There is nothing unusual about the pitch when it leaves Kenn Wright's hand. Sun Valley is about an hour into its practice. Baseballs thump into leather gloves.
Players razz each other.
Aluminum bats ping. The batter swings. The baseball rushes back at about 70 mph, directly toward Kenn's forehead. Two miles away from the Sun Valley baseball field, a small figurine sits on a wooden shelf in the living room of Kenn and Chrissy Wright's home. He gave it to her the day before, Mother's Day, when the future seemed as bright as the yellow paint they picked out for the baby nursery.