Jimmy was a short boy; he was just over three feet tall when he started kindergarten. Jimmy was a determined boy who never took No as an answer. He had a dream to one day playing professional baseball in the MLB. He was young and naïve, but he was determined. His parents didn’t know how to tell him that this was unlikely to happen. This would crush him but they felt they needed to do it; he needed to focus on more important things in their mind.

“Jimmy maybe you shouldn’t do that, don’t you want to be a doctor or lawyer someday” they said, wishing for a yes.

“That’s ok Mommy and Daddy, but I want to be a baseball player,” Jimmy said with a big innocent smile, one that could make you forget about all your problems with the World. He watched baseball all day, mostly by himself. His father was more of a football and hockey fan, baseball in his mind was too slow and quite boring. Jimmy couldn’t disagree more, baseball was Jimmy’s friend , but didn’t say one word to him out of fear of being hit He would sit on the rugged and aged carpet, staring at the lit up screen that was the television. 12 inches tall and 12 inches wide, it didn’t matter; as long as his game was on TV, Jimmy was happy. He could relate to the small stature of the television, he was the shortest kid in his class, including the girls.

Jimmy’s family wasn’t very wealthy and his father spent most of his paycheck on boose and cigarettes, the rest of it went for food. His father was a short and slender man, he always wore rugged hats to cover up his air which was beginning to bald, aged hats, that reeked of sweat and cigarette smoke, the methane gas clearly seemed to invisibly possessed perspiration from the bill of his cap, the nicotine sketched and drowned into the stitching and seams. He was equipped when a scruffy brown beard that was storage for food at least that was what Jimmy thought. Mom decided to pick up a night job working at the local food market during the holidays. She wanted to surprise her little boy with a new baseball glove. A good one, not a cheap plastic one, she wanted this one to last for a long time .They couldn’t afford to buy one every year.

After a couple weeks of working as late as 3 am, she finally had enough money to buy Jimmy his glove. She was very excited as she made the trip to the sporting goods store, two counties away from where they lived. It was just two days before Christmas and she walked towards the store; the wind-chill was full of sharp daggers, stabbing the skin with every gust. She didn’t mind, it was for her little boy, she would do anything for him, just to see his perfect lit up smile.

She walked through the doors, made a turn to her left to the sports equipment section which was just 5 isles away, and she felt like running to it. She turned the corner and there they were: shelves and shelves of beautiful leather baseball gloves.

‘There are so many to choose from. What should get him? “I don’t want it to be too small, but he needs it to be big enough for him to grow into,” As she planned out in her head. A slick oil black Rawlings glove with pro I webbing caught her eye. She checked the price and she had just enough, $89.99, she knew it was a lot but she knew that was something special about it, she never played the game but for some reason she just knew. She carefully scanned it closely with a razor sharp focused eye. She looked at the imprinted size of the glove ‘11 ½ inches’. The black leather felt rich or durable. The red background to the white R in cursive writing was perfectly engraved on the base of the thumb of the glove. It was the perfect contrast from the metallic blackness in the glove. The glove seemed to have evangelical presence of success and it was boastful of it. The lights from the store made the glove glisten with pride as it was being observed. The quit overpowering smell of smell fresh leather steer hide pierced the noise of the Mom. She put her small petite hands in the glove as a way to gauge whether it would fit Jimmy. The smooth mesh of the glove embraces her hand, it fit perfectly, and she had made her decision.

On Christmas day, Jimmy made his way through his presents; he finally got to the big one. His Mom’s face was filled with excitement and anticipation. He quickly tore the blue and yellow gift wrap to see the most beautiful thing he ever seen in his life.

“Why did Santa buy him that, he doesn’t need it, that’s not going to get him anywhere in his life, don’t encourage him” the Dad said to the mother.

Jimmy didn’t even hear him; he was in his own world with his new best friend. He didn’t even open up the rest of his presents, nothing was going to beat what his hand was wearing right now, his new glove.

Jimmy did everything with his glove. He would sleep with it, eat with it, he did everything. He never let that priced prized of cow skin leave his sight; he cringed at the thought of losing his friend. He wanted to put his glove to the test so he asked his Mommy of she would sign him up for a baseball league. The mother knew that she would have to work even more hours but it was worth it to see that huge smile on her boy’s face.

The next spring was the start of Jimmy’s first year of t-ball. He was so eager to play ball with his friend. He imagined himself playing better than anyone else.

In his first game he hit the ball all the way to the fence from the tee, which was a habit for Jimmy. The calm yet focused eyes of the boy, looking as if though he was a hawk going in for the kill of a rodent. He feared none in the league.

The small yet determined young boy steadily gained recognition and respect; it didn’t take long as the boy’s hitting average was .700, 56 Runs batted in and somehow he had 5 homeruns (he also had no errors at shortstop with the credit of his friend he met on Christmas day when he was five), which was puzzling to everyone because of the boy’s small stature. Everyone loved the atmosphere he binged the clubhouse every day, he was genuinely nice, a trait his mom most likely passed down. He was always there is someone needed a little extra time in the batting cages. He made everyone feel like they were the MVP, even though it was clear who the real MVP of the team was, in fact the whole League. He did it just how he saw the big leaguers did; ‘hit it hard and hit it far’.

Over the next couple of years, the league officials decided to move up Jimmy due to overwhelming complaints of parents about their sons being injured by a ball Jimmy hit at them or how he threw too hard. They decided to move him up 2 age divisions. Jimmy was 8 years old playing with 11 and 12 year olds. Jimmy didn’t mind just as long as he was playing baseball, he was happy.

The first game, the coach put Jimmy at second base (not his primary position shortstop), out of fear of the bigger kids injuring him with hard ground ball. Jimmy walked on the field with all 4 foot 7 of him, he was ready to play ball. For warm-ups the first baseman threw grounders to all three infielders. The third baseman was first, the shortstop was next and then it was Jimmy at second base. Jimmy was standing on the bag waiting as the two went before him. The first baseman threw as hard ball on the ground that was about 60 feet from where Jimmy was positioned. The first baseman wanted to embarrass him and prove a point that he didn’t belong in this league and he should move back down with kids his age. Jimmy turned his hips to the left and with one quick motion charged at the ball, he knew he could get it standing up so he dove out and put his glove where the ball was rolling, the ball went right in the web of the glove. An aluminous wave of dirt swooped out and Jimmy brought his small frame off the ground. Jimmy quickly got up and reared his right arm back and fired it to the first baseman. Ca-smack! As the ball hit the palm of the light tan Wilson first base mitt .The first baseman winced in pain as he took off his glove and turned his body to his teammates who were now laughing at him. He thought in his head; “this kid is the real deal, I think he broke my hand!”
The coaches couldn’t believe this short and scrawny kid; who was 4 years younger than everyone his teammates, was now the team captain but he really was their best player and a vocal leader. The calm yet focused eyes of the boy, looking as if though he was a hawk going in for the kill of a rodent. He feared none in the league.

Jimmy steadily gained recognition and respect; it didn’t take long as the boy’s hitting average was .700, 56 Runs batted in and somehow he had 5 homeruns (he also had no errors at shortstop with the credit of his friend he met on Christmas day when he was five), which was puzzling to everyone because of the boy’s small stature. Everyone loved the atmosphere he binged the clubhouse every day, he was genuinely nice, a trait his mom most likely passed down. He was always there is someone needed a little extra time in the batting cages. He made everyone feel like they were the MVP, even though it was clear who the real MVP of the team was, in fact the whole League.


As Jimmy got older life at home became more and more trough, the constant yelling was overwhelming to Jimmy, his Mom would yell at the Dad declaring him to be drunk (which in fact was the case almost everyday). Jimmy became numb to all of the screaming and yelling, but he still possessed a hidden hatred towards his that bastard he called a Father. Jimmy expressed his overwhelming but caged anger on the ball with 5-ply waxed cotton thread hand-stitching. Bang! 324 feet; that was for the time his Dad burned him with a cigarette bud. Zing!; a solid rope into the left center field gape for a stand-up double, that was for him stealing his birthday money he got and bought booze. Ka-ching!; a hooking high fly ball out of the reach of the right fielder and skippering off the fresh green grass to the outfield wall (345 feet from home plate to be exact) for a triple, that was for him hitting his Mom across the cheek-bone, when she wouldn’t give him the keys because he was too drunk to walk.
Jimmy playing baseball was pure example of totally controlled raw anger and using it for a positive outcome. No one on the team knew about Jimmy’s home life, he was too embarrassed and would rather talk baseball. He needed an outlet to express his frustrated emotions and that was baseball and it was always going to be baseball.
A Few years flew by and Jimmy now found himself playing shortstop, a 4 year starter, on the varsity on the number one baseball high school team in the country. Many of the opposing teams underestimate Jimmy, understandably so because of his size. Jimmy like it that way, he preferred it.
On calm spring Friday afternoon, Jimmy noticed some people in the crowd that he’d never seen before while he drank a refreshing cup of lemon lime Gatorade in the clubhouse. They were dressed in sharp ‘Sunday church’ clothes, equipped with a clip board, all of them were on their phone talking.
“Jimmy those are professional baseball scouts, there here to see you play,” David, the starting third baseman, nudging in his brawny shoulder.
He thought David was just joking with him; he was the biggest prankster on the team. Jimmy picked up his bat, an all black with silver an gold lettering Demerini Vexxum that he had had it for years, 32 inches and 29 ounces but just right for Jimmy. It took him about 6 months to earn enough money but he knew the bat was perfect for him. The letters were beginning to decay off of the barrel. They were clinging on for dear life; pleading to be a part of the next big hit. He took the short walk to the batter’s box and dug his left cleat into the front of the batter’s box, not making eye contact with the pitcher. He never liked the box to be too soft or two hard, just in the middle where he could move around easily with out hesitating. He took a deep breath then coked his bat back on his left shoulder as he prepared for the pitch. The stall lanky pitcher looking at Jimmy thought for sure he could throw a hitter at this small little punk; easy strikeout for sure! Jimmy lifted his left foot and the pitcher reared back, then as the ball was being released he planed it firmly into the soft soil of the batter’s box, swinging the bat head towards the hard fastball. Ta -Ting! The ball quickly traveled over the center fielders head, sharply hitting the painted pine tree green wooden wall, taking a big chunk of paint off of it. Jimmy was rounding second just as the centerfielder was picking up the beat-up ball, he was determined to be on the third, he took as long of strides as he little body could, with one last step he hurled his body forward and dove for the partially bleached white bag and grasping it with his battered and aged batting glove. He was easily safe. The baseball scouts were now beginning to talk amongst themselves now and not on their phones, they all knew they had found what they were looking for.

After the game, Jimmy made his way towards his prized 2002 Chevy S10 pick-up. The truck wasn’t much but he was proud he had something to call his own. He threw his batting bag in the premature rusty bed of the truck. He turned his head and the 4 of the men with the nice dressy ‘Sunday church’ clothes were standing next to the driver door.
“Hello James, my name is Ron Williams and this is my scouting team we are professional scouts from the Texas Rangers and we would like to offer you a professional contract to come play some baseball. I let you talk to your folks about it and get back to us. We think you’re a great ballplayer and you would be a perfect fit for the Texas Ranger’s organization.”

Jimmy premature face blushed, he found himself swimming in a pool denial. “You’re kiddin’ me right now right, this has got to be a prank or something,” as he said with a low pitched non -convincible tone.

“No sir, this is a real deal, we think you got what it takes to be an excellent player and leader. We have talked to your coaches for the last couple of months and they have told us about your great work ethic on your own game and with helping your teammates improving their game. We know you got heart and we also know you won’t let your size determine how much success you will have. You’re a great young man, Jimmy. Hope to hear from you soon,” saying with an old tuned gruffly voice as he walked away.
Jimmy couldn’t believe it. His dream had come true, he tried to contain himself but how he could, he had been dreaming of this day since he was 4 years old!
He drove home and after a couple of hours of waiting for his mom to get off work, she got home and he broke the exciting news to her.