Excerpt: Pitching the Dream

It was warm mid spring in the mid afternoon as Jeremy ran to class. There was only one place that he wanted to be right now and his class was not that one thing. As he leapt down steps and over some bushes on campus Jeremy could still faintly hear the noises from the diamond receding behind him. The faint cheering crowd told him that the game was closing into a solid victory.
Jeremy flipped out his phone as he narrowly missed a professor and TA. He didn’t have time to dial as a text chimed. He slowed half a pace so he could read the updated score. A slam to a wide gap in the outfield allowed two runners in with a man on second. This would certainly be a solid victory. Jeremy smiled as he folded the phone back into his pocket. He released a slight jump as he increased his speed.
He rounded the corner of the final building and slid through the closing glass doors. Jeremy immediately had to change speed when his shoes began to slip over the tile floor. He hadn’t realized that skirting so close to sprinklers on campus would leave so much water and mud stuck to his shoes. He stopped too quickly before the door to his class and slid past the door. He barely caught the edge of the door frame as he heard the chuckling of a few of his classmates. He wasn’t sure if they were laughing that he was late yet again or that he had almost missed the door and landed on the ground. Either way, Jeremy feigned composure as he avoided his professor's glare while sliding into a seat in the middle of the rows of desks.
“Ah, yes. Jeremy. I was wondering when you were going to grace us with your presence,” the professor said with a wheezy sneer.
“Sorry Professor,” Jeremy panted. “The game went a little long.”
“Game? What game?” the professor asked impatiently.
“Baseball sir,” supplied Jeremy.
“A baseball game?” huffed the professor. “Couldn’t you have just recorded it off of the TV?”
“Oh no sir,” Jeremy said with a grin. “It’s a home game. Here,” Jeremy said as though this should have been apparent. “And,” Jeremy paused while pulling out his chiming phone, “we just struck out their last three at bats very quickly to finish it off,” he said proudly before silencing the phone and returning it to his pocket.
“And you couldn’t wait to read it in school paper in the morning or get the results from that deplorable device in your pocket,” the professor provided as a statement and not a question.
“Oh no. I have to be there in person when they play at home,” Jeremy answered with his grin spreading.
“And risk failing my class?” the professor asked over his chalk dust tipped glasses.
“Well, yeah,” Jeremy said dumbfounded. “It’s baseball. It’s America’s favorite pastime.”
“If all my students had that sort of passion for this subject I would be learning from them,” the professor grumbled as he turned back to the board.
Jeremy settled into his seat while pulling out his notebook.
“Now, if you don’t mind Jeremy,” he said looking over his shoulder as he raised his hand to the board, “With your permission I would like to get back to my class.”
“Uh, sure, no problem. Just remember,” he said looking around at the class, “they play again tomorrow at 7.” Jeremy turned back to his incredulous professor and waved him on, “You may continue.”
The professor mimicked a large mouth bass for a few seconds before spinning back to the board with a muttered “Hurumph.”