Beanball Read Online Free PDF

hours.
    Dr. Yang was on call in the ER.
    He had to insert a cranial drain
    to reduce the swelling in Luke’s brain.
    Luke almost didn’t survive the night.
    The bleeding and swelling seem under control now.
    He appears to be out of danger
    with no apparent brain damage.
    Â 
    The bad news:
    Splintered orbital bones make for a long
    and painful recovery time.
    Worse still, we won’t be able
    to save the sight in Luke’s left eye.
Larry Wallace, Luke’s father
    How can we tell Luke?
    It’ll kill him.
    How can we tell him he’ll have sight in only one eye?
    All he’s worked for, all he’s dreamed of,
    his whole future—gone.
    Â 
    I shouted at the doctor.
    I demanded to know what they’d done wrong.
    I tried to get them to tell me there was something
    they could do to save Luke’s sight.
    Was everybody in that hospital incompetent?
    Â 
    It took a few hours before I could think straight
    and apologize for how I’d acted, for the things I’d said.
    If
I
can’t control my rage, what can I expect from Luke
    when he hears those words:
    â€œblind in one eye”?
    Â 
    We’ll all be there when the doctor tells him.
    We’ll all be there when he learns
    that his life has changed forever.
Michelle Wallace, Luke’s mother
    I feel like a hypocrite, Lord.
    Forgive these thoughts I’ve been having.
    It’s just that I suddenly have a hard time believing
    the lessons I’ve preached
    to my Sunday school classes all these years.
    Â 
    It’s easy to believe, in the abstract,
    that You’re always with us,
    that You meet our every need.
    If somebody else’s son were being operated on,
    I’d tell his family, “Just have faith.
    God is with you. He’ll make everything all right.”
    But it’s
my
son, and what if You can’t,
    or won’t, make everything all right?
    Â 
    How can I face my class again?
    What can I possibly tell them
    that I don’t, deep down, feel is a lie?
    Help me understand.
    Â 
    I know I don’t deserve to ask You to heal Luke.
    But Luke’s deserving. He is.
    I’m begging You: Please help him.
Luke “Wizard” Wallace
    They acted like it was good news
    when they told me I’d be blind in one eye.
    They had these smiles pasted on.
    Good news.
    Sure.
    Â 
    After they left,
    I had all night to lie here thinking
    about how I’ve lost everything.
    The pills they gave me finally made me sleep,
    but I even dreamed about what blindness would be like.
    Â 
    While I’m here, they might as well cut off an arm or leg.
    Without depth perception, you can’t hit a baseball
    or catch one, either.
    College basketball is out.
    Football? I don’t know.
    With only one good eye,
    is it possible to run the ball
    and sense the exact moment your blocker
    gives you the smallest of openings to shoot through?
    Is it possible to make a crisp block?
    Or catch a pass?
    Â 
    There’s hardly been a school day in years
    when I haven’t had practice or a game in some sport.
    What now?
    I don’t think I could stand just watching the games,
    knowing I should be out there playing.
    Â 
    â€œBe thankful you’re alive.”
    I’ll scream if I hear that again.
    I swear I will.
    Doesn’t anybody know there’s a big difference
    between being alive and
living?
Larry Wallace, Luke’s father
    Great news!
    The doctor says if there are no complications,
    Luke can be moved from the ICU tomorrow.
    Â 
    It’s the most encouraging thing that’s happened
    since Luke got here.
Craig Foltz, Oak Grove second baseman
    My old man doesn’t work Saturdays,
    so he let me take his truck.
    I figured it was time I saw Luke.
    I owed him that much.
    It was my fault he got hurt.
    Â 
    I booted a ball in the sixth.
    Cost us two runs.
    We shouldn’t even have had to bat in the seventh.
    Â 
    If they hadn’t told me it was him in that bed,
    I wouldn’t have known