There are few things in life that are worse than standing alone in the outfield, your hands raised helplessly because you can't see the fly ball you're supposed to be catching.Sigh. Been there, buddy. Well, except for the fog:
My first ever varsity game, I started in center field...looking back I don't know why I would've been in center instead of left....maybe our regular cf got raped by a bear on the way to the game? Mmmmmm....sexy....ANYways, like I said, I'm blind as a bat which, along with the dim lighting as dusk set in and a ball covered in dirt and colored a perfectly dull beige, meant that I couldn't see the ball off the bat. Which is not a great thing when you're, you know...playing baseball. Or, to be honest, walking or standing anywhere near the ballfield. I could usually pick it up a second later, along with seeing where everybody else was looking at. I know, real Willie Mays stuff. - fucking baseball, and I gotta be Sherlock fucking Holmes out there. THANKS cones and rods! Anyway, it's late in the game - dusk at it's worst, and I can barely see the batter from center field, much less a goddam ball going 150mph off a bat. All of a sudden I hear a PING!! (aluminum bats, people) and this goes through my head:
"well, THAT was fucking crushed...okay, where's it going...what's everybody looking at.........why's everybody looking at me?" and then THOOOOMP!!!.....I hear the ball land like a fucking meteorite about 3 feet to my right. Ohoh.
Let me tell you people something: it's a looooooooooooooong walk to the dugout from 350 feet away. In the middle of an inning. As your replacement is spryly skipping past you. It's easy to be embarrassed as a 15 year old, so you can imagine how awesome this felt in front of a full set of bleachers. My coach said I wasn't going in again until I got glasses, which I did by the next game.