The Molly Chronicles - Play Ball

           

 We'd won the World Series - Heroes in the eyes of the nation. All of us together - a team of champions! What a feeling! Better than the finest liver snacks at Pet Smart.

            Such good times! Those were the days of wine and doughnuts. They were not to last.

            Dr. Juriceck approached me in the locker room, and I could read from the look in his eyes and the tightness in his jaw that he had something terrible to say.

            I licked his nose, trustingly, and he rubbed the fur on my neck. "Molly," he began, then broke down, sobbing unashamedly.

            "Molly, your jaw can't take it. Even with the mouth guard, those supercanine smashes - those jarring hits - the bat against the ball. If only you'd held back just a little... but that's not your style, is it? I can't, in good conscience, let you play next year." The tears flowed unchecked down his cheeks, and he buried his face into my neck.

            I hung  my head, my ears pressed flat back in sorrow. But I knew, even as my soul rebelled,  that he was right. I remembered my mouth throbbing for days after some of my more powerful hits....  Only a week ago, I'd refused a ham bone; the pain of chewing was too intense."

            "What about Shadow?"  I asked.

            Dr. Juraceck shook his head. "Maybe, some years down the road when we've perfected the mouth guard, there will be canine baseball players again. But, as for you and Shadow, your careers are over."

            Now as I reflect on my season with the Sox, I know that I was one of the lucky ones. I had my days of glory. It's right that the baton be passed to some young human, some crazy kid with nothing but a ball, a dream, and a heart as big as Massachusetts.

            But Shadow's amazing accomplishments will not be forgotten. He is to be inducted into Baseball's Hall of Fame in Cooperstown, New York, where the baseball greats are immortalized.

             We'll always remember them: Babe Ruth, Joe DiMaggio, Willie Mays, Hank Aaron, and Shadow.

Human's Note: Apologies to the Boston Red Sox, the San Francisco Giants, the St. Louis Cardinals, and to baseball in general. It seems that Molly got carried away again. The Boston Red Sox won the 2013 World Series in six games, and without any help from Molly and Shadow. Yadier Molina never stepped on Molly's tail, nor did he ever, to my knowledge, knock out a catcher. Dogs are not eligible to play on major league baseball teams (spitball issues aside.) Shadow can, however, carry two tennis balls in him mouth at the same time.

The Molly Chronicles - Play Ball

            And seemingly out of nowhere, Shadow was there. He lunged at the ball, still in the air,  and caught it just before it passed by second base. He snapped around for the throw to home plate for the final out, but there was no one to throw to. Our catcher was down. Dan Butler was lying in a daze just behind home plate. In spite of the padding, Yadier Molina's bat had struck him in the back of the head, knocking him out cold.  Meanwhile Matt Holliday had tagged third base, and was now barreling toward home plate.

"Holliday's tagged the base. Holliday has gone back and tagged the base; he can score."

  "And that's the game right there folks.  Holliday will score. The Cardinals will  win it all, the inning, the game and World Series,  four games  to three. A shame folks. You hate to see a game won by because of an injury. But wait. It's not over yet. Here's Shadow running for home plate."

            Now the announcer was screaming into the mike - one beat shy of a heart attack.  

" Impossible! Bats and baseballs, look at that canine run! Folks, he's pouring everything he has into it. But can he possibly get there in time? The Red Sox's only hope rests on the back of that brave Labrador Retriever running the race of his life."

            My heart was in my mouth as Shadow raced towards home plate,  the ball clutched fast in his teeth.  He was lighting fast, but he had so much ground to cover. Could he make it?

"And it looks like that's the game, folks. Shadow gave it his all, but there's just too much ground to cover. Holliday will score."

            But I had faith in Shadow. Faster still, he ran. Now he was just a furry blur racing towards home plate. With a final supercanine lunge, he pawed the plate a nose ahead of Matt Holliday and tagged him out.

"He's done it! Shadow's run has put the Red Sox back in business. And so the game goes into overtime."

            The tenth inning was scoreless.            In the eleventh inning, Shadow hit a double, then scored on a  David Ortiz sacrifice fly. Burke Badenhop, our pitcher, threw the kinds of curves and fast balls that legends are made of, and kept the Cardinals without a base hit in that final inning.

"That's the game folks. Congratulations to the Boston Red Sox, the 2013 World Series Champions! And the stadium has exploded. Red Sox fans are screaming and hugging each other!

            "Meanwhile the Red Sox's dugout looks like an erupting volcano. Players are pouring out onto the field, shouting and barking. Champagne corks and liver snacks are flying everywhere. What an experience!"

            Shadow often recounts that game saving catch of the low line drive and his race to home plate. Of course such inhuman feats are quite possible for him!

The Molly Chronicles - Can a Dog Play Major League Baseball???

                                                              Picture of Shadow

           Watching Shadow was an amazing experience - what baseball should be about. With Shadow at bat, you never knew what to expect - a sizzling shot to right field, a ball blasted clear up into the bleachers. But his strength was always on defense.  In a blur of paws and dog hair, he'd zoom around the field making catch after incredible   catch, play after seemingly impossible play. 

            The climax of Shadow's career came in the seventh game of the World Series. It was the bottom of the ninth, the score tied three to three, one out, and Matt Holliday of the St. Louis Cardinals on third base, threatening to score.

               

"Batting for the Cardinals, Yadier Molina."

           

            There was bad blood between Yadier and me.  Once he had stepped on my tail almost  preventing me from running to first base, and I believe he did it on purpose. A tail is a very delicate part of a dog's anatomy.

            Anyway, as he came up to bat, I felt  the anger boiling in my blood. He just  had a bad smell about him.

            Yadier shot a wicked line drive aimed  between first and second base. The whole stadium was on their feet  screaming. Yadier let out a whoop loud enough to be heard in Texas, threw the bat in ecstasy, and ran for first base, with the smuggest look you've ever seen on a human.

            And seemingly out of nowhere, Shadow was there. He lunged at the ball, still in the air,  and caught it just before it passed by second base. He snapped around for the throw to home plate for the final out, but there was no one to throw to. Our catcher was down. Dan Butler was lying in a daze just behind home plate. In spite of the padding, Yadier Molina's bat had struck him in the back of the head, knocking him out cold.  Meanwhile Matt Holliday had tagged third base, and was now barreling toward home plate.

"Holliday's tagged the base. Holliday has gone back and tagged the base; he can score."

  "And that's the game right there folks.  Holliday will score. The Cardinals will  win it all, the inning, the game and World Series,  four games  to three. A shame folks. You hate to see a game won by because of an injury. But wait. It's not over yet. Here's Shadow running for home plate."