From The Other Side

Clang. Isaiah Carr flung his bat to the ground and darted off from home base to first, cleats dragging through the sand and stabbing into second base. A gruff voice shouted "safe!" and Isaiah pulled himself to his feet, dusting the burnt orange dirt off his previously-white pants.
His heart was pounding against his ribcage; the thump thump thump of his heartbeat thrumming in his ears. Hands on his knees he shuffled between second and third, eyes on multiple things at once. The second baseman's presence behind him, the pitcher's stance, the batter's swing. Number twelve's bat cracked against the fastball, the sound echoing through the air, scattered cheers following it. Isaiah took off to third, and with time left, finished to home, garnering a familiar whistle from his father in the stands. He smiled as he jogged into the dugout.
