creative-favourite sport

 "You'll love it, trust me." 

Dad's shark-like grin wavered above my head. I tilted my chin up questioningly, crumbs of buttered toast scattering my lap. 

"No."

"Yes. You're going today." I internally groaned, cursing his complacent disposition. "Bring my old baseball glove!" The man chirped as he slipped outside, muffled keys jangling in the hall. 

Ensconced on the car seat, I ignored any piteous drivers who managed to be within reach of my scowl. The weather, unluckily, was as sanguine as my dad's temperament. Sunbeams stretched out over the horizon, casting a convivial glow on my scrunched face.

"Perfect weather for some baseball, huh?" My dad's voice rang out from the front seat. I tossed my head sulkily. Coughing awkwardly, he averted his attention to the baseball field our car approached. The car felt stuffy, my current loathing of him seeming to emanate from the back seat.

The coach's voice warbled on, fading into the background. My mouth dried as I zoned into the baseball bats, dread clawing up my spine. It felt as if I were underwater, my peripherals blurring.

I stood in the middle of the field, baseball bat gripped in both hands. My humid helmet was slicked with sweat. The palpitating sensation in my chest fluttered. The air froze, seeping into my skin. The opposing team's baller, a sick simper plastered on his face, tossed the ball in his hands tauntingly. My baseball bat shivered in my hold, threatening to slip. I swallowed thickly.

The ball swooshed as his arm swung forcefully. It sailed up in the air. Whistling, it shot towards me like a bullet headed towards my doom. 

"You can do it!" My dad's voice called from afar. As soon as the sound penetrated my ears, all my other senses clicked into focus. The ball slowed, down, almost gliding towards my bat. Gritting my teeth, I smashed the bat against the ball. I almost didn't even feel the collision-it felt as if a feather had merely brushed against it.  The ball drifted straight up-yells of amazement filling the air as it travelled over the sky. Relief sank into my shoulders. My dad's exhilarated whoops drowned out the surrounding hubbub. I felt two warm arms encircle me tightly, lifting me slightly off the grass as I spun around. 

Hm. Maybe baseball wasn't that bad after all.