It was a very rainy and gloomy day. The precipitation made the dirt very wet and slimy which turned it into mud. The coverage of the thick stratus clouds made the the sky look like a swirling vortex of wetness. It was also very dark which made visibility very difficult and playing conditions somewhat unsafe. The umpire was wearing a thick black jacket that was covering a large part of his bulky body. The raindrops were dripping down his face mask and clear visor. His gray shoes were also covered in the dark brown coating of the mud. Even though every player was shivering and could see their own breath, the game had to played. I then strapped on my navy blue helmet that was so tight I could barely speak with it on. It was soaked inside and out with fresh rain droplets. The plastic had many scratches and scars all over the helmet. Trying to walk on the muddy field was almost unbearable. Every step you took, your feet would sink in like quicksand. The mud was sticky as a piece of gum which in turn made it stick to everyone’s newly polished metal cleats. Fans from both sides were huddled up underneath tents and tarps to try and keep them dry from the never ending rain. It was very quiet which made every step sound like a loud boom. You could hear the nearby Eastern Bluebirds chirping at their prey. The opposing pitcher was stomping his large feet into the thick pitchers mound. He was very tall and skinny which made him seem like a giant on the mound. The water was dripping down from his creased hat that had a lot of dirt stains. He was rubbing the ball in circles within his shivering hands. His glove was black and was missing a leather string near the thumb side of the right handed mitt. The umpire shouted for us to resume play. I selected my bat; a 29’ red Easton Reflex with a 2 3/4 size barrel. It was badly scuffed mostly around the thin handle. The bat had rain droplets also sliding off the rough coating off the metal alloy it possesed. Approaching the batters box, it was very hard to find. The white chalk lines had been slurred across the entire box. The right handed side of the batters box was like a puddle. The home plate was losing its shine that had been put on before the game. It was quiet like a library. The wind roared past the drenched field and the pitcher was ready to deliver the pitch. The tying run on second base gained a small leadoff. The soaking wet field made it hard to run the bases effectively. It then became very still and the pitcher began his windup.