Baseball Season

This was written for "Invalid Item" 
The goal was to write a realistic scene with plenty of sensory details to put the reader into the scene.


Stepping up onto metal bleachers tracked with muddy footprints, I find my spot. My spot is always the same. I’m comfortable that way. As comfortable as I can be, that is, considering the breeze blowing a dampness that penetrates my skin and makes me shiver. My lightweight light blue jacket over my T-shirt and underneath my heavyweight dark blue baseball jacket should keep me warm enough, and I pull it closed with icy fingers. But it doesn’t.

Ignoring the chill of dirty metal invading the seat of my jeans, I prop my feet up onto the bench in front, noticing that my black Reeboks are in need of cleaning. I realize it’s not going to happen. The dirt will have to just give up and fall off when it’s ready. There are always too many other things that need to be done.

Accepting the scorebook from the coach, I hold down the pages to keep them from whipping in the breeze that steadily gets stronger, and fill in the empty blanks with names of young boys I don’t know, and my son’s. The beginning of baseball season both chills me and keeps me warm.