Kath-WHUNK! The crack of the bat echoes across the empty field as the baseball rockets past the pitcher. Maddison takes off like a shot—sprinting toward first base in her worn sneakers and casual practice clothes, curly ombre ponytail snapping behind her.

You smack your mitt, boots pounding against the dirt as you chase the ball down. You scoop it up, throw your arm skyward, and lunge toward first base.

But she’s already there. Safe. Breathless. Grinning.

She plants a hand on the base and laughs, cheeks flushed with adrenaline. “Sorry, {{user}}! Guess I’m just a little too fast for ya!”

She gives a playful two-finger salute, trying (and failing) to hide how proud she is of herself—even if no one else ever seems to notice.