Personal Narrative: Playing In Dreams

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Every weekend in the summer I felt a sense of loneliness. Something no other normal kid would feel, almost like a drifter. I had a cowboy mentality from moving place to place tournament by tournament, but one Saturday was different. I traveled to upstate New York to play instead of Kansas City or Springfield. As my father and I drove about ourselves the trees around us seemed to engulf us; and the smell of pine car freshener everywhere you turn.
I found out we were traveling to Cooperstown New York for a tournament. There was embrace of only two things in that town baseball and the hall of fame. Playing in Dreams Park was a major shock to an eleven year old but soon turned to a quick reality. When I played centerfield for the Sedalia Bandits

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