cokeconfessional

I feel like I'm entering a huge slump. One of those where everything you hit hard is an at'em-ball. Nothing drops between fielders. Calls go the other team's way. Then, when you realize you haven't had a hit in your last twenty or thirty times to the plate, you start to press. When you start to press, the ball gets smaller and smaller until it's like you're swinging at a Tic Tac with a couple of strands of over-cooked spaghetti. Next thing you know, you're being batted down in the order and everyone is boo-ing you before you even make it up to the plate. Then what? All those years of production are forgotten. The papers say you're done, you can't handle the city, you've lost heart. What do they know? I'd like to see them suit up and do better. Hell, the way I've been playing, they might be able to. Plays I always used to make, I'm bobbling and double-clutching. Teammates stay away from me on the bench. The newspapers only print my quotes when I'm venting out of frustration. Speculation over me being done is everywhere. They say I need to get the hell out of this city, but I don't want to. Printing things like when I said "Yeah, I see the light at the end of the tunnel.. it's an oncoming 5 train." They just don't understand. No, they do, they just don't care. All they say it takes is one solid hit. Wait, maybe it was a few bleeders. I don't know. I just hope I get a few of whatever they say I need.. or something.