“Draft Day Legends”
The roar from the draft party shook the foundations of the old rec center. Four names. Four dreams. One unforgettable night. Luke, Kep, Aidan, and Jake had trained on the same clay infield since they were eight, playing under the blazing summer sun and winter rain with cracked gloves and blistered hands. Now, they were all getting drafted β in the same year.
Luke βLights Outβ Lawson was the first name called. The New York Titans took him in the first round, a hard-throwing right-hander with a four-seam fastball that touched 98 mph and a wipeout slider that broke knees like glass. ESPN called him βa future ace with ice in his veins.β Luke had pitched three no-hitters in high school, one in a state championship game, and never let success cloud his humility. When his name echoed through the TV speakers, he didnβt jump or scream. He just smiled, stood tall, and hugged his mom with tears streaming down her cheeks.
Then came Kep. Short for Kepler Jameson, he was the quiet soul of the group β a switch-hitting center fielder with a cannon arm and instincts that couldnβt be taught. The Seattle Navigators snatched him at 29th overall. βBest outfield reads in the draft,β said one analyst. Kep barely spoke during interviews but let his game scream for him. Heβd once stolen second, third, and home in the same inning. When his name was announced, he gave a calm nod, bumped fists with the others, and whispered, βLetβs make history.β
Aidan Torres was a hometown legend β a lefty slugger with wrists like steel cables and the smoothest glove at first base east of the Rockies. The Dallas Rangers took him in the second round. His senior stats were borderline video game numbers: .462 average, 23 homers, 71 RBIs. But it was his leadership that set him apart β team captain, 4.0 GPA, and the kind of guy who lifted everyone around him. When he was drafted, he jumped up, fist pumped the air, and bear-hugged his dad so hard they both fell into the couch.
Then Jake βFirecrackerβ Daniels β the heart and engine of their squad β came next. Picked in the third round by the Miami Sharks, Jake was an electric shortstop with ridiculous range, a rocket arm, and swagger that drew scouts from five states. He played every inning like it was Game 7 of the World Series. βHeβs the spark plug every dugout dreams about,β said a former MLB coach. Jake ran a 6.4-second 60-yard dash and turned double plays like poetry in motion. When the call came, he let out a whoop, leaped over the snack table, and shouted, βLetβs GOOOOO!β
The room exploded. Parents cried. Coaches beamed. Teammates pounded shoulders. The four stood side-by-side, arms over each otherβs shoulders, a brotherhood forged in dirt and sweat.
βFrom sandlot to showtime,β Luke said, raising his fist.
They all bumped fists β tight, proud, unbreakable.
π©΅πΎβΎοΈ
The draft was over. The journey had just begun.
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