The sound of a strong wind, then the explosion, as the baseball hit just above my left eye near the temple.
Looking up surrounded by coaches, players, police, ice being applied, hearing let's get him to the hospital.
Like still frames of a slide show; inside a police car, lying on a gurney looking at bright lights, x-ray equipment, then finally full consciousness, waking up on a hospital bed the next day. Covered in sweat from the game, wondering how a hospital gown had replaced my baseball uniform.
Ecept for its significance, "one moment, the glory of athletic success, the next moment, lucky to be alive" the memory of the event itself lies dormant. After reading Heart of the Game by S. L. Price, the reality of my good fortune rose from the dormant state to become fresh, as if it had happened yesterday.
Always aware of its influence on my life's decisions, I am now energized with a renewed conviction to make the most of each day.
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