53.03 The Hamstring

[shoeless.db]

The flash of a lower arm angle. Gripped fingers to the side. The harsh pull of the elbow.

Todd Rice's body reacted without a thought. His weight and hands and hips stayed back. Waiting. With patience. A snake narrowing its eyes before striking.

The bright red eye of the seams spinning. A curveball, defying the eye and mind and reality. Starting outside. High. Destined to sneak over the black of the plate. Knee high.

And Rice held back. Silent.

The ball made its move, and Rice struck. His hands ripped through the calm air. Like lightning without the flash. Wood towards leather.

Crack.

Ball driven up the middle. The mark of a veteran. The mark of a career .325 BBA hitter. But hit within reach of Nashville shortstop Niaz Minhas, who dug his metal spikes hard to his left and dove and grasped this skipping ball. Rice raced towards first. To add another hit to his illustrious career.

Minhas spun to his feet, cocked his arm back in a blink, and threw the ball. Hard. Harder than should be possible.

The ball and Rice and all the eyes of the nearly 60,000 fans in attendance converged towards first. A meeting place in the drama of all that is baseball. The timing and speed and the humanity of an umpire's call. His judgment.

Just as the ball closed in on the first baseman's mitt, Rice lunged for first, his cleat pressing into the bright white of the bag.

And the bag turned to dust. A fog of green.

Rice fell through the nothingness the base had become. Fell through darkness. Fell through cold. And warmth. And a heaviness of being miles underwater.

And he kept falling. His arms flailed. He tried to scream. Water rushed into his mouth, stagnant and foul, tasting of muck and death. His heart slammed in his chest. His mind flashed like a thousand volts from the strain.

And he heard Nisanci laugh. That same laugh after Camacho disappeared into centerfield.

And just as Rice felt his consciousness leave him, as death grasped to take him, as the dissonance of Nisanci's cackles hammered in his mind, his eyes caught the world spinning. He had tripped over the base and rag-dolled into a heap up the foul line.

...

Per the official Box Score of 6/6/2053 --
Special Notes: RF Todd Rice was injured while running the bases.

[Jwalk100]

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[Trebro]

these are pure gold

[Dington]

Just had to drag Nashville into this…