I’ve had two girls in my life, Memo and Iris. Memo was all worked up when Bump died and what I didn’t know for a long time was that she blamed me for his death. I though she was very pretty and decided to try and get her to like me. I tried comforting her and tried to get close to her a little after Bump’s death but she blew me off. I started to send her things and about a month after she started talking to me. I brought her to a pond and after a romantic moment she said her breast hurt so we left. She was driving all over the place really fast with the lights off and hit something. I thought it was a person but there wasn’t any blood on the bumper so we drove around looking for the body if there was one. I hit a tree in a momentary lapse of judgment and go a black eye and Memo hurt her breast. Then we got to the hotel late and I got in trouble from Pop. He said I shouldn’t hang around with Memo because she wasn’t right. After that I asked her to go out again but she said she was going out with Gus. Some time later I went on a date with Iris Lemon. In the stands she looked good but when I saw her up close I was disappointed, she wasn’t as thin as Memo but she was attractive. She talked to me about my slump and told me I had to do better because I was letting people down. We made love on the beach. Iris gave me a letter but I decided not to read it yet and Iris now seems like a bad idea because she is a grandmother. I don’t want to look any older than I am. Memo came and visited me in Boston and I made a move on her. I got blown off again. A little later I got invited to Memo’s house to eat a buffet after I followed Memo to her room but my stomach exploded in pain. Memo came and gave me flowers. I asked her to marry me but she says she doesn’t want to be poor. She then says she was sent by the judge and Gus to ask me to throw the game. I refused and she left. After the judge visited me I decided to take the bribe and Memo told me I was wonderful. After that I opened Iris’ letter and it talked about how she dealt with a child being so young. I threw the letter out. I lost the game and went up to the Judge’s box to confront him. A fight ensued and Memo tried to shoot me. She told me she hated me after I had killed Bump. I left and that was the last I saw of her.
My baseball career was a rocky one. I joined the Knight’s at the age of 34 for 3,000. The day after I joined the team played so many practical jokes on me. I had to go to batting practice and showed how good I was. I hit every pitch out of the park of our ace. The team starts to play a little better but was still losing. One game Bump miss’s a catch and Pop put me in. I hit a homer. Bump then injuries himself and I take his spot in the lineup. I did really good hitting homers a lot. I started to break records the more I played. Bump died and I permanently took his place on the field. I kept doing well and finally people saw I was better than Bump. I still won’t bunt because it won’t help my record and will only bat with Wonderboy. We began to win a lot of games just because of me. We moved into 6th but I wanted more money. I went to the Judge for more but only made him angry. The fans made Roy day for me because I’m so good. After a bad date with Memo I go into a slump. People think something is troubling me and that I should fix it quick. I saw a dark haired lady in the stands stand up for me and I finally hit a home run. After that we started to move towards first place again. My stomach exploded in pain on a date with Memo so I went to the hospital. The doctor finally said I could play in our playoff game. The Judge asked me to throw the game for money and I said yes. During the game I do badly missing catches and striking out. I felt bad about this so I started to try. Our pitcher started trying and also had been bribed. The last at bat I struck out. We lost. I went to the Judges box and fought him. I felt horrible about throwing the game and it ended my baseball career.
Posted by TheNat6571 at 4:57 PM 0 comments
Saturday, December 2, 2006
My Best Friend
I have really had only one true friend my entire life. His name was Sam Simpson, and he was an ex-major league catcher turned scout. He played for the St. Louis Browns in the seasons of 1919 to 1921, batting .340, .260, and .198, and he never made an error in his entire short career. He was a great guy. I met him when I was 18, during my senior year in high school. After I pitched my eighth no-hitter, he came up to me, interested in signing me to play in the big leagues. At first we were just to businessmen, talking to each other about maoney and baseball, but before long we became good friends. Because my father moved me around in orphanages until I was a teenager, I had never really had a true friend before, someone I could talk to and trust. Then I met Sam, and my life was drastically changed for the better. Then came the fateful day when I lost my best friend forever. It all started when we were on the train to Chicago, heading to my tryout with the Cubs. He bet ten dollars that I could strike out "Whammer" Wambold, the reigning MVP of the American League. He would catch while I pitched to the Whammer. I did end up striking out Wambold, but my last pitch, a rising fastball, hit Sam in the chest, lifting him up off his feet. Fortunately enough, his chest was covered by a washboard, but even that didn't help very much.That night, my best friend died. I was there with him, and when I realized that he was dying, I didn't want to try out any more. But he told me I had to, and to do as he said. Then, just like that, I was all alone in the world again. The next day I was shot and didn't fully recover for fifteen years, so overall I can say that that wasn't one of my better weeks.
Posted by TheNat6571 at 9:56 AM 0 comments
Friday, December 1, 2006
My Sad Past
Now that I got the chance to be the baseball star I always dreamed to be, I can finally look back at my past and laugh at how bad it was back then. That’s nothing, compared to the way I feel now. My mother wasn’t such a great one, and after she and my grandma died, my old man dumped me in one orphan home after the other, wherever he happened to be working – when he did – though he did used to take me out of there summers and teach me how to play ball. While I played in the Northwest High School League I got eight no-hitters, and I was discovered by Sam Simpson, a scout who was my best friend in the world. (more about him later) However, he died on the way to my first baseball tryout. Thus began what was the worst two days of my life. I was just a kid and I got shot by this batty dame on the night before my tryout, and after that I just couldn’t get started again. I lost my confidence, and everything I did flopped. This is the shame of my life, that I am always fated to be defeated in sight of my goal, no matter what it may be. Fifteen or so years later, I was in my mid-thirties, when I finally returned to baseball. I had worked hard to regain my confidence, to return it to where it had been. I also had my favorite bat, Wonderboy. I made it long ago, when I was a kid. I wanted it to be a good bat and that’s why I gave it that name. This tree by the river where I lived was split by lightning. I liked the wood inside of it so I cut me out a bat. Hadn’t used it much until I played semipro ball, but I always kept it oiled with sweet oil and boned it so it wouldn’t chip. Finally, I had made it to the big leagues. Once I made it onto the team, my dream finally started to come true. I set records in hits, doubles, triples, batting average, runs batted in, stolen bases, and nearly every other batting statistic you can think of. But stupidly enough, once the regular season ended, I still wanted more. More money, that is. We had tied in first place, due mainly to my amazing hitting, but I accepted a deal of thirty-five thousand dollars from the owner of the team to throw the playoff game. That is what I regret the most in my entire life. Like I said before, it seemed that my fate was to be defeated in sight of my goal. When the league found out I had thrown the game, the commissioner made a statement saying that “If this alleged report is true, that is the last of Roy Hobbs in organized baseball. He will be excluded from the game and all his records forever destroyed.” And he lived up to his word. Now I have lost everything, and it will take another decade or two for me to regain the confidence to show my face in public again.
english project.....enjoy
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