Baseball was Race's game.
Albert was good at basketball. Jojo was a volleyball legend but boy oh boy could Race run.
Race ran like the fucking wind and his hand eye coordination was good enough that it got him on the baseball team every year. It was Race's third year on the team and he was geared up. This was the game that would decide who went to states, there was no room to make mistakes.
It was an unusually humid day, and Race's team was warming up on the diamond. Their opponents were sure to be there soon enough but Race was starting to wonder if they'd ever show up when their bus pulled up.
That gave them at least fifteen minutes until game time. Race jogged over to the bleachers where his friends were sitting. They assured him that he'd do great and wished him good luck before sending him off. The game began shortly after that.
The scores kept roughly even the whole time but in the end the other team was winning by the skin of their teeth. 16-18 Race's team was losing, the bases were loaded and he was up to bat.
Now it should be mentioned that the baseball diamond they were playing on was not their usual one. The Little league had taken their preferred one.
There was nothing extraordinarly wrong with the baseball diamond the fences were just a little wonky. They jutted out roughly from home plate to 1st base and from home base to third leaving the outfield open.
So Race was up to bat, bases loaded with barely any time left in the last inning, it was now or never. A bead of sweat dripped down the side of his face, he could see Finch on second base watching him intently, ready to make a mad dash for home base.
The sun was beating down on Race and everything seemed to slow down for a second. His friends, teammates, and coaches were shouting encouragement; it wasn't helping. The pitcher wound up and threw the ball.
Race hit it with all his might. He didn't even look to see where the ball went, the satisfying crack of the bat against the ball reassuring him that he'd probably hit it far.
Sure enough as he sprinted for first base he saw it on the very edge of the outfield. Race knew he had time so he based first base without a pause doing the same with second base. An outfielder had picked up the ball but was apparently blinded by the sun as he tried to throw the ball to his teammate but missed sorely.
Race raced passed third base, this point would win them the game, he turned around to see who had the ball.
He turned back around just in time to run face first into the metal fence at a solid 17 miles per hour.
Race didn't really comprehend what was happening.
Everything went silent except for an echoing ringing in his ears. Race thought he'd just tripped or something and although his face hurt like hell and his hearing had only half faded back in, he rolled right back on his feet and kept running.
Race slid into homebase his face covered in blood, his white and blue baseball uniform covered head to toe in dust and sand, and yet still he still looked determined and confident.
That is how the iconic photo hanging in the library came to be. No one knew much about the kid in the picture from so many years ago, that is, except for you and me. You know Racetrack Higgins just as much as I do, but now he's not much more then a memory in the minds of starry eyed freshman joining the baseball team. But sometimes on the sunniest most humid days its rumored that you can here the clanging of Racetrack Higgins himself colliding face first with the metal fence on the now retired baseball diamond.
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I personally thought this was fucking hilarious
Yours Truly,
Alex Hask
