Personal Narrative Essay: Earthquakeball

It is the bottom of the seventh inning. The opposing team is up by one run with 2 outs. We have runners in scoring position, and I am up to bat. No one thinks much of this small, scrawny kid who strikes out every time she is up to bat. The pitcher starts her windup and lets the ball go. “Strike”, the umpire yells behind me. My team is yelling and cheering in the dugout, and my coach is shaking his head at third base. The pitcher lets lose another pitch. “Strike two”, the umpire yells again. I think to myself, here is my chance to prove to everyone that I am not this weak kid who can barely hit the ball. The pitcher is back in the center of the mound; she is ready to throw the final pitch that could end the game. She lets lose a 60 mph fastball right down the center. It is the dream pitch for every softball player out there. I watch the ball spin almost able to read the print on the ball. I wait for the ball to get deep into the zone of the batter’s box. I let rip one of the best swings I can muster up. “Strike Three! Batter is out!” the umpire yells. I missed. My incredible swing would go unnoticed because I failed my team. The other team is running to hug each other because they get to move on in the tournament. I let my team down. We could have won or at least tied, but I couldn’t put the bat on the ball. My team

Every strike out is only a mere road block in my life, a chance to better myself as a player and as a person. Failure tests not only the ability to overcome and move on, but the ability to get stronger physically and mentally. You grow with people close to you through failure and mistakes. Being a softball player has taught me to accept failure in everyday life. I never expect to fail, but I’m not surprised when I do because as a human, I’m not perfect. Thomas Edison had 1,000 unsuccessful attempts in creating a light bulb. It only takes one successful attempt to change the world for the