When I was 16 I stared out my classroom window listening to nothing but the wind. The wind blowing through the air heavy. It made me excited to go to baseball.
Baseball starts at 3:30. It would go for hours until I had to go home. But I wouldn't care as long I had Gatorade and a snack. Being sweaty and having fun was all I cared about. Mom would have to call me every time I wasn't home after dark. But there were lights at the field so I was ok.
She would tell me to come home or I'm in trouble. But I would risk it and refuse to leave. Telling her that baseball is my life. Which was definitely true and she knew it was.
My papa Ricardo would tell my mom to stop pestering me to come home so early when it first starts to get dark. 3 hours later it happens. The lecturing starts.
I would run home as fast I can. I look at my phone and it's 10:30. The lecture didn't even start yet. I would try to sneak in when she was looking for me and try to pass her.
I slowly and quietly open the door. Making sure mom and papa didn't hear me. Mom making it very difficult to do. I peeped through the door into the kitchen to small the nice rice and meat on the table for me. I would slowly step in the kitchen.
I didn't want to cause any attention. I wanted mom to understand I only broke the rules for baseball. But suddenly I heard that step. But I didn't think it was true.
There she was waiting for me to come. The lecture was in full ammo ready to fire. How do you expect me to practice of I gotta be home ?
All she says is you have school in the morning.
She was right but I didn't wanna admit she was but she was.
I eventually learned how to adapt practicing during the week and weekends. Going from school to do the field everyday.
Today,
It was 3:35 and I was ready to practice. I went home at 8:00 on the dot.
Became the best player that season
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