Part I: An unsung hero
“Strike three! You're out.” The umpire shouts out as the batter struck out.
"Come on! You’ve got to be kidding me!" The coach yelled and threw his hat to the ground. "Well boys, it’s not looking good." He wearily told the players.
It was the bottom of the 9th with 2 strikes, and the final batter was about the come up to the plate. The score was 3 to 2 with a runner on the base. A walk off home run would be needed to win. The crowd was filled with mixed emotions. The closing pitcher had just struck out the team’s two best players and was looking to put the game away.
"What are we going to do, coach?" One of the players asked.
"I don't know. It's not looking good." The coach scratched his head. "It's the national championship and we've come so far…” “But it's not over yet. We've still got one more shot. Where’s Gibson? He's our best hitter." He scanned the bench of players.
"Did you forget he's out with a stomach bug?"
"What!?" He shouted. "I told that fool to stay off the seafood, but nooooo!"
"So, now what?" The player asked
"Um, let's see we could, maybe… No. We already used Smith. Hmm... Oh! How about Lawrence?"
"Coach, I was just struck out!"
"Oh I give up. it's over." He rubbed his hat in the dirt, voice filled with disappointment. "Chase, you're batting up"
Chase had a shocked look on his face. "Me? I'm the rookie. This is my first game and you want me to hit a game winner?"
The two argued back and forth, when all of a sudden they hear someone, or something, clear their throat. The team looks to their left and sees a little red potato with a butt chin.
"You guys need a hitter? Well, you're in luck!"
Part II: Batter up
"A talking potato?" The coach said. "I must be dreaming."
"There's no dream here." The talking potato rebutted, "You're looking at the real deal. Now, enough talking. It seems that you and your boys are having some trouble here. Maybe I can help?"
"Oh, yeah? A tiny tater tot is gonna help us? Please. You look like you can't even pick up the bat." One of the players jeered with a scoff, prompting a few others to join in.
The talking potato brushed off the insult. "Oh, is that so? Well, we’re just gonna have to see about that."
"I just got one question. How did you get past security?" The coach asked.
"That’s not important.” The red tuber waved his hand. “Now, lets go win this game!"
The coach scratched his chin, deep in thought for a second. “Hmm, I don't know. Can we even allow a potato on the field?"
"Come on, coach" A shout came from the player’s bench. "This little guy looks like he's a ball of energy. Besides, do you really want to put the championship on the line with a rookie?"
"You're right." The coach nodded. "Alright. What's your name kid?"
"Spud. Spud Spudstein, sir!"
"Alright, Spudstein, you're up next!"
Part III: Thank fast
After talking with the ump, the potato was on his way to the plate. "And it looks like there's a potato up to bat?" The announcer said confused, and holding back laughter.
The other team’s coach was not amused by it. "Hey! No way ump! That’s a potato. He's not a part of their team."
“He's a sub!" The home team coach argued. "One of our player was under the weather, so he's filling in."
"What a load of horse crap. Surely, you don't believe this. Right, ump?"
The away team coach lost this battle as the ump allowed the game to resume while the announcer filled the crowd in on the updates. "Alright, folks. Well, it appears the potato’s name is Spud Spudstein. He’s filling in for Gibson, who is out with a stomach bug. So, Spud will bat for him and with this, he’ll need a home run to win the game."
The pitcher was confused, but locked in. He threw a fastball, which caught Spud off guard.
Strike one!
“Whoa. That was fast." Spud thought to himself and shrugged it off as he readied his bat again.
The pitcher threw a change up.
Strike two!
The coach and the team were stunned. “Oh no." The coach leaned over the railing, feeling hopeless.
“Come on, Spud. Focus! You’ve got this!" The potato said to himself. He closed his eyes and quieted his mind, an unusual feeling for Spud.
"That's right! You got him right where you want him!" The away coach cheered. "Now, put him out and bring home the bacon!"
The pitcher, with a giant smile on his face, readied himself to throw another fastball. At that moment, the crowd was booing Spud, fueling the tuber’s desire to win. As soon as the pitcher let go of the ball, everything was slow motion for Spud. He saw the ball clear as day and was locked on his target. Spud put all his strength and swung.
CRACK!
A loud crack rang throughout the stadium. "Drive to left center field. It might go...it's out of here! Home run! Dinos win! The Dinos win."
The crowd went crazy and the team ran on the field to pick up Spud. The away team looked utterly defeated, unable to believe what happened. The team started to chant, “Spud! Spud! Spud! Spud!
"Well, do you believing miracles folks? This little unsung hero has just brought a championship to this wonderful town."
Part IV: Most Valuable Potato
After the celebration was over, Spud was getting his things out of the locker room when the coach stopped him.
"Hey, Spud. I just wanna say thanks for the big play. For a second there, I thought you were gonna blow it." He chuckled.
"Me? fail? Spud never fails." The tuber grinned widely as he packed the last of his things into his bag.
The coach nodded, “Yeah, I guess you are the M.V.P.: the most valuable potato!"
"Aw, come on. You guys were good too. Just remember, whenever things look tough, channel your inner Spud." He gave a thumbs up after sliding his backpack on.
"Will do."
After his words of wisdom, Spud headed for the bus to find his next destination. The team and the city were forever grateful for Spud’s walk off home run. People still talk about it to this day and a statue of Spud was built outside of the stadium.