The participants (in alphabetical order):

AnnaStrophic, BelMarduk, Consuelo, Elizabeth Creith, inselpeter, Jackie, maverick, musick, Sparteye, TEd Remington, themilum, WhitmanO'Neill. Plus, of course, the real author.

The submissions (in SWAR order):

A) I never thought, back in the days when my mother would fussingly wash the streaks of sweat and dirt off my face, that my determination to win at all costs would ever get me more than the fleeting attention of one of my teammates' older brothers.

B) Long before women were burning their bras, and marching for equal rights, a small group of women were striking a blow for equality, one home run at a time.

C) Sure, if I had the opportunity to do it all over again, I'd do it in exactly the same way -- well, except for one thing.

D) "Dreamer."

E) Sliding spike-high into first after a pick-off attempt wasn't really a routine play, but those lovely bare legs were such tempting targets, and bled so easily.

F) "Stupid Major League equipment rules!", Karen snorted to herself in irritation as she struggled to wear the athletic supporter.

G) The train conductor entered the bar car calling out "Next stop, Chicago".

H) The ball seemed to be hanging against the azure sky, impossibly far yet as threatening as a comet, like the whole promise of her life coming rushing towards her – and as if from the echoing passage of her far-off childhood she could hear her dad yelling “CATCH it Bunny! Catch it!”

I) Timothy Michael Curry, known to baseball statistics as T. M. Curry and to his old teammates as Curry Powder, or just plain Powder, sat on the barren bleachers and wiped the sweat off his neck.

J) At age thirteen little Olga Wilhite, tall and strong and quick of eye and reflex, did not sell her soul to the devil as had her famous great-uncle, Cy Slocum, a six hundred game winner with a 0.92 earned run average for a five year period with the Saint Louis Browns - no, pretty little Olga Wilhite sold her sweet little soul to a modern day demon that was much worse.

K) The count was three balls and two strikes, and with two outs in the bottom of the ninth inning the St. Louis Trojans were down seven to five in this the very first game of the season.

L) He's gonna throw at me, said "Baby" Ruth McGonigal to herself as the pitcher went into his windup, I know 'cause most of them do that even when they know the umpire's watching for it.

M) It was a perfect day for a game, but then, it was always a perfect day for a game.

The usual week to choose. Name change from a suggestion from one of the submitters.