My friend Kyle used to live on the Blane's culdesac back in middle school. Neighborhood lore is that it's called that because Nathaniel Blane used to meet one of his lovers there, Peabody or something like that. I bet you're not here for the history lessons though, so I'll just cut to the chase about what happened last August. Kyle and I met on the schoolbus, living so close to one another and all. We didn't have any classes together, but he would always sit in the back of the bus with his four siblings, chatting with one another. While we were in the culdesac they would always talk about this weird black striped squirrel that lived outside their house, but when the bus left that part of the neighborhood they would always talk about something I could actually join in on, like The Brady Bunch. …show more content…
We would always have to bunt the ball to try and keep it from flying over the rusted steel fence, but one day Tommy hit it full force and uh...I'm sorry it's just that this part, this part is the one that always gets me, ya know? You get a wife and a mortgage and you think you would stop waking up screaming, but it ain't ever that simple is it? So Tommy hits the ball full force right in the middle, sounds like lightning cracking, and it's a clear pop fly, looks like it's going to go clear out of the culdesac. The ball is about to go past the fence when out of nowhere it smashes into this crow. The crow and the ball both fell right next to each other and I know you have a lot of experience in this field, but you ever watch something die, and feel it in yourself too? The crow was sputtering on the ground but these hordes of ants were already on it. The poor bastard looked like it was trying to flap its wings to get away, but there were hundreds of ants on 'em, just plucking at its feathers and flesh with their pincers so fast that we could see
What has 18 legs and catches flies? A baseball team! Baseball is a well-known sport throughout the world and is also known as the United States’ national pastime. In John Updike’s essay, “The First Kiss,” he illustrates the start of a new baseball season and the attitudes of the fans. Updike incorporates strategies such as metaphors, imagery, and irony to convey his attitude about the fans so that he is able to invoke an emotional response from his audience.
on day in early june gablin was sitting in the dugout of the san jose sunbirds stadium remembering last season. It was the eighteenth inning of the second game of the Western Division play-offs against the Santa Ana Lionettes and Gamblins idol. Carol Spanks was at the plate Spanks lined the ball to the left of third base a shot lit so hard that it pulled the glove off Gamblins hand and rolled onto the artificial turf Gamblin scrambled for the ball spun around and threw her idol out at first base. It was she thought the best play she ever made.
Upon further investigation, baseball is more than just “One, two, three strikes you’re out,”there is a whole world of physics interacting and exerting itself upon the game, unseen to the human eye. So next time one sees a batter hit a home run off a knuckle ball at Coors Field in Denver, one will have a great appreciation for the physics of the game that came into play within that play.
I first met Bob our freshman year at State College. We were studying an arts program there and became acquainted through a number of classes that we shared. By the second year, we had become friends and decided to live together in an off-campus apartment. We shared that living arrangement until we graduated last year.
I dropped the bat in amazement. I shot for first I touched the square bag with ease. They got the ball to first when I was second. Now I started to pick up speed. This time I hit second with more force than ease. Right after I hit the bag the ball was at second base. Now it was a run for my money, I ran as fast as I could. I hit third as hard as I could. They got the ball to third right as I got off now home was the only base left.
I consider myself to be a hard worker when I study and work, who honestly loves school. My favorite classes of 8th grade are honors geometry AB, Investigation and Science & IED. I love these classes because when I solve problems experiment it feels like it's a big puzzle that is in need to be put together and I'm a person who likes to figure things out. I believe that my interactions in these classes are to be a cooperative learner and I participate in the class or group discussions. A description of myself when I work is that I am a very fast learner, so when it comes to doing independent project or tests, I finish very fast so I have a really large amount of time to check over and fix simple mistakes. Although, when I am working with my peer
I felt as though I was watching a train barrelling towards me, an inevitable bullet that had come tumbling out of the opposing pitcher’s arm. But instead I stood immobilized, watching my team's only chance of winning whiz by me. Strike three. I heard my team from behind me shouting “SWING!” with my mind screaming the same. But my bat remained unmoving, the pop of the catcher's glove like the nail into the coffin that was our defeat. All I had to do to keep our hopes of winning hope alive was swing, and yet I couldn't. I stayed on the field afterwards, tossing the ball up in the air and swinging away, landing it on the thick maple barrel of the bat.
We had many common things. We both were born and brought up in the same city in the big house with siblings. Both being youngest were very pampered. And we were the most liked person in our family too. We both are very close to our family and are still in touch with our immediate relatives. Although we grew up in different era, we both were brought up with similar set of traditional
Strike Three America, and the world love sport; there are hundreds of types, but the one thing that links them all together is the emotion. For players and fans alike, the emotional involvement with the game is what draws them to it; and for Americans, there is one sport in particular that ignites their passion – baseball. Baseball has been called “America’s pastime” for a reason; the suspense, drama, and pride wrapped up in this game have captivated generations. The poem, “Casey at the Bat” effectively captures the emotion tied to the sport of baseball. “Casey at the Bat” is a poem about the last inning of a Mudville baseball game.
I, admittedly, do not pay nearly enough attention to my young cousins. This becomes deeply ironic if one were to tally up the amount of time I have spent acknowledging the “value of thought produced from society's younger members” or expressing a general awe of the human imagination, but when visiting family in small-town Georgia during the summer, the prodigious heat of the South leaves me generally unsociable and content to spend my days reading alone under the magnolias. Two of my cousins- who partly inhabit my grandfather's house due to a seemingly never-ending animus divorce- would always position themselves near me, drawing or tapping at something electronic. I had been four years old when the older of the two was born and, and in the brief window in which we were all at the same low ranking in the family, I remember constant comradery. As I finally grew into an age my sister deemed appropriate for friendship, though, the relationship I once held with my cousins seemed to simply slip away.
Last night was my 1st cross country meet this year! It was VERY fun and enjoyable, except for ride there. It took more than an HOUR to arrive at the meet. My team was very thrilled and happy to participate in this 1 mile meet. The rest of my meets will be 2 miles, since I'm in Middle School. I did pretty well, just like the rest of my team. We will hopefully do just as well, if not better in one of our upcoming meets. We have 5 more we compete in, as well as a daily practice after every school day. I LOVE running cross country, it is really fun and YOU should consider trying it
Initial contact came the moment he caught my eye during cross-country. I perceived immediate attraction and my friends began referring to him as Paige’s crush. Similarity of interests connected us and provided opportunities for interactional contact through high school soccer. The relationship developed from afar as we watched and learned about each other through the proximity of our neighborhoods, living only a mile apart. Exhilarating, heart-pumping rushes of emotion overwhelmed me each time John called. Showing Interest, John pursued me and wanted to spend time together. Our personalities meshed. Uncontrollable Duchenne smiles took over when I saw or thought about him. Team dinners required no need to speak because our nonverbal communication and eye contact said it all, demonstrated by winks and silly faces. By the end of the summer we were bound and officially dating.
I met Kimmy in the seventh grade when we had the same class. It was a normal student class but
He opened his heart to me and from that day on, I looked for friends willing to do the same. As I grew older, I met two of the most converse individuals in the world. When I was first introduced to Chris and Desmond, I did not know what to think. Everyone said that they were best friends, but for some strange reason, I just could not understand why. As time passed, we became closer and we grew fonder of each other.
Mine and Caleb’s friendship did not end there. We both joined the basketball team at our high school. We both sat the bench, and even though we only ever played the last 30 seconds of the games, we had fun talking about what interested us. We mostly discussed video games, movies, and