“Look out!” cried Sadie before everything went black. I always been horrible at baseball. Playing in gym was the worse. I always just stand in the outfield doing nothing. However, today was different, as the the ball came closer I wondered what I should do? Should I duck or catch it? At the age of four I tried to master the sport of baseball. Playing with my siblings has always been fun. But when it comes to the real game I’m definitely no pro. Trying to hit the ball, remembering how to hold the ball, and actually catching the ball have always been challenges. As a result I rarely play the game with anyone besides my siblings.
In almost every game I play I just stand there. It’s pointless to even play, yet I still do. The fact that I started
At first I was scared to play because I thought it was all about brute force. Almost like survival of the fittest. Then as I got into it, it turned out to be more about survival of the wisest. Instead of taking on these big guys we were fast enough to outrun them and tire them out. The lesson rugby, taught was that there is always another solution to a problem.
“Hit a homerun” I thought. The pitch was thrown, “Strike”called the umpire. My heart was racing because I really wanted to win this game. The pitcher threw the next pitch. “Strike”the umpire called again, I started getting a feeling that we were going to lose.
I stared in awe as I saw the glistening field. The sun was shining bright and there was a fresh breeze that filled me with all the hope a six year old could have. It was a perfect day, the kind of day that would have made Picasso paint. In my situation, this day gave me confidence, I wanted to learn more about this rollercoaster ride of emotion by the name of baseball. The sign up, the practice, the boys, the fail.
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.
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.
There are many things in my life that interest and excite me very much. Through all of these exciting things, baseball seems to stick out to me the most. It may be basic or very boring to many people, but to me it’s special in many ways. Ever since I was about two years old, I’ve played baseball. With these many years, I’ve faced many challenges, but I’ve had many achievements as well.
Since the beginning of baseball, each ball that has ever been made has exactly one hundred and eight stitches on them (“How Many Stitches Does a Baseball Have”). Baseball is without a doubt the most frustrating and challenging sport there is today. In the words of former Major League player and manager, Leo Durocher, “Baseball is like church. Many attend, few understand” (“Leo Durocher Quote”). This sheds just a little bit of light on just how difficult this game is to understand.
I take one foot out of the box and let out a breathe I didn’t know I was holding in. I once again looked to my coach Mike for direction and go to take a practice swing. Little did I know the catcher was getting up to pressure Maddy back to first base from her lead. As I was taking my swing I heard a thud, my bat had hit something solid.
As a student, I have grown in my skills for academic success by having to write an essay in my Honors English class. We’ve recently finished reading the novel The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, and were told to write an essay about one of the given prompts. Before having to write this essay, I was struggling with the type of vocabulary and perspective, which was third-person, I was supposed to use. I had to find the right quotes from the book and explain in detail how they support the prompt, I felt that was the hardest for me. The words “I” or “me” weren’t allowed in the essay, unless they were in quotes.
For most of my childhood, the sport of baseball was the one activity I loved above anything else. Nothing could compare to the exhilarating freedom and satisfaction of bolting full speed around the bases, determined to steal 2nd, beating the "Throwdown" by a fraction of a second. The massive dust cloud kicked up by my cleats and the thunderous boom of the umpire shouting, "Safe!" made me feel empowered. It was in moments like those, when I was in control of my own fate, choosing whether to stay or to run, whether to play it safe or to risk failure, that I learned one of the most important lessons of my life.
At the age of 5, I aspired to either become a professional athlete or an ESPN anchor. Ever since I could remember, I would kick a soccer ball around, dribble a basketball, or throw a baseball around with friends and family. I used to be the league champion and MVP of the team every season, but as time progressed, other competitors would rocket past in height and become the best players because of their size advantage. Although other young athletes became stronger and taller than me, it did not change the passion and commitment I had for sports.
Then next thing I know is there is two people in front of me before I am up to bat. So I get in my bag to get my batting gloves, helmet, and everything else I needed to go hit. I stand towards the front of the dugout till it is my turn to take some practice swings in the on-deck circle. The batter that was up got walked and now it was my time to do my pre-hit routine in the batters box. I took three swings, then stretch, then talked to people in the crowd to not sike myself out before
There is a saying in softball it’s that “however hard you work in practice is what is shown on game day”. When game day comes I know I’ll do just dandy if I did fine in
At first base I then watch our coach give the sign to hit to the next batter, he then turns to give me the steal sign. As I watch the pitcher start her motion all I can think about is running my hardest to get to the next bag. As the pitch is thrown I race my way and slide into the bag and hear to umpire scream “safe”. My teammates are screeching with excitement. As I get up off the sleek dirt I can taste nothing but small rocks with bland dirt carefully compiled into my mouth.
One night at baseball practice, competition elevated my level of play to where it needed to be. That night, for the most part had not been my night. I had been missing routine ground balls and throwing the ball off target constantly. It felt like I could do nothing right, until coach called for a fielding contest. Even though I had been struggling, now that every play mattered I hit my stride.