Dodger Stadium, Los Angeles, United States,
Around 5 p.m., the last round of the world baseball championship final took place in this gigantic stadium.
"I'm only one round away from realizing my childhood dream." On the mound a player wearing the number 1 of the United States team was thinking deeply.
This man was Jacob Anderson Jr., he was 27 years old today. And is currently the star player of the national team.
Jacob Anderson Jr. was born in a small Texas town, where baseball was more than just a sport, it was a tradition. The only son of Jacob Anderson Sr., a former professional baseball player, and Mary Anderson, a dedicated schoolteacher, Jacob was immersed in the world of baseball from an early age.
His father, although retired from the field, never lost his passion for the game. He had set up a small field in their garden, with a pitcher's mound and a batting cage. This is where Jacob took his first steps in the world of baseball. By the time he was five, he was already holding a bat with surprising confidence, and his father was gently pitching balls to him to teach him how to hit. But it wasn't batting that fascinated young Jacob, it was pitching.
When Jacob was seven years old, he asked his father to teach him how to throw. Jacob Sr. was a pitcher renowned for his speed and accuracy, and he passed on his knowledge to his son with patience and rigor. Jacob Jr. spent hours perfecting his throws, finding immense joy in the simple act of pitch a ball.
As a teenager, Jacob joined his high school baseball team. His talent was undeniable. He possessed exceptional arm speed and accuracy that made him a feared pitcher. He began attracting the attention of college recruiters his freshman year.
But it wasn't just his talent that set him apart. Jacob had an exemplary work ethic. He arrived first at training and left last. He studied the techniques of the best pitchers and never stopped improving. His determination was fueled by a dream: to become the best baseball pitcher in the world.
A notable event in his teenage years was meeting baseball legend Nolan Ryan at training camp. Nolan Ryan immediately recognized Jacob's potential. "You have what it takes to be great," he told her one day. These words resonated deeply within Jacob and strengthened his resolve.
During his high school years, Jacob accumulated victories and distinctions. He led his team to several regional championships and became a local star. His spectacular performances earned him a full scholarship to play at a prestigious university.
In college, Jacob continued to excel. He broke records and led his team to national championships. His reputation grew, and he became a highly sought-after player by professional teams. After a successful college career, he was selected in the first round of the draft by a Major League Baseball (MLB) team.
As a professional player, Jacob Anderson Jr. does not disappoint. He quickly became a star, known for his fast and accurate throws. He accumulated distinctions: Rookie of the Year, several All-Star selections, and even the Best Pitcher award. But Jacob never rested on his laurels. Every game, every throw was an opportunity for him to prove his worth.
—
We are now in the final chapter of his international career. Team USA faces Japan in the World Baseball Championship. It's the ninth inning, the score is close, and Jacob is on the mound.
The stands are filled with screaming fans. The screams and encouragement create an electrifying atmosphere. Jacob takes a deep breath, trying to calm his heart rate. He looks at his teammates and catches the eye of his receiver. A silent exchange, a tacit understanding: it's your time to shine.
Jacob takes his stance, the ball clutched in his hand. The Japanese leadoff hitter is in place, ready to give it his all. Jacob inhales deeply, feeling the adrenaline rush. "Focus, Jacob. Start with a fastball. Show him your speed."
He exchanges a look with his receiver, who nods in agreement. Jacob jumps in and throws a perfect fastball. The batter swings his bat, but the ball goes by at lightning speed. "Strike one," the referee announces.
Without wasting time, Jacob and his receiver communicate again with a quick wave of the hand. "A slider now," Jacob thinks. The batter, anticipating another fastball, is caught off guard. "Strike two."
For the last pitch, Jacob decides to surprise with a curveball. The ball appears to float before diving towards the strike zone. "Come on, stay calm, aim straight." The batter swings too early. "Strike three." The first batter is out.
The second hitter is a veteran, known for his patience and skill in reading pitches. Jacob knows he has to be strategic. "He won't fall for this easily. Start with a changeup to fool his timing."
He starts with a changeup, slowing the ball just enough to fool the hitter's timing. "Strike one."
The second pitch is a high and outside fastball, enticing the batter to swing. He makes a powerful swing but misses the ball. "Strike two." Jacob feels a surge of confidence. "He is mine."
For the third pitch, Jacob and his receiver opt for an inside slider. The batter is forced to step back slightly, but the ball cuts right through the strike zone. "Strike three." Two batters out.
The last batter is the captain of the Japanese team, a formidable player. The tension is palpable. Jacob takes a deep breath, focusing only on the catcher and the ball in his hand.
"Start strong, with a quick fastball, aim for the low outside corner." The batter prepares to swing but holds back. "Ball one."
Jacob adjusts his strategy. "OK, a curveball now, make him doubt." The ball dives at the last second, and the batter cannot resist. "Strike one."
The score is still close, and Jacob knows he has to play intelligently. "A changeup to destabilize him again." He sends a changeup, once again fooling the batter's timing. "Strike two."
For the last pitch, Jacob decides to finish in style with a perfectly placed fastball. He rushes forward, concentrates all his energy and technique in this last throw. "It's now or never." The ball rockets across home plate at lightning speed. The batter swings, but it's too late. "Strike three."
The stadium explodes with joy. The United States team has won the baseball world championship, and Jacob Anderson Jr. is carried in triumph by his teammates. For Jacob, it is the pinnacle of a brilliant career, a confirmation of his childhood dream.
The stadium was in turmoil. Cries of joy echoed everywhere, supporters waved flags and chanted the names of their heroes. Jacob Anderson Jr., still under the adrenaline of victory, was carried by his teammates to the center of the field. The euphoria was contagious, and Jacob couldn't stop smiling.
"We did it, guys!" Jacob shouted, raising his fist. "We are world champions!"
His teammates surrounded him, congratulating him, patting him on the back. He shook the hand of each player, each of whom contributed to this historic victory.
"Jacob, you were amazing!" said Mike, the team captain, giving him a hug.
"Thank you, Mike. But this victory is all of ours. We won it together," Jacob replied modestly.
Media cameras were closing in, capturing every moment of this celebration. Jacob was soon surrounded by journalists, microphones held out towards him.
"Jacob, how do you feel after this victory?"
"It's indescribable," Jacob replied, wiping the sweat from his forehead. "This is a dream come true. I'm so proud of this team."
After the interviews, the players were invited to a podium to receive their medals. Camera lights shone on their beaming faces as the national anthem blared. Jacob looked at the gold medal around his neck with deep emotion. It was a symbol of all his hard work, of every hour spent training, of every challenge overcome.
The party continued in the locker rooms. The players were dousing each other with champagne, laughing and singing at the top of their lungs. Jacob sat for a moment to catch his breath, observing his teammates with a feeling of gratitude.
"This was what we fought for," he thought. "For these moments of pure joy, for these memories that we will keep forever."
The evening was progressing, and it was time to go home. The players boarded the national team bus, still excited about their victory. Jacob took a seat near a window, watching the illuminated city pass before his eyes. He thought of his parents, how proud they would be of him.
"I should call them when we get to the hotel," he said to himself.
The bus was moving slowly, the players' conversations were lively. Jacob listened absentmindedly, thinking back to the highlights of the match. He replayed each pitch in his head, remembering the feel of the ball leaving his hand, the satisfying sound of the catcher's glove capturing each strike.
Suddenly, everything changed in an instant. A deafening noise rang out, followed by a violent jolt. The bus skidded, the screams of the players filling the air. Jacob felt an overwhelming force throw him against the seat in front of him. The world around him became blurry, the lights blurred.
"What is happening ?" he thought, a dull panic rising within him.
The bus tilted, and Jacob lost track of time. The sounds of crumpling metal, shattering glass, and screams of pain blended into a terrifying cacophony. Then everything went silent.
Jacob opened his eyes with difficulty. The pain invaded him, each breath was an effort. He tried to move, but his body didn't respond. He saw indistinct shapes, silhouettes of his teammates, some motionless, others groaning in pain.
"No...this isn't how it was supposed to end..." Jacob thought, his conscience wavering.
His thoughts turned to his parents, his father who had taught him how to throw, his mother who had always supported him. He felt a tear roll down his cheek. He wanted to scream, to call for help, but no sound came out of his mouth.
"I'm sorry..."
His eyelids became heavy. A strange peace came over him as he closed his eyes for the last time. Memories of his life, his victories, his friends and his family flashed before him. In his mind, he threw one last ball, perfect, a final strike.
Then there was silence.