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Sporting injuries research projects essays
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Have you ever been knocked out playing baseball? Well I have been.
It happened during a warm night in volonia about to play a game . I was warming up in the outfield and I was warming up with a 12 oz baseball. Why was I warming up with a 12 oz base ball I don’t know? Ok back to the story. So me and another fellow teammate was throwing around a 12 oz baseball and when he threw it into my glove WHACK!! It hit me in the face and I was out cold for about ten seconds then my coach shook and almost had a heart attack. Everyone was freaking out because where the ball hit me it was a little close to my temple. So got up and me and my mom got in my truck and we went to conway to a hospital. When we got there I was hurting and a hour later i'm in the
I love baseball. I love to play baseball and read baseball comics. I have read a lot of Japanese baseball comics, and almost all Japanese baseball comics’ heroes were fastball pitchers. This comic’s hero was a typical typed pitcher in Japanese baseball comics. He could throw the fastest fastball in his team, and became the ace pitcher of his team when he was a freshman.
As a kid, I was born and raised to love the great game of baseball. Many young kids have had dreams to become professional athletes, and achieve prestigious awards/ titles. Like many kids I’ve always dreamed of becoming a professional baseball player. As a younger kid with my head in the clouds, I never really knew what it was like to put my actual blood, sweat, and tears into something I loved, until my worst season I had ever played. This whole story starts in the beginning of my ninth grade baseball season. It started out different from every other year because, of course I was a freshman. This was the first year I had ever practiced with the varsity squad, it was much more difficult, but I still figured I was going to do great. After weeks
For the past eight years of my life I have been playing softball. It all started when I was eight years old and my dad took me to my first softball practice. I was thrilled to be playing a sport. My dad grew up playing baseball and his sisters played softball so he was ecstatic when I was finally old enough to play. I loved softball for the first 4 years of playing when it was all fun and games. In middle school softball became harder and more competitive and I slowly started to lose interest in it. I thought high school softball would be different; I would love my teammates, make varsity, and all along have a great first season of highschool softball… I was wrong.
The summer before my fourth grade year I was attending a basketball camp at Davidson College, when in the final seconds of a scrimmage game, my ankle was kicked out from under me. I immediately fell to the ground in pain as my ankle rolled over on itself. Coaches aided me in limping off of the court and to the training room
Baseball was my life for fifteen years; learning values and tracing favorite memories back to my baseball journey make me grateful for these experiences. However, after a year of playing baseball in college while battling an injury, I decided to alter my goals; ultimately choosing to leave baseball behind. Finishing out the school year and anticipating what I might expect in the future left me feeling lighter; I believed I made the right choice. While on summer break, reflecting on my decision and thinking about my next journey, I became uncomfortable: I was no longer athletically active; I was no longer dedicated to a team, and I did not anticipate the search to find myself would leave me feeling uneasy. My fresh start began by transferring
As I layed in my bed on a cold and windy Friday night, i could hear the roar from Fenway park across the street. The Red Sox had a game tonight against their long time rival the New York Yankees. Their games would always be so thrilling and so exciting to be at, i was a young 15 year old boy who like everyone else wanted to be a MLB baseball player. I had always dreamed about playing on that beautiful and playing against those Yankees. Living in Boston mostly everyone here absolutely hates the yankees. I was having a hard time going to bed so i looked outside and was looking at all the people outside walking outside the Ballpark.
With seconds to spare I arrived at batting practice and began to prepare for my game. I hear coach call out my name and as I he acknowledged that I was there he told me I was pitching. My brain shifted and went into a whole new mode, I was more focused and more determined than I have ever been. This was the biggest baseball game of my career and I 'm starting on the mound. Honestly it couldn 't have turned out any better, the fate of the pin and my team lied in my hands and I loved the pressure. The pressure made me thrive and before I knew it our team was marching onto the field for the national anthem. During the singing of the national anthem I peeked into the crowd and first row down the first base side was the little boy I met on the cart and his dad sitting right next to him. This game was for that little boy, I needed to impress him. I pitched six strong innings and my team ended up winning the game. It was the most exciting game of my career and the best part was being greeted with the best pin in the tournament after such a spectacular win. The little boy ran out into the middle of the field where we shook our opponents hands and in front of everyone in the stadium handed me the only thing I cared about besides winning. I was in the best mood for the rest of the day and I rewarded myself with a nice long sleep. I could only image what the next day had to
I encountered a “bump in the road” at a young age. I began playing softball at age six when Kylie, my elementary school friend, came to show and tell with her first place T-ball trophy. At the time, I had only played soccer, but the thought of swinging a bat as hard as I could and having people in the stands cheer for me, inspired me to ask my mother to register me for the local recreational league. Before I knew it, I was lacing up last year’s soccer cleats and stepping up to bat in my first coach-pitch softball game. My father, being the coach, stood on the mound and lobbed in the fattest meatball every hitter dreams of. With the ding of my second-hand garage sale bat, the ball sailed over the shortstop. Some may have called it beginner's luck, but I called it a sign.
Baseball means a lot to me. I’ve only started getting interested when Aiea was undefeated in the league matchups. Because of my competitiveness, I wanted to join a team that plays to win but have fun at the same time. I know I won’t be a great asset to the team because I have never played before, but I am willing to practice as hard as I can to get a position.
All throughout high school I played on the softball team. Proceeding the season before where we went undefeated with a district championship, my senior year we were supposed to be unstoppable. We received a few new players to add on to our army and the entire school was counting on our run to state. I was so excited to have an amazing end to my high school softball career, but unfortunately my dream was cut short when we lost in the first round of districts. I did not know that loss would change me the way it did.
When I was eight years old my farther enrolled me to play little league baseball at the Sports Complex. At the time I had never played a sport and I was very intimidated to try it out. I did not want to go to my fist game but my dad told me, “try it out, if you don’t like it you can find something else to do.” So I went fourth and played the game, to my surprise I was really good at playing the game. So from that day on I had a passion to play baseball. Through out my high school years I was involved in many baseball organizations and played baseball for my local high school. I enjoyed traveling with my teammates to different cities to play baseball. It was always an adrenaline rush stepping on to the baseball field because I knew I was playing ball with such great teammates and doing what I like to do. Though out the years baseball became an important aspect to my life. My dream was to master high school baseball and go into college division baseball.
The horn blew and the game started, Dedham won the face off and is running down the field at a faster pace than I was used to. They shot the ball! I couldn’t move my stick quick enough to save it, so I threw my body in front of it and got hit right in the shoulder. It hurt a lot, but what I hadn’t realized was that it hit my shoulder and reflected ten feet away from the net where my player caught it and ran down the field and scored. The other team didn’t know what hit them. It was the half now and the score was three to nothing in our favor. Our couch told us that we needed to keep up the good work.
At a baseball game The atmosphere a fully packed Fenway is different, the big green walls of the oldest stadium still in use. Before you enter the stadium, you can hear the crowd, the cheers and sometimes the boos. Though you can hear the crown outside the stadium, it’s different when you walk in, the crowd is louder more clear. As you enter the 112-year-old stadium you can hear them chanting something, “Let’s go Red Sox, let’s go Red Sox!”
I was in P.E at the time. It was dodgeball today, as the big gym was in use for Band. Since my throwing hand was broken at the time I was a meat shield for my friends. I vividly remember drop kicking a ball across the room after it hit me in the face (Due to a short fuse when it comes to dodgeball.) when the alarm went off.
The game was a little ways away from our home so we had to pack some extra food and of course, all of the team’s gear that we had. We finally left the house and by the time we got there, it was about an hour and a half before the game started. We took pictures in front of the stadium, you know, what all families do when they do these kinds of things. After that, it was finally time to go into the stadium. As we were going in, I heard a thump noise behind me so I looked back.