Amari Anne - The Big Leagues -

He was tired. And more than that—he was predictable.

The ball soared toward the left-field corner, a line drive with topspin that kept it just above the outfielder’s desperate leap. It kissed the foul pole— ping —and caromed back onto the field. amari anne - the big leagues

Amari stepped out, tapped her cleats, breathed. In the on-deck circle, the veteran cleanup hitter, Dante “Hammer” Hughes, caught her eye. He didn’t say anything. He just nodded once—a small, almost imperceptible tilt of the chin. You belong here. He was tired