Enjoy Michael's piece. His author's note is also very impressive. Love the title in this piece!
Four By Six
Michael Ng
The field was a haven. It’s my home away from home. It was never too hot, there was always shade from trees, yet never too cool. The green turf as far as the eye could see, the bright bleachers underneath the overhang. Being there, I felt like I was the baseball in the pitcher’s hand. Weaving my way past catchers, those that would stop me from flying high.
I clutched the flyer mother received in the mail the day before tightly in my hand. Standing amongst the towers of high schoolers, crowding around the small wooden table, I tried to push my way to the front. No use.
“TWEEEEE!” The sound of the whistle pierced through the air. The chatter died, and was replaced by silence. The only sound was the coach standing up from his chair.
The sun’s rays glared down from the sky. They reflected against the red and white ‘HIGH SCHOOL BASEBALL TRYOUT SIGNUP’ laminated sign, hanging on the front of the table.
“Alraigh’ everyone, get in line,” the baseball coach boomed, his shiny silver whistle at the ready in his hand. People began shuffling about, all pushing to get to the front of the line. Once everyone eventually got into a line, I found myself at the very back.
Ma was bouncing off the wall when she came home that day. She excitedly handed the flyer to me. “High school Baseball Team Tryouts!” she said excitedly. She had always pushed me to go for the impossible. After all, I had only gotten back from my third day of the sixth grade. I stood no chance against these huge monsters of muscle! Sure, I had played baseball since I was little, but against high schoolers, with at least four more years of experience, and muscle? No way. I shook my head and handed the flyer back to Ma.
Quickly, the line began to get shorter and shorter. It only took a few
seconds for each person to fill out their registration form. I heard the quiet buzz around me, and people looking at me out of the corner of their eyes. Though I felt out of place, I stood my ground and didn’t let them make me get out of the line. I was the knight in shining armor, from my favourite stories, unwilling to let the ferocious dragons eat me.
I arrived to school the very next morning. Unpacking my bag, I carefully placed my homework on my desk, and put my lunchbag and water bottle underneath the seat. I took my pencil case out, and put it inside my table. Staring out the window at the beautiful grass fields around the school, I was suddenly filled remorse. I regretted not, at least, trying to apply for the high school varsity. I wanted to go for it, it had been my lifelong dream to become a famous baseball player. I supposed, it was too late now.
I carried my backpack to my locker, but as I was closing the locker door, I noticed the red flyer clamped inside my notebook. The same one that Ma had handed to me the day before. I carefully pulled it out of the notebook, and found the sticky note Ma had put on it. “Hun, I thought you might need this when you got to school. Smiling, I folded the flyer into four and slipped it into my pocket.
I approached the front of the line. The man in front of me whispered, his eyes thin, “Kid. I think you’ve come to the wrong place. This is the varsity team, not the little league.” I shook my head. He shrugged his shoulders then turned back around. He twirled the pencil in his hand. That’s when I realized- I didn’t have a pencil. I couldn’t apply without one! Panicking, my eyes flew across the entire fields, looking for the bright glare of the sun reflecting off the metal eraser holder on the back of the pencil. Not one. I was too afraid to ask any of the high schoolers to borrow one- they’d probably tell me to get lost. I was three people to the front.
I tapped the boy in front of me. He turned around, with an arched eyebrow. “Yes?”
In a shaky voice, I whispered, “Might you have an extra pencil I could please borrow? I’ll give it right back to y-” Without letting me finish, he pulled a pencil out of a pocket in his shorts and handed it to me. He nodded, then turned back around.
Two people to the front. I began to imagine what it would be like to have made it on the team. I visioned myself on the school newspaper’s headlines: “Justin Mahone- Middle School Superstar makes it to High School Baseball Team” I imagine myself getting an interview from Jimmy Fallon on Saturday Night Live, then making my way to Los Angeles and being on the Ellen Show.
“Oi, kid! Watchu’ doing here?” The coach leaned on his desk and glared at me. His huge figure barely fit on the chair, the table creaked under his weight.
“I-I’m here to r-register for the team,” I stuttered, my heartbeat pounding. The coach rolled his eyes, and sighed.
“Listen, kid. Little league is over there. Not here. I ain’t letting you go for the team.”
I shook my head, smiled, and wrote my name on the registration sheet. Rolling his eyes once again, the coach dismissed me with a wave of his hand.
I took the four inch by six inch crumpled flyer out of my pocket. “Thanks, Mom,” I whispered. It was the ticket to my destiny. It determined where I ended up. And I had just used it. I was aboard the train to my future. Folding it back into four, I shoved it deep into my pocket and walked back to the concrete mass of my school.
Dear Publisher,
Throughout our lives, we have many opportunities, whether they pop up on television, in the mail, or from your teacher. Some will come and go, oh so quickly, others will linger before vanishing. Sometimes, we just ignore these opportunities, other times, we prevented from reaching the opportunity. Good opportunities aren’t ‘handed’ to you. They are reached for and they are fought for.
“Four by Six” is the last story I expected myself to write. I’m not a ‘sporty’ type of person. I had previously developed my idea from a character in a prison, which turned into a kid in a classroom wanting to write a letter to his grandmother, then this.
In “Four by Six”, the main character, Justin receives a flyer from his mother, about the high school baseball team registration. The flyer is the ‘important item’ that is tracked across the entire story. It followed him from the second the mother gave it to him, into his backpack, and in and out of his pocket.
The title connects to the entire story. The title represents the flyer, as well. The flyer practically symbolized the entire story- how the character decided to go apply for the high school team, when he was only a middle schooler, then going to go on in the future and get better at baseball. Because of this, I decided to have the title represent the most important part of my story- at least that’s what I thought.
The character faces three main problems within this story. First, he didn’t have the flyer. This was resolved when his mother slipped it into his backpack. Second, he didn’t have a pencil. Thankfully, the boy in front of him had an extra one. Finally, the coach didn’t let him apply, at first. This was also tied in with everyone else looking and whispering about his age. This problem was the main conflict and also the social issue portrayed within this story, about ageism. How people discriminate others based on their age, not based on their skills or motivation.
The lead technique that I used was called a ‘leisurely lead.’ It’s called this because I slowly began to introduce the setting, the baseball field, and the character as well. Other craft moves that I had used included symbolism; such as the flyer, as well as the pencil, which represented the creation of an opportunity. It represented how the character strode and grasped the opportunity, and got what he wanted.
In summary, this story truly is about how, only when you strive for your goals will you ever reach them.
Sincerely,
Michael N.
