Personal Narrative: Pitch's Game

A sharp sense of disappointment surged through me as my coach uttered the phrase I had been dreading to hear: "I 'm sorry, but Caleb is our starting second baseman this year." After riding the bench the previous season, I wanted nothing more than for this season to be different. The thought of spending the next three months rotting on the bench filled me with despair, and it seemed I was bound to that fate again. I needed to change his mind. I spent the following practices running harder, taking more ground balls, and spending more time in the cage than anyone else, but to no avail. The season started and I felt caged as I watched my teammates take the field through a chain link fence. Our first game came and went, but I never left the dugout; then

I was sitting on the bench in the last inning of our fourth game wondering if I was ever going to get to play when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned to see my coach gazing down at me. He gave me a sly grin and said, "get a helmet, you 're on deck." I had to swallow my shock. I jumped up and hurried over to the on deck circle. I could barely contain myself. This was it, I was finally going to prove that I deserved to be in the lineup. When my turn came, I made my way to the plate with gusto, and stood in the batter 's box, anxiously awaiting the first pitch. The pitcher started his windup and delivered what appeared to be a fastball. I watched the pitch, vacillating on whether or not to swing. "Is that too far inside?...Is that a strike?...Can I hit that hard?" By the time I decided to swing it was almost too late. I nicked the ball with the end of my bat and the ball dribbled out softly to the shortstop. Drat, I missed my pitch. But I was not deterred. I had to beat out the throw. I sprinted towards first base with everything I had. As I ran, I took a quick peek over and noticed the fielder had bobbled the ball. I was going to make it! And then