莫以胜负定输赢.docVIP

莫以胜负定输赢 　　Blood streamed down the cloth of her immaculate2） jersey3） and onto the sandy dirt. It flowed from her face like relentless4） tears. She lay prostrate5）， vulnerable， painfully helpless. Then the ambulance came and rolled her away. A man raked6） the circle of blood off the field. 　　Some people say hardball is not a sport. Some believe girls arent tough enough. Valley High School varsity7） player Christy Connor would beg to differ8）. Her weapon was her bat. Her drive was her need for victory. Her power？ Well， that was just her broad shoulders， long legs， and strong body. Christy Connor was an athlete. She was tough enough to take our Pundit High varsity pitcher9） out for the season. 　　Christy stepped inside the lines of the White Rectangle of Doom. She readied her bat and cocked10） it between her shoulders， with her hands in close proximity to11） her ears. Our pitcher signaled her pitch to the catcher. The catcher nodded and the pitch was released. Smash. This was the sound of the ball off the bat， making its way to our pitchers nose. Crack. This was the sound of her nose breaking， flattening across her face. Thud12）. This was the sound of her body hitting the ground， in the time span of only three seconds. Then only silence was heard. The crowd stood， mouths open and eyes bulged13）. Hearts fell to the floor and hands covered heads in distress. The Pundit team gathered together and turned away from the mound14）. Our fallen soldier screamed. 　　Go warm up， the coach said to me. 　　These three words made an impression on me that I would never forget. I processed them for a minute. Warm up？ I thought. I was the second pitcher in line， weighing in at only one hundred pounds， equipped with a nose that could be shattered by a landing butterfly. I was the only one there with trembling hands and a mortified15） mind. The pitchers blood had just been spewed16） across the infield17）. I was the next pitcher. It wasnt exactly a difficult connection to make. My eye