It was a hot summer day and my first practice. As all of my teammates gathered in on the field we started to form a large passel I looked around to see if there was anyone that I knew. Sure enough there was not 1 familiar face and in the ample amount of boys on the field. It was indubitable that I was uncomfortable with being
My dad always told me that hard work always beats talent when talent fails to work hard, but I never really thought of it that way. Once the tryouts had started I depended on the talent that I had. By the time it was the second day I was feeling really confident that I had this in the bag. I thought I was going to make the team easily. After the tryout, a few days later the coaches sent a email out to all the parents showing who made the team and who didn’t. I read the list name by name, the farther down the list I went the more worried I got. Once I hit the last name I was devastated, I didn’t see
Baseball was in my blood. Some of my earliest memories include batting cages with my Dad, sliding into home plate and throwing my first curve ball. By eight years old, I was playing ball year-round on travel teams and loving every minute of it. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that this was my sport, and I would play it in high school and possibly beyond. But, during the summer of 2010, the unthinkable happened. Picking up a golf club for the first time, I fell in love with a new game. I played every chance I got that summer. Begging my parents for clubs and lessons, my passion grew and most of the following summer was spent on the golf course, not the baseball field.
I flew out of bed and put on my uniform. We were at the field around 8 a.m. the reason why we had to be there so early was because I had 3 games! We won both the first and second game. I didn’t get out once. It was time for the third game. I was pretty scared because they were pretty big and scary. They also had a winning streak. The 1 to 3 innings were pretty intense. But when it came to the 4th inning and that’s where things got very intense. The score was 8-9 we were losing by 1. And I was up to bat. Two outs, one person on base, and the last inning. I stepped into the batter's box, she winned up for her pitch and throw ball. I step out of the batter's box and look over to my 3rd base line coach. As I did so, out the corner of my eye I saw a familiar face in the crowd. It was my….
We were down by one, and I went in at the end of the game, and I took my opportunity to show what I was made of. I played with all my heart running up and down the green grassy field, going up against big guys-- fearing no one. We finally scored to tie up the game. Then overtime came and I was still in. Although we lost that game, it was the best game I ever had.
The huge game was coming in just 4 days as I stand on the pitching mound of an old deserted baseball field behind an old middle school. As I stand up there getting ready to throw a pitch I drained the sweat out of my shirt and went into my pitching position. As I crushed the ball with my small fingers I let go of the crinkled ball. It was a ball. I knew I wasn 't ready for the world series. As days went by it was time for the big game. I was never this terrified in my life. The score was going back and forth. First it was 1-0 then 1-1 and so on. But when it came to the bottom of the 8th. We got the lead due to a hit to center field. We were up 6-5. Then the inning ended. It was the top of
There is about 30 kids trying out and only 15 were going to make the team. I had a good feeling I was going to make the team because I had good enough skill and I had a very good basketball IQ. The tryouts lasted for two hours for two nights. The two hours were full of sprinting, full court scrimmages, and shooting drills. Overall I didn’t do as good as I would have liked to. I was doing good during the layup and dribbling drills but not so much on the shooting drills. My shots just wouldn’t go in the basket. During the full court scrimmages I played very good defense but I still couldn’t make my shots. When we had to run sprints I was always the first one done.
We got into our dugout and started to get ready by putting our cleats and stuff on. On our way out to the outfield I said to my coach, “who’s pitching today?” He said, “Carter”. So I went out and told Carter he was pitching so we warmed up together. We played some catch and did some stretches. Carter said to me on the way back into the dugout, “I’m as nervous as a fireman on his first call.” I said, “Don’t be. We are going to win, then advance, and the win state.” The game finally started. We were the home team, so we started in the field first. Their first guy came up to the plate and you could see the nervousness in Carters eyes. I put down the sign and he threw a strike. The guy swung and missed.
Right before I went out onto the field to play catch with two kids my dad nodded, "Good luck!" After we had warmed up the coaches had us catch pop ups. They hit the pop ups with a tennis racket. Next they had a hit. If we were not hitting we were in the field catching the balls that the other kids hit.
It came down to the final two minutes in the game we were tied with them. Our coach had said that we need a stop, somebody needs to make a play. Little did I know at the time it would be me to make it. They ran the ball to my side of the field, and I made a tackle that resulted in a fumble that led to us scoring. The crowd in the stadium were ecstatic, I had people calling my name from the stands. I was happy at the time, but knew it was to be short lived, because the game wasn’t over. Their was still enough time on the clock for them to tie the game back up. I was almost proven
It was hard to believe I was headed to University of Michigan to watch the Wolverines play Akron in football. It was my first time going to the Big House. Our tickets came late, we had to print off four copies to get in . We got there so early we tailgated with some students. Then went to buffalo wild wings for drinks and to use the bathroom before we went in the stadium. We also got wings because you can 't not get wings.
It was by far the nicest fields I have ever played on. The outfield grass was as green as it can get and the infield was perfectly raked. We walked into the dugouts which were long with a bench going through it. We hung our bags on the fence and went onto the outfield and started throwing. The outfield grass was wet and soft as I felt it with my hand. We started with throws from close away but then started to back it up. At about 100 feet we took a few throws and then started to work it back in until we were a foot away and then we put the baseballs in the bucket. When the coach wanted to have a talk with us, we all made a circle and he just talked about what we can do and a little about the other team. He started out by talking about the batting order and where everyone was in the field but then he started talking about where the other team was from and how good they were. As the coach was talking, I could hear the other team throwing, the pop in their gloves. After he was finished we hustled into the dugout, got a sip of water and by the time were were finished, the coach was out by home plate meeting the other coach and the umpires. After they were finished talking he walked back toward us and it was time to play
Six years of pee wee, four years of travel, roughly 10,000 dollars of my parents hard earned money spent in payments, numerous nights of practice, countless days consumed by games and I did not make the team. An entire summer of early mornings dedicated to workouts, and I did not make the team. My freshman year I tried out for the Brentwood High School soccer team and didn’t make the cut. I will never forgot waiting anxiously for that email, opening it and not seeing my name on that roster. I was devastated, embarrassed and simply sad. I had failed.
This is one of my best experiences in baseball I have had. I got to spend time with my family and also my friends. We had a lot of fun while doing what we love. On the way back we got a text from our coach and he said,”that there will be a party at his house.” The party was fun, and we also got a huge trophies and new
Whenever I was not playing on the field, I wore a heavy winter coat. It was a regular season game, so we were usually goofing off, as most t-ball players do. But this game, everyone was trying their best to conserve body heat. Let us fast forward to “The Playoffs” (or as close as you can get in t-ball). This was one of the first years I was participating in baseball, so I really didn’t know a whole lot about the playoffs or what they were. All my parents told me was that if my team lost, we were eliminated. I really liked to be competitive, so I was as determined as a little 7 year old could get. We played the games, we pummeled the teams. That was all we did in the playoffs. And then, as soon as I knew it, “The Championship Game” had arrived. I was as ecstatic as a child who receives an iPhone for Christmas. But with all my joy, there also came fear; much fear and nervousness. My parents