Querencina Final Draft.

As I came out of the dugout, the worries of my troubled past zips past me like a fastball coming from the pitcher on the mound. The cheers of the thousands of fans echo in the crowded stadium as my team takes the field. As we jog out to the field I thought to myself was that right here, this place is a place where I can be myself, because everyone is treated equally. There are no favorites.  All the expectations are true for all.  There's only equality and a bat, ball, glove, and your team. It feels welcoming once I walk out my car door; the friendly parents of my teammates greet me on and off to the field.
 The sound of my coaches voice makes me shiver in fear, as he repeatedly tells me “it makes you tougher Isaiah, suck it up”. The sight of a tough guy attitude with tobacco container in hand spitting constantly, sunglass always on, the impression of the hulk instills fear in my mind. I see my coach three time a week, three hours a day, hitting in the cage until your fingers feel numb. As I look down the long line for the water jug, I hear the him saying, "What's the scoop? or "Chief!" His high pitch chuckle rings in my ears as he tell us what to do, 

Piles of newly eaten sunflower seeds fill the floor of the dugout. Dust and dirt fly here and there. The garbage can fills-up with Gatorade cups. Metal cleats drag out of the dugout. The voice of the umpire calls out "Safe","Out","Strike THREE!"  When someone asks about my special place these images flood my mind and I smile.