Indiana Dew Narrative

Born and raised in Philadelphia I had that competitive city kid attitude. I was different though which made me more competitive from the rest. If it was as simply as someone walking next to me on the sidewalk towards the street I would still wanna beat them there. I never lost that instinct and I am proud of it. Being the best at anything and everything is my goal. I've been playing baseball since I was four and I don't take the sport lightly. I've led many teams to championships, winning awards also to go along with it. My teammates and I both look at me as the captain of the team. If we lose I look at myself and what I could have done better to help the team. Baseball is my life and my passion and I want to play the sport as long

“Rodriguez, get off the field!”, these words stabbed through my heart like a dull knife through leather. Since the first practice I attended Softball has always been my life. I look back at my twelve years of experience there was one say that specifically stands out. Not even the the days where I hit my first home run or made my first diving play stand out. For many many years I was always seen as the player the team called on to pull the team out of a rut. To make things a bit more complicated my high school coach had been my coach my entire softball career. He knew how I thought, how i played, and really molded me into the player I am today. I soon graduated from my little league summer softball to the competitive nature of highschool ball. As a freshman I knew I was going to be overlooked. Too much of my surprise I was placed on varsity for my pitching abilities. This only fueled my passion. Not only was I on the team but I played! Can you imagine the other team looking at the roster and finding out then were going to let at thirteen year old freshman pitch to their nineteen year old senior batters? They laughed at me until they stepped in the batters box. The year passed and our senior pitcher graduated bumping me into the starting position. This is where we knew we would start a legacy. Yet again we were the powerhouse of the western slope.Our success was spreading quickly and more and more players and coaches wanted to join! My junior year was our strongest

When I first joined softball I remember it being such a beautiful day it was really fresh out in the softball field, the sky was light blue with birds flying high above, and the softball field’s grass was dark green and looked great for a picnic. I felt all alone in the big diamond field, my head had second thoughts as I seen all those other girls who were also going out for softball talking to their friends as they were waiting for the coaches to get to the softball field. Since I knew no one and was the youngest one out there going out for softball, I said to myself, I should not come back tomorrow, even though deep inside I knew I wanted to join. I had that second thought mostly because I was lonely and I didn't know anyone. I didn’t give up, I went out to tryouts everyday until the teams were made. The second day of practice as an official team I arrived at practices one hour early, and so did one of my teammates. One of my teammates said, “Hey you’re on my

Nothing hurts more than being excluded. I learned this the hard way my sophomore year. This is a story about my high school lacrosse team. Most of my friends are on the team so we’ve become very close after playing together since the seventh grade. We play lacrosse in the backyard almost everytime we’re together.

When I was moved down I hated the sport of football and I could not quit because I wouldn't be allowed to play the next season. I went to practice and watched all my friends play on the varsity with envy. I was anti-social on the field and made the other Junior Varsity players fear me when it was time to start practicing. The varsity had won one district game and the last game determined playoffs.They lost and it ended my hope of being on the varsity team my junior

As days pass, the pain begins to subside, the tournament slowly approaching. I tried to imply that I still wanted to play, but they weren 't getting the message. My family and I decided to have a big discussion about whether I would attend the tournament or not. Headstrong, I told them I was playing. “You’re doing WHAT..?” my mother yelled. I attempted to explain how I wasn’t going to let down my team because of one injury. “Baseball is my whole life, mom. Tomorrow is the first tournament game,” I explained, “I will find a way to play.” Me being the stubborn kid I am, I talked them into letting me play. Luckily, the break was on my catching arm, not my throwing arm. After talking to my coach, we came to a compromise. They let me pitch for the start of the games in the tournament, and even bat if my hand was feeling alright! I show up at the tournament fully clothed in my baseball pants and jersey. The smell of stadium hot dogs and sweat filled my mind. My team, unaware of my decision of playing, is in awe. I warm up my pitching arm, throwing to my coach while my team does warm ups. I, tolerantly, practice my batting with my team. Luckily, my hand doesn’t hurt. The expression on my face was much like a child on Christmas

In 2013, I was selected to play on the only all girls baseball team in the largest tournament for twelve year olds in the United States, Cooperstown Dreams Park in Cooperstown, New York. Baseball has always been a male dominant sport and because of that, I have always been praised for being the only girl on the all boys team. Since I was four years old, I had only played with boys. Everyone welcomed me and saw nothing wrong. However, as I grew older and know-it-all dads began coaching their sons, the same faces who welcomed me, turned their backs. Countless times, I was told to switch to softball. “Baseball isn’t for girls!” one sexist father said to me. No amount of persuasion or bullying could make me leave the sport I loved. Being only 5’3, 135 pounds, I knew I would never be as strong as the boys, who gain strength naturally. It meant I had to work three times harder.

Senior year of high school I went from league champions to below .500 records. Lake Winaukee was where the team would prep and practice for the upcoming season. As a senior, I felt I was obliged to help my team win football games and the place we could create chemistry was Lake Winaukee. The second I was on the field I knew my team had the game won. All I could see around me was a group of men ready for war. I couldn’t be more ready for my last home opener so after I did what I do when the unexplainable happens, accept it. I ran to the 45 to the 35 to the 20, hoping to find the kick returner. 8 months waiting for this moment all the sweat, pain, 100 degree sun beaming UV rays to my face. I kept going for the guy next to me performing to the best to his ability. Success was the result of all the hard relentless work done throughout June into August. I acknowledged that my team had a good group of seniors who were high character student-athletes I spent most of childhood with.Ultimately finishing with a record of 3 wins and 7 loses taught me many lessons on becoming a better person and

“Tell us how you did it coach.”  These words were forced into my face with a camera lens almost resting against my cheeks (page 395). The team did it along with some guidance from my assistant coach and the parents. I want to thank my assistant coach who is the baseball expert.  He used to play in the minor leagues and the team loved him because of his dedication to their lives and his credibility at baseball. I think they hated me because I introduced the pull-up to their strength and conditioning program. Regardless, I was all about making them the best well-rounded people before they head into the cruel world.

​My father was less worried about my dreams when he decided to walk out of my life to concentrate on his issues. I was only nine years old with great interests in baseball that needed his encouragement and guidance during my training. I communicated to my mother, my desire to pitch and that I would never be good because I needed my father to teach me. That day I learned one of the most valuable things in my life she told me to never take the easy way out and blame someone else for not accomplishing your dreams. She told me to achieve a goal you must develop a plan. We developed a plan to pursue my dream of becoming a pitcher. Our plan consisted of me reading many baseball books, practicing daily and keeping a positive attitude and above all

“This one is an easy strikeout bud!” my dad would say. “Ball four! Batter take your walk” the umpire called out. After the game my dad would give me his motivational speech, telling me how much he looks up to me for finding love in the game he loved as a kid. Hoping to cheer me up from a bad inning but it wasn’t just a bad inning; I just didn’t like baseball.

The softball team has gave me unforgettable friendships, the ability to play with such inspiring athletes, and has given me skills that I can carry on due to coach Sal. The first year I had started on West High’s softball team was sophomore year. I remember going to the try outs, feeling awkward, due to me not being close to any of the girls since we were twelve and eleven. All the girls that were my age, the ones I was friends with when I was younger, were all on varsity. Since it was my first year back as a Falcon, Sal placed me on JV. Sal would sometimes ask me to sub for them on the weekends, but I wouldn’t because I felt too uncomfortable, since I haven’t talked to the girls in so long. Junior year came along and at the end of winter I asked Sal about how the softball team was doing and how I was considering playing for them that coming summer. He then informed me how the team was doing spring softball, and that I should go to the practices that following night, and I did. From then on, I loved

I have been playing softball all of my life, and originally planned to play at the collegiate level one day. I played every season without a break, due to travel ball. My father worked with me day in and day out for years, but all of a sudden, when I was a sophomore, I decided I did not want to play anymore. So one day I talked to my coach and told him I would not be back. I worked for my whole life up until that point and impulsively decided to quit. I was not thinking about my parents, teammates, or even myself. I wanted to stick out and be able to say, “I quit because I did not like my coach.” This was my “Sammy” moment. I regretted my decision very soon after. Seeing all of the pictures of my friends in their uniforms made me jealous and upset about my decision. I wanted my friends to think that I was not afraid to quit. My dad tried to talk me out of quitting, but I did it anyways. Lengel also tried to talk Sammy out of quitting by telling him he did not know what he was doing. “You don’t know what you’re saying”

I had just arrived at our small lake cabin, ready to go to bed. When I woke up the next day, I did my normal routine, eat, brush my teeth, comb my hair, and get dressed. With nothing to do at sunrise, I head outside, hoping to go on an adventure. But with no luck on a gloomy day I just ended up playing catch with my cousin. About 5 minutes later, my dad walked out, watching us play catch in the misty morning. “Morning!” I call as he trots up. “Mornin!” He calls back. “Do you know what would be fun?” I said. “Since it is supposed to be gloomy today, we should go see a movie.” “Oh, we’ll see,” he replies. I hold the bright neon ball, instead of throwing it. “Our softball team isn’t that good.” I mutter. “Huh?” My dad replies. “I just said that our softball team isn’t very good! I mean, we haven’t won a single game! And I’m kind of getting tired of it!” “Yeah, I know what you mean.” He replies There is a slight pause. then a grin breaks out on his face.”I know how you guys could possibly win more games!” My dad said with a chuckle in his voice. “Oh no! This can’t be good! I thought. What’s your idea?” “You should become the next pitcher on the Osceola U10

The sound of the whistle jolted me into action. I dove from the block, and a wave of silence crashed over me as I hit the water. For a moment, there was a sense of serenity as I swam under the surface. The spell broke as I rose for air. I could hear everyone yelling and cheering. Tuning out the noise, I tucked my head under the water, staring at the pool’s tiled floor. Nearing the wall, I lifted my head to gather a breath of air before my flip turn to start my second lap. Looking up, I saw five of my team members at the end of my lane cheering for me. With a renewed energy from their excitement, I turned and continued the race. After the race was over and I was out of the pool, I took my hard-earned ribbon and scurried back to where my swim