She Blamed it on my PTSD - Sex Stories

She Blamed it on my PTSD

... is at six am. Okay?"

I nodded.

The coach I was following asked, "How's your arm?"

"When I am in shape and throwing I've got a good arm."

"What size bats do you use?"

"K-165, thirty four inch, I sand the handle big knob, so I can yank and a thirty two inch no knob Jackie Robinson."

"Why two?"

"I study pitchers for give ups, moving their hands, or just pitch sequence then I'll hunt breaking pitches and sit on them. If the guy throws hard, the thick handle helps me to be short to the ball, got to be down on time for sure, but I can hit balls out just fine with that bat."

He just looked at me and said, "Huh."

I was out of the door with shoes and mitt, balls and a dirt bag equipment bag. What a rush. I had to get busy. I was sure I could hit still, but had to stay simple.

Everything was in the water by six thirty. I had a little fridge and two hot plates.

I made two peanut butter and jelly sandwich on pumpernickel rye bread. I put shaved lettuce and Spanish peanuts to the mix. Glass of milk too. I had no phone line in the room and I wanted to call somebody, but there was nobody to call. I rejoiced with my sandwiches and milk.

By ten thirty the shoes and the mitt were over the register. And I was on the little half balcony that I got to by crawling out the window with some pillows. I brought my alarm clock too.

I woke up to alarm clock at four thirty. I got back into the room. It was like a sauna, but I put on the steel percolator with some ...

... Folgers. I got the percolator at a St. Vincent de Paul's secondhand place three blocks away from the dormitory for a dollar. It had dents on it but the top fit tight and I got an extra glass nob that sat atop the lid for nothing.

Long story short I made the team as the third catcher behind a senior and a really good sophomore, left handed hitter gap power and could run a little. I think both of them had a shot at least to either get drafted or signed into somebody's system.

The off season was all about lifting, hitting in cages and catching pitcher's bullpens. I loved being on the team, being a part of it. The Navy time was toxic. I still had to go to monthly weekend drills as part of the reserves and in some ways hated that more.

I talked to my grandmother, just in time for her to tell me she was moving back to Seattle.

I asked, "Why are you moving back?"

She said, "Your brother is struggling and her wife needs some help. How is "the bitch"?"

I called her the bitch in my head, because I didn't want to even utter her name in my mind, but I said, "Umm I should have told you, we're divorced. She had an affair and I caught her in bed with the guy, beat him near to death.

She's in Seattle you could look her up. This is a pay phone, I have no phone in my dormitory. My tuition is free by the way and I'm having the time of my life. Here's my address, please write me with your new phone number."

I pursued a degree in economics and got both a bachelor's degree ...