It’s a little high, the perfect pitch to get underneath and crush. I focus in as the pitcher lofts the ball towards me. Nice and slow, straight down the middle, hit-me-a-mile meatballs! Their best pitcher is out now, and they had to bring in this dude who throws total meatballs. I can finally be somebody! Plus, as Stu would say, the pitcher I’m up against totally has a spaghetti arm. Normally I wouldn’t be upset with bunting, but if I get a hit I can walk off the field as the hero. I readjust my helmet to send him the sign that I know what to do. I look down the third baseline for the signs from Coach Dad. curse when I crush this next pitch and drive in the winning run! Just a little single, and I could drive in the winning run. We’re in extra innings of a tie game, and I’m stepping up to the plate with a runner on second and nobody out. For once, I can be the hero! The reason these thoughts are polluting my brain is because I’m about to step into the batter’s box with a chance to win the game. I get a lot of walks though because I’m short. For baseball, I bat ninth and have to bunt a lot. My dad only has enough time to be the coach for one of us, and he figures he can kill two birds with one stone by including me with all the older kids. The only problem is, no matter what sport we play, I end up on my brother’s team. We both love to play football, basketball, and baseball. It’s weird to see a grown man cry.Īs for my brother, Stu, he’s a turd and all, but we do have some things in common.

In my defense, I didn’t know the mousetrap would fall into his boxer/briefs and then he would put them on. He used a lot of other words that shouldn’t be repeated when I did that. Dad says it sometimes when I’m fooling around too much, like when I put a mousetrap in his underwear drawer. Sometimes I wonder if I’d prefer a nickname like the inappropriate word for donkey instead of O.K. Here’s a little more about my family’s last name, if you’re wondering how to pronounce Kalshwonkee correctly. I’ll draw a picture of that goon, so you can see for yourself. Every chance I get I call my brother Stu - Pid. That’s the name of our great uncle who was a farmer or something.

At least they didn’t name me Stu like my older brother. I asked my parents why they didn’t name me something cool, like Maximus.īecause you’re named after Grandpa Otis, my father replied. for short, and I’ve been cursed to be average at everything for the rest of my life.Įven my initials are just O. The only people that matter in the world are people who are great at something.

O.K. Is Great by David Tiefenthaler