Baseball seemed to be my life when I was a little kid. Playing catch, hitting balls, pitching, the whole nine yards. It has always a life long dream of mine to play Major League Baseball. I was a little kid with big dreams, nothing seemed to be impossible. I got older though, I started to realize some dreams were just too big.I couldn’t throw 100 MPH and didn’t have lightning fast speed. I realized I wasn’t going Pro in baseball but the most important thing I took away from it was the life lessons learned.
Baseball has always been called a game of mistakes. When you are batting you fail more often than not. You are considered a great player if you succeed only a third of the time. Yet to succeed, you must move past your failure and forget about it. When in the field you are likely to make an error at some point, it happens to everyone, it's about clearing your mind and moving on. I have always believed these lessons help me in my everyday life and the classroom. If I don’t do well on a test, forget my homework or I don’t do well on a project I don’t let it get me down. I think learning what you did wrong, fixing it, and getting it right the next time should be the goal. A failure needs to become a learning experience that you can build off of.
Baseball is a game I have been playing since the age of eight. Since then, I have been a phenomenal hitter. I was a right-handed hitter when I started playing baseball, and I was the best hitter in my age group. I always hit home runs when it was my turn to bat. The coaches who picked the teams argued about who would get the first pick because they all wanted to pick me first. Batting right-handed came naturally. I was young, and just picked up a bat and started swinging. Around this time, I played around swinging left-handed, but it was a complete failure, so I brushed it off to the side, forgetting about it for a while.
Playing baseball is something that would show up on a college application but its importance in my life can’t be overstated. Baseball has taught me many life lessons as well as opened doors that wouldn’t exist without it. The people that I have met, the coaches who have taught me the game, have all had a profound impact on the player and the person that I am today.
Initially, my mind was set to join the soccer team. However, I found out there weren’t any openings available. The only team that had an opening was The Cross Country Team. I was terrified…my parents encouraged me to join as there wasn’t an option not to.
Riley Timmons Mr.Forbes September 16, 2015 4th Hour Personal Narrative Broken Baseball Player The general definition of a teammate is a person who works with their team towards a common goal. Now what kind of teammate would I be if I stopped helping my baseball squad achieve their goal, just because I was injured? I tried to picture what the game would be like in my head; me sitting in the stands while my team lost the tournament. The fill-in pitcher for my team threw the batter an easy ball, resulting in another home run. It was probably 14-2 by now. I realized in that moment, it would be all my fault if we lost the game. I knew what I had to do. I played the game. It was a cold October night when I got hurt.The ambiance at the field was tense.
Have you ever enjoyed a sport so much you do it every day? I am a baseball player who has played for eleven years of my life. I have been playing baseball for so long, that now it is an everyday sport. Many decent teams have given me opportunities to play for them. As a result, I have had many different coaches. Over the past several years, many people have shaped my career and have made me a better player.
With the herbaceous smell of freshly cut grass and the salty taste of sunflower seeds, a baseball field strikes me as a place where I feel perfectly content. The wonderful home of the sport I have loved as long as I can remember brings a sense of calmness. Baseball fields remind me of great memories, give me a strong sense of confidence, and cause me to strive for a greater future.
Everyone 's at least broken a bone or injured themselves before right? Well this is one of those tragic stories where I unfortunately injured myself.
But eventually you look back on it and realize all you go through makes you who you are today and doesn't defeat you, but it strengthens you. Our failures make us stronger because we learn and grow from them. Failures are valuable because it gives a person more wisdom and can promote self-discovery. I discovered how hard I can work and what my potential was, academically and in my personal
I still regret my decision to not try, because if I put in the effort, I could have became someone new. Someone better. Being on this team, this family, will make me feel good about myself, it will press on me to persevere and to carry on. It will push me, to test my knowledge, to really help me advance. Even though I may not make it, an attempt is worth it.
As a student athlete, I have learned to use failure as an opportunity to learn. The moments in which I have "failed" have only helped me grow and reflect on the mistakes that not only I have made, but also those made by others. I was forced to do this multiple times throughout my final season of high school field hockey. Even though the team had players who were devoted and had a true desire to win, the season ended as a losing record in the books. As the primary goalie and captain, this was extremely difficult to accept.
In my life, I have been through so much in my life, from good times, to bad times, I had to make the best out of everything. Ever since I was a child, people have been making fun of because of my skin color, and what my beliefs are. I had to deal with that all of my life. You couldn’t live in my shoes, anyone could try, but all of them would fail. In my life I had, many hardships during my childhood, as a grown man playing in the MLB, and as a Senior. But first, I am going to tell you about my childhood.
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.
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.