Out of Right Field - By Sarah Telford

Written By: Sarah Telford

Category: Short Story

Competition: Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026

Sarah Telford, writing as "Out of Right Field," presents a captivating short story featured in the Short Story category of the Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026. This narrative delves into the intricate dynamics of sibling rivalry, familial expectations, and personal resilience. Set against the backdrop of a life intertwined with baseball, Telford's story explores the journey of a young woman finding her own path amidst challenges and societal pressures.

About the Work

In "Out of Right Field," Sarah Telford crafts a compelling narrative exploring themes of ambition and identity. The story weaves together elements of sport and familial tension, creating an emotionally charged atmosphere. Through vivid imagery and a strong narrative voice, Telford highlights the protagonist's struggle for recognition and self-worth. The mood is one of determination and introspection, as the protagonist navigates her role within her family and her passion for softball.

Out of Right Field

Original Submission by Sarah Telford

Out of Right Field

Let’s start this story with the honest truth. I have never been the favourite twin. I was never the golden child, never the apple of my parents eye, that’s for sure. All the attention went to my twin sister. Whatever she wanted, she got. Whether she needed it or not. Me? I got by on her leftovers or what I could scrounge by myself.

We grew up in a pretty hectic lifestyle. Our lives revolved around baseball. My father was a professional player. Not to drop any team’s name or something, but let’s just say we did a lot of birdwatching in our days. He always wanted us to follow in his footsteps, or at least he wanted Ruth too. I was just the bonus, second chance. Now because we are girls, we couldn’t directly go the same route he did, but he got us into women’s softball from the age we could pick up a ball.

He showered her with everything she could have ever wanted. The best equipment, the most elite training camps. He spent hours working on her arm in the backyard, coming in long after dark. The worst part, baseball wasn’t even her dream.

Even before we could walk, we were taken to Dad’s games. Where Ruth was swayed by the fun food and balloon animals at the park on Sundays, I was glued to the game. It became my passion. I memorized every stat. My eyes never left the diamond. But did my Dad care? Nope. Ruth was going to be his superstar pitcher, and that was the end of that.

I did get some things though. Ruth’s leftovers. Her old gloves, her used cleats. Her stained jerseys. But it was enough to work with. I managed to become quite the catcher. Ruth was obviously going to be a pitcher, the showiest player on the team. But I was the one with the real talent. I caught every one of her games. I called the plays. I was the real mastermind, only no one could see it through the “Ruth hype”. Still, I pursued the game I loved.

Eventually it became time where spaces for female softball players were becoming sparce. Ruth may not have loved the game, but she loved the attention. She sucked it up like a vacuum. All my parents ever did was fan the flames. Before every tryout, it was drilled into me. “Make Ruth look good.” That’s all I was worth.

Finally came the big audition. We both wanted a spot on the college team, hopefully accompanied by a scholarship. I knew this was the only chance I had of being able to afford school to become a sports broadcaster. It was my chance. Or at least, that’s what I thought. But in my family’s eyes, it was Ruth’s big shot. Once again, she was showered in preparation gear. Extra practice with Dad’s pro era buddies. Press training. Dietician consultations. The works. I was overlooked. But that just meant I was underestimated.

The day for tryouts came. I tried my best to stand out. It was a closed tryout, so my parents weren’t allowed to watch. I was finally allowed to shine for who I was without suppressing my talent to please them. I left everything on the field. All that was left to do was wait.

A few weeks later, I was smiling down at my phone. It revealed my worth, my true potential. The proof that I had what it took all along. It was a letter of offer from the college. A free ride. Board and books included. I had done it. My dreams were coming true. I took one last look in the mirror, brushing a final stroke of blush across my face, making sure I looked perfect. I wanted to be perfect when I told my family my good news. Just before I stood up, my phone began to ring.

I almost didn’t answer it. I had more important tasks for the night. But the number caught my attention. It looked familiar. Too familiar. I scanned it again. It was MY number. I hesitantly picked it up and turned on the facetime.

There was a woman. She looked like she had lived through some real trials. You could see it in her tired eyes. There were slight wrinkles around her eyes. Not the kind that come from years of laughter, but the kind that arise from too many sleepless nights. Then I looked deeper. We had the same auburn hair, though hers had touches of grey intertwined in the loose curls. Her lips were thin but firm, set in a stern expression. I recognized that face. It was mine. This was a future version of myself, somehow calling back in time.

“I” wasted no time. “I” got straight to the point.

“Don’t tell your family you were offered a position on the team.” She stated plainly. “It won’t go well. Your sister didn’t get an offer. When she finds out, she will lose it. It is one thing to lose what you have been told is your destiny , but to have your sister triumph in the same manner? That will be too much for her. If you tell, tonight she will take her own life. She will go up to the roof and jump.”

I didn’t know how to process this information. First of all, how was this happening? Was it some cruel prank or had the fabric of time really just been ripped open? Was this part of my parent’s scheme to keep Ruth happy?

“Jackie, you need to listen to me,” “I” continued. “This is not a joke. Ruth is everything to your parents. If she takes her own life, and she will, they will blame you. They will do whatever they can to destroy your chances at happiness, because they will believe that’s what you stole from Ruth. The night of your first game, they will pay someone to disable the breaks on your car. You will survive the accident, but you will never walk again. Softball will be a distant dream. First they will rob you physically, then they will break you mentally through ableism and social discrimination. They will tell you because you are disabled you are nothing. Worthless. They will pound this into you until it is all you can think. They will use every advantage they have to make you suffer and feel bad about yourself, mourning what you could have had. They will try and keep trying until they succeed.” The camera panned to the rest of “my” body. There it was: the wheelchair. “My” legs were small and breakable. I could tell from this visual “I” hadn’t walked in years. I gulped. So this was my potential future. “Make the choice you can live with,” “I” advised myself before hanging up.

After the call ended I just sat there. I was trying to make sense of it all. Truly Ruth wouldn’t take her life over a sport she didn’t even really care for, would she? Or would it be the shame of me outshining her for once in her life that would tip her over the edge? But certainly my parents loved me more than that. They would understand it wasn’t my fault. They wouldn’t go after my future, my happiness…. Would they? I really didn’t know the answer. I was lost in thought when I heard a shriek coming from downstairs. I rushed through the hallways, thinking something serious was wrong.

Ruth was in the living room, with Mom and Dad hunched over her, silently comforting her and rubbing her back. She was sobbing. Not real tears though, even if I was the only one to know the difference. These were show tears. Crocodile tears designed to gather sympathy and attention. Mom and Dad could never see through her act, but I could.

“Shush, shush, it’s ok sweetie,” Mom comforted her. “You are an amazing player. They are idiots not to choose you. Who could be better?” she cooed. She glanced up and saw me hovering in the doorway. “At least you try my Ruthie,” she continued. “If you didn’t make it, imagine how foolish your sister must have looked! She probably stunk the place up so bad they had to fumigate!”

That one stung. They had never quite believed in me, but this was a direct insult on my character. It was nothing I wasn’t used to though. They were using me as a pincushion to make Ruth feel better.

My Dad must have sensed something was up, so he quietly demanded “you didn’t make it, did you Jackie?” I had now seen their true colours. With my warning, I knew what I had to do. The way the tables would turn.

I silently shook my head with a solem expression. “No, I didn’t make it either,” I lied through my teeth. For now, this would be my secret.

“See, we told you,” Mom went on, obviously pleased by my answer. “You are so talented sweetie. We will get you more training. You will work hard and try out again next season. They will see you for the superstar you really are. And don’t worry about the cost. I know you are turning 18 soon, but it’s on us to take care of you.” Then she turned to me. “Jackie, you obviously aren’t going anywhere in the field of softball” She paused to chuckle at her own joke. “You will need to sign up for community college. That way we can keep an eye on you. And you need some ambition. I think a job is a good idea. You need to start paying your own way.” Little did she know, I secretly had everything covered.

Before I could even react, I saw something gleam in Ruth’s eyes. “Mom,” she began, “before my training starts, what about Cabo? I was planning on taking a vacation with my friends before the season started!”

“Not to worry,” Mom reassured her. “We will cover it all baby.” Just like that, my rejection had gone from me losing all of my family funding, to getting a job to support myself, to Ruth getting a free vacation. Unbelievable. I backed slowly out of the room. Both of my parents had their heads in the clouds comforting Ruth and didn’t even notice me leave. I had been in the dining room for 20 minutes when I finally heard my name called.

“Jackie, we are going out to eat! We are celebrating Ruth’s resolve to try again next season! We need to support her in her time of need!” No mention of my so-called rejection. Just more support for Ruth. I knew there was no use fighting it. I went upstairs to grab a sweater. By the time I returned downstairs, they had already left, simply leaving a note that said which restaurant to meet them at. This just reinforced that I had made the right choice.

When I arrived at the restaurant, the table was already stacked sky-high with plates of food. Lobster, shrimp, mussels, every sort of shellfish imaginable. Only the best for Ruth after all. The only problem, I am allergic to shellfish. My parents had never quite believed me. “You and Ruth are twins. She can eat it,” they had explained it away. “More for Ruth then,” was always theur eventual conclusion.

This was the final straw. I was getting out, and I was doing it tonight. When the house finally went dark, I made my move. I grabbed my suitcase from the back of my closet and shoved in everything I valued. I didn’t have much. Because we were twins, Ruth and I shared a lot of clothes, but I always had to “ask” and the material she usually wore made me itchy. I had a few of my favourite pieces I had nearly worn out, so I threw them in. They wouldn’t be missed. My glove went in next. I had saved up for years to buy that beautiful piece of leather. I had been careful to keep it out of d=sight from my parents, breaking it in in secret and only using it when they couldn’t tell it was mine. They were often so focused on Ruth that this hadn’t been that hard to pull off. I packed my laptop, a phone charger, and a few more vital items before zipping the bag shut.

I slipped silently out the front door. Just like that, I was on my own. I had no plan. No where to go. I had nothing. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know what I wanted. I just knew I had to escape the fate I’d been given a glimpse of. I had to make the right decision for me.

With all the savings I had, I made my way to the city of the college where the team was. I had accepted the offer the moment I left home. I went to the staff and professed my story. Once I started, it was like floodgates. It all came pouring out. They must of thought I was a wreck. But the manager saw something else. She saw determination. She saw grit. She saw someone defying the odds for something she was passionate about. And that made her want me on her team even more.

We worked out some details. With my scholarship from the team I could afford to rent a room in a house with some of my new teammates. They were all just as driven as I was. I could instantly see why my oh so perfect sister had been rejected. She didn’t have the heart it took to be on this team. She was all about the glamour, never the work. But I was.

And did I work. I was the first one on the field every day and the last one to leave. When I wasn’t there I was in batting practise or working out at the gym. I owed my life to this team, I couldn’t disappoint. To keep my parents from coming after me, the manager allowed me to play under what we jokingly called my “stage name.” That along with the catcher’s equipment was enough to hide my identity. Considering their precious daughter’s dream was to be on it, you would think my parents would have done more research into the team. But I guess they didn’t care about anyone but her.

I started as a backup catcher. Then, one day, the opening catcher got sick on gameday and I filled in. More opportunities arose from there. Before I knew it I was starting every game, calling every pitch. I lead my team to the championship game!

As I made my way to the dugout, I heard a voice that made me stop dead in my tracks .”Jackie,” my Dad’s voice echoed in the noisy stadium. So they had finally figured it out. I had wondered when this day would come. “You’ve proven yourself. It’s Ruth’s turn now. Put in a good work for her with your team. Do so and you will be welcomed back into the family,” he offered.

I scoffed. After all this time, Ruth was still the rightful softball heir. They couldn’t just be happy for my success. “I don’t need you. You stopped being my family a long time ago,” I answered curtly. I turned to the security guard, “don’t let this man or anyone with him anywhere near the dugout,” I instructed. With that, I walked away.

We won the championship. I did it despite the odds. I went on the win many more. What had once out me down just motivated me to succeed. And it was all thanks to that mysterious phone call. I still don’t know how that was possible. I wish I could thank that version of me, but because of her warning she had ceased to exist. One thing did stick with me though.

My parents would have tried to ruin my life by taking softball away from me. They would of stolen the game I loved. But that wasn’t the worst part. The would have discriminatory social constructs and pressures of ableism in society to break me mentally. I wanted to make sure that never happened to anyone else. I graduated with honours in sports media. I found a good job that let me report on m=the game I love and build a platform for myself.

I started to invest in building local accessible baseball diamonds. Every child or adult should be able to enjoy the game, no matter what their physical abilities may be. I became and advocate for accessibility. I spoke for human rights and how everyone should be accepted for who they are. My life would have been different had I been in a chair, but it wouldn’t have been over. I like to think I would have been a fighter.

I often wonder about that version of me. She had had a tough time. But she lived through it. She found a way to change “our” life. It is because of her that I have the platform that I do to be able to help others. I think that was her intent. She just didn’t want my parents to win. Deep down maybe they loved me, but if someone could be so evil and cruel, could that really be true? Even though it technically never happened, they had tried to steal my livelihood. I have no idea where they are now, but I am better off. It was never about saving me from a disability. It was about saving me from believing the worst about myself. It changed my perspective on life and what anyone can accomplish if they put their minds to it. I guess you could say my mindset came out of the right field.

About the Competition

The Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026, hosted by Hashtag Kalakar, is an esteemed platform celebrating diverse literary voices. It encourages writers to share their stories, poems, and creative works with a global audience. This competition serves as a testament to the power of storytelling in connecting cultures and inspiring change, providing a unique opportunity for participants to showcase their talent and creativity.

We extend our heartfelt thanks to Sarah Telford for her insightful contribution with "Out of Right Field" to the Global Poetry and Creative Writing Competition 2026. Her story is a powerful reminder of the importance of perseverance and self-belief. We appreciate her participation and look forward to seeing more of her compelling narratives in the future.

About Hashtag Kalakar

Hashtag Kalakar is a creative platform dedicated to providing artists, writers, singers and other creative talents with opportunities to showcase their work and reach wider audiences through competitions, features and creative initiatives.