Set your story on a baseball field.

Posted in Middle School on Oct 25, 2022

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✍️ 39 stories

“Baseballs, Citrus Suckies, Stanley & Me” by Frank Bosworth

Submitted to Contest #136

At the age of seven, I batted .292 for my hometown Pee-Wee baseball team. I had a three year .327 Little League average, a four year .384 Babe Ruth stat. Fifty-eight homeruns, ninety-two triples, one hundred sixty-three doubles. A seven year .352 ERA. Seven years - no errors, no cup. All of little matter. What mattered? For eight years, I was first baseman! Spring of '65, my junior year of High School, I had one wish, one dream, one desire; skip JV baseball try-outs entirely, and try-out, to play, to be, first baseman on the Varsity ba...

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“Donuts and Diamonds” by Stephanie Wiese

Submitted to Contest #136

“Lenny, I miss you.” Gia Donati wouldn’t have survived the past three years in Italy if it weren’t for her little sister's support. “Then come home. It’s time, Gia.” Lenora was tired. Since their father’s Parkinson’s left him unable to work at the shop it was just her, their mother and one employee, Mari. COVID caused them to shut down for about two months. While abroad, Gia helped them set up a website for online orders and it worked well for the most part. They limited the shop’s hours but still had to let four of the other employees go. G...

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“Devil in the Dugout” by Don Tucker

Submitted to Contest #136

It was my fourth year of patrolling left field in Bowie, Maryland. Not Baltimore, not D.C., not Philadelphia. I would even take Milwaukee or Kansas City at this point. My fourth season of not getting moved up to AAA ball, but also not being sent down to single A. I guess that was a positive. When I was in high school, I hit .513 and had major league scouts at every game. They recorded my every move and kissed my parent’s proverbial asses in the hopes that I would ink a contract with them. I signed right out of high school with the Baltimore ...

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“Lefty Mendel” by Eric Ang

Submitted to Contest #136

The smell of freshly cut lawn filled the morning spring air at the Little League field. The whir of the lawnmower could be heard in the distance as the man cutting the grass was finishing the last field. The umpire dressed in a blue shirt and navy pants was laying down the white chalk up the first base line. Behind the dugout the coach of the Little Giants was having a chat with one of the parents. “What do you mean my son, Mendel, can’t play third base?” Mrs. Cruz said to Coach Richie. “That doesn’t make any sense.” ...

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“One Last Time ” by John Maes

Submitted to Contest #136

One Last Time John Maes Jerry Berger walked up the stairs and onto the concourse overlooking the lush green playing field of County Stadium. He immediately noticed the crowd wasn’t go...

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“Heaven in the Honeysuckle” by Taylor Greny

Submitted to Contest #136

“I think I spent at least a quarter of my life here.” “Pfft, that’s not a lot, Axel.” “Twenty-two years old? You bet your ass a quarter of my life is a long time.” Jo chuckled and looked out onto the field. It was history, overgrown with weeds, the towering wire fences thick with honeysuckle and spidery green vines. Sad to look at really, like an abandoned building. But, she knew that it meant much more to Axel than it ever did to her. “Dad would bring me down here to practice even if we didn’t have a game coming up.” He snorted a...

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“Leave it to the Experts” by Colin Strivelli

Submitted to Contest #136

“Come on boy, this way. I cannot see,” lead scientist Professor Vlviro Vlkbrzok of the fourth Spoolorean Expansion, called out to his assistant.A younger Spoolorean by name of Glorp Gleever, a research assistant working under Professor Vlviro scuttled closer to his superior. He lifted his kalfagver and gave it a refreshing shake. Inside the hollowed out tube of vegetative matter, thousands of skarl bugs flittered about, emitting a bright pink glow from their abdomens. The immediate area of the ruins was bathed in a warm wash of light.“By the...

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“Amaretto” by M.A.S Frimpong

Submitted to Contest #136

AmarettoHe did what he always did. Walked to the Baseball field of his youth before the sunset; just to see the lights go on. Pushing 64, that was one of the few pleasures he allowed himself. Coffee in hand, harsh winter wind, he could not help but feel nostalgic. Glaring over the field, he once stood as a hero among men. He twisted his flask, he held the flask in his hand and couldn’t wait to sit and overlook his field. He could hear the cheers, see the sweat, the pants, the hits, the crowd roaring… they all came back to him. Drinking coffe...

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“At All Costs” by Tanner Burke

Submitted to Contest #136

“I have a competition in me. I want no one else to succeed. I hate most people.” In Little League, we play six innings win, lose or, God forbid, a tie, the old sister-kisser or something akin to that like dying by a thousand fastballs to the head. Losing is almost as bad, but losing is a wrong I can correct sometime later on, with intent and malice and I can put myself back on top and feel great. Losing is a great motivator, but tying’ll turn a nun to drugs within a couple of hours. I don’t give a damn if you’re playing tee-ball or ...

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“All Star” by Mary Kurpiewski

Submitted to Contest #136

THE ALL-STAR It’s that time of year again, SPRING. Standing on this baseball field in this clear, crisp weather makes me feel at home. My husband and I have been here many times before with our three children; Ronnie, 11, Timmy 10, and Missy 9. Somehow this time seems very different. Our fourth child, Joey, is waiting anxiously beside me to hear if he made the All-Star Little League team. He practices around the clock and counts the hours until his Saturday game. Quite a few people can’t believe he has such a pitching arm at his age...

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“You Can Go Home Again” by Daria White

Submitted to Contest #136

The bullpen phone rings just as my cutter settles into Johnny’s glove. He nods, but I know the ball was a little outside. I have the pitch if Johnny signals for it, but I’d rather not use it. Liggs, our bullpen coach, answers the phone, but other than his “Bullpen” greeting, he hasn’t uttered a word. The hair on the back of my neck stands up as I prepare to throw a 2 seamer. I can feel Liggs’s eyes on me. He nods and hangs up. “Turner!” This is it. The moment I’d neve...

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“Learning to Bat” by Sonali Sinha

Submitted to Contest #136

Rhea woke up early on a Saturday morning because the accounting firm she worked at required all hands on deck when they found multiple errors that caused a ripple effect which meant everyone had to go in and redo a month’s worth of work. She looked into the mirror as she prepared herself for a day in Corporate America. She dabbed her foundation over her freckles and then pulled her hair into a tight ponytail. She played around with it so that her black hair covered purple highlights. After slipping into her pantsuit, she grabbed her “I hate ...

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“Fantasy Field” by Marissa Ciliberto

Submitted to Contest #136

Blueberry shaded skies were held together by odd shaped cotton balls. If I could, I would give the sun a hug for shining so spectacularly upon the green field in front of me. My dreaded soul has always been eased by the grace of nature. It seems to be my only friend in this dull, cruel world. My head has never been screwed on right. I know this for a fact. All the other humans out there are far too similar. Their brains work connectively. Conversations never seem to roll easy with me. I always say something horribly out of the ordi...

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“Full Count” by Peyton Bowyer

Submitted to Contest #136

As I stepped into the mound, throwing a few warm-up pitches with my catcher, nerves overtook me. My body felt jumpy, and overstimulated, I fidgeted as my catcher retrieved the ball I had released too late. "Hey! Gilbert, keep your head on your shoulders!" My coach called to me. I held my glove out for the ball and nodded at his words. "Get up there, Jones," The opposing team's coach hollered. The first one up for this inning was #46, she was a heavy hitter, but she struggled with fast balls sometimes. I watched as she positioned herself in f...

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“Struck Out on a Full Count” by Dhruv Srivastava

Submitted to Contest #136

The slender maple wood felt like the hand of an old friend between his calloused fingers, and the wear of home runs showed on the barrel. This was not his latest bat, but rather the one he’d hit his first high school single with, and the one he thought he’d take with him to Texas. The unlit stadium lights loomed like sentinels over the nearly pitch black field, and in the darkness Jeremy Davis gripped the old bat in one hand and a scrunched up letter in another. Occasionally he swung the bat from his familiar home plate, memories of crushing...

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Set your story on a baseball field.

Submissions are closed

✍️ 39 stories

“Baseballs, Citrus Suckies, Stanley & Me” by Frank Bosworth

“Donuts and Diamonds” by Stephanie Wiese

“Devil in the Dugout” by Don Tucker

“Lefty Mendel” by Eric Ang

“One Last Time ” by John Maes

“Heaven in the Honeysuckle” by Taylor Greny

“Leave it to the Experts” by Colin Strivelli

“Amaretto” by M.A.S Frimpong

“At All Costs” by Tanner Burke

“All Star” by Mary Kurpiewski

“You Can Go Home Again” by Daria White

“Learning to Bat” by Sonali Sinha

“Fantasy Field” by Marissa Ciliberto

“Full Count” by Peyton Bowyer

“Struck Out on a Full Count” by Dhruv Srivastava

🌟 Similar prompts

Start or end your story with someone saying “You’ll never know unless you try.”

Write about somebody who knows they’re probably going to fail at something, but does it anyway.

Write about a character giving something one last shot.

Write a story where hard work doesn’t pay off.

Contest #136

Enter our weekly contest!

$250

Prize money

207

Contest entries

100

Stories

Win $250 in our short story competition 🏆

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