The smell of dirt and freshly cut grass fill the air.
I look around the familiar setting;
Chalk lines, bases, fans.
I take it all in, this is my last time afterall.
Fourteen of my eighteen years of life
Have been dedicated to this game.
The field is where I feel most comfortable,
Where I feel free.
Nothing is better than fielding that ball
And throwing that girl out at first base.
The knowledge that this is my last game is there,
The understanding has not yet hit me.
I move to my position, my team, no,
My family out there with me.
As the game nears the end,
The understanding of what it means
Finally makes its way to me.
This is it, the end.
The final play has been made,
There is nothing left but beautiful memories.