting a homer rings joyfully in the ears for hours. “Chicks dig the long ball,” is probably one of the most commonly heard quotes heard around the baseball fields. For every home run, there is a various reaction to it by the lucky man who just hit it. Or, if chicks really do dig the long ball, it is more like an about-to-get-lucky man. Homerun hitters personal traits seem to always file suit under one of these categories: “I can’t believe I just did that” player, the “Nothing unordinary to me” kid, the “Let’s see how much smack I can talk until I get kicked out” ballplayer, and the “I hope that ball didn’t just land on the moon” man. Many opposite characters react individually to their own success on the diamond.

“I can’t believe I just did that.” These words are often murmured by the gaunt kid who just happened to hit a dinger. This kid grew up being picked last on the playground and is used to being shoved around in the school halls. Now he just ran into a pitch and hit it out! This lucky guy’s mom is standing up and finds herself screaming “That’s my boy” for the first time in her motherhood. The scrawny mouse stares and watches his ball sail over the fence, starting to second guess if he is asleep right now in a fairy tale dream. Coaches are going bonkers and wondering why they never started him before. His teammates are drooling with their mouths open as if they just saw Jessica Simpson wink at them. Meanwhile, the little hero trots the bases and enters back into the dugout, not quite sure if he should boast or try to play it cool with his baffled teammates. Most likely he gets hi-fives and sits on the bench playing it off as if it is as common as taking his dog to the park. Inside, however, he doesn’t think it will ever happen again and is too insecure to talk the talk to his buddies in the dugout. It will be a day that will never be forgotten in that household.

There are always some of those hardworking kids who seem to kiss up to the coaches when, instead, they probably should be kissing up to their teammates for some more respect. When someone like this hammers a homerun, they round the bases with the “nothing new to me” attitude. This is the hard working, blue collar, ideal American success story. Doing all the little things right will lead to success in their mind. Coaches admire this trophy-esque athlete and he takes it all in with humility. He leaves sweat, blood, and tears on the field every day and will always give it his all. After he spanks the frozen rope for a homer he trots the bases secretly smiling but still managing to act professional, although it is obvious he beams with over-confidence. His teammates gather to congratulate him at home plate and his coach smiles and reminds the rest of his players that hard work and going the extra mile always pays off in the end. When bunched together on the same squad, these players seem to create long lasting halcyon days filled with winning. The way this type of kid handles success is very admirable, if only one of his teammates cared.

“Who is dumb enough to fight me and my supplement-filled, professional-bound, bulging muscles?” The “let’s see how much I can talk smack until I get kicked out” player is glowing after he drops a massive bomb into the stands; however, he isn’t luminous with humility, he is filled head to toe with the assumption that he is the nucleus of the earth. Without him, there is no earth or life; well at least it wouldn’t be worth living in his mind. As soon as he hits his “no-doubter” as he later describes to his peers, he barks at the pitcher and showboats as he rounds the bases towards home. The coach wishes he could pull him out of the game and make him face some real major league pitching just to chuckle in self amusement as the helpless kid strikes out hideously time after time after time. But he is only day dreaming; the kid can hit. If they want to win, his coach must play him every inning no matter how much his teammates and coaches despise him. Other players’ parents always tell their child on the drive home to never end up how he did, and that his actions really just embarrass himself. The cocky one is naïve though; he is blind from all of this talk behind his back and thinks they all love him because he is, of course, destined for the big leagues.

One of the most often found homerun hitter is the average goofball. This is the dork that wants the glory and the babes, but instead, must settle for the collective crowds wishing for more of his tantalizing personality. “I hope that ball didn’t land on the moon” kid is without a doubt the family favorite. Jokes are more abundant to him then dirt on his uniform. He cracks up the team and lightens the mood sometimes even to the annoyance of a sergeant coach drilling his team for more effort and focus. By talking smack to his teammates or checking out a good looking mother in the stands, this kid finds a way to attract attention without purposefully doing it. When he strokes a long ball he runs with a smile on his face and his teammates gather at the front of the dugout, pacing with anticipation of what hilarious line will come out of his mouth first. Most likely something related to about how he just hit a ball so hard it’s in orbit or asking his teammates if they saw the laser show he just put on. This kid plays off his successes just as much as his failures and is praised for playing the game for the right reason, to have fun.

Home run hitters come in all shapes and sizes and so do their egos. They each handle their potent abilities a little differently, from the quiet shrimp who’s thinking “I can’t believe I just did that,” to the boasting ‘roid monkey wondering “let’s see how much smack I can talk until I get kicked out.” Truthfully, it may not even matter how they handle themselves, because in most males’ eyes they are all lucky dudes because chicks really do dig the long ball.


Similar Articles

JOIN THE DISCUSSION

This article has 0 comments.