Father Mulcahy at batcheerychaplainSeptember 3 2009, 02:20:13 UTC
Father Mulcahy pulls his cap down more securely over his ears, fixes his glasses, swings the bat up over his shoulder, and steps in at the plate. He looks out at the people in the field, the sunlight, the green grass, and he smiles. Right then!
The first pitch blows past him, and his eyes widen a little.
On the second one, he has a better idea of the speed to expect, but he swings and -- more through luck than skill -- connects. It's a long fly ball to center field, and Father Mulcahy drops the bat and takes off for first.
Re: Father Mulcahy at batcheerychaplainSeptember 3 2009, 02:31:15 UTC
Father Mulcahy was rounding first by the time the ball made contact with the glove. He tips his cap to the centerfielder and jogs back to the Enigmas' bench, grinning all the while. He's never been terribly good at the competitive part of sports; out or not, it's a beautiful day for baseball.
The first pitch blows past him, and his eyes widen a little.
On the second one, he has a better idea of the speed to expect, but he swings and -- more through luck than skill -- connects. It's a long fly ball to center field, and Father Mulcahy drops the bat and takes off for first.
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It's an easy catch and easier out. Carlisle holds the ball up in his glove for inspection of the masses.
And then he realizes who he just called out, and looks a little stricken.
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