When game day came along I had to go down to Papillion field where we were playing that day. I met up with my team and we started to play catch and walk to the metal cages with netting around it to hit. My coaches were in there throwing us soft toss and live pitching to get ready for our game. I waited a long time before it was my turn to hit in the cages.
It was pretty normal how I was hitting and I wasn’t hitting exceptionally well. Nothing while I was in the cages made me think that I was going to do something good that day. As we headed to the field I noticed the freshly cut grass and the newly prepared infield that was ready to be played on. We walked into the dugout and hung up our bags, while we were wearing our gold jerseys and white baseball pants.
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This is scoring some runs for each team. The first pitcher that the other team put in was too tired to keep going so he had to be taken out of the game. The new pitcher that was put in was not as good as the other one which allowed for me to have a better chance at doing something good.
The first time I went up I didn’t do as good as I thought I would and I ended up striking out after four pitches, which most times would put me down, but today I tried to not let it get to me. Sadly I had to wait another inning for my chance to hit again. When the next inning came along I was the first one up which meant that there was no one on base. I step up to the plate that is slightly discolored from all the times it has been slid on. I stand inside the batter’s box outlined in white chalk and and I’m ready to
To many, baseball is known as America’s pastime. They find it enjoyable to watch two teams strategize against each other in order to win each individual game. Many factors combine together to affect the outcome of the game. Usually the team with the most quality hits, fewest errors, and best pitching wins. One of the most important of these factors is decent pitching. If the pitcher is struggling it’s easier for the other team to get on base and score.
when I was ten years old I lost my grandpa, it was a very bad experience for me but it made me stronger. I remember when he taught me how to catch a baseball, ride a bike, mow the lawn and a lot of other things that I will forever cherish in my heart. the memory I will never forget though is when he taught me everything I needed to know about baseball. we would always go outside together and he would do certain agilities with me to build my stamina, teach me how to catch a pop-fly and he would work on pitching with me which is actually one of my main position that I play today. baseball was a big part of my grandpas life and he always wanted me to play In the major leagues. once he passed away my motives for playing in the major leagues increased.
From the time I first saw the game of baseball I fell in love. Even the first word I ever said was “ball”. I have baby pictures in my baseball uniform and whenever a baseball game would be on TV, I would act like I was playing there with them. So at an early age I knew I wanted to play baseball. Luckily, my dad was also very big into baseball and helped me almost every day. Some of my best memories came when we would practice baseball in the front yard, or even go to the local (missing word) and take batting practice.
baseball game my 3rd grade year . It was a beautiful day, a few clouds covering
As I lay on my bed, that night I could still hear the umpire calling “ballgame” and solidifying victory and our mark on Mountain Grove Softball history. The adrenaline and excitement of the moment were still running through my veins as my mind started to drift. I soon found myself thinking of
I never played travel ball, only recreation softball so I've never actually been on a team that I tried out for. Over the summer I went to batting practice and fielding to get ready for the year. This is my year, I thought ready to tryout and make the team. The day came to where I had to show what I could do to the coaches. It took a while for the tryouts to actually commence because there was so much rain that week that it kept getting pushed back. This made more nervous, I just wanted to get it over with. I worked hard throughout the tryouts, but when I went up to bat I could not hit the ball. I tried many times but I couldn't do it. I felt terrible because everyone else hit great. I was embarrassed. I freaked out, this is what could ruin my chance to be on the team. Even then I still tried my
Claim: I began baseball when I was 4 years old in little league where all the players parent and coach were with them along the way telling us what to do. And as i got older and more independent i started to know more and more of what as was doing.
When I was a ballplayer, my teams were very successful because my coaches told us the importance of practicing. One year my coach could not coach us because he did not have the time to do it. That same year the teams were shuffled and everybody had different teammates. My best friend, Wes Cook, made it on my team. Wes was the best player anybody had ever seen. However, He did not enjoy practicing. He thought he could succeed without practicing. Our new coach was laidback at practice. This made Wes especially happy. Coach did not make the team practice hard; we just had to catch fly balls, ground balls, and practice hitting. I batted third after We. My team, the Price Drug Braves, started the season hot; we won our first five games.
I started playing baseball right after I moved to Virginia, coming from California. At first I wasn’t that good, because I was only six years old at that time, but it was okay, because the other six-year old were not much better than me. It was the first time I was to play a sport, and it turned out to be my only sport later in
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 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.
As we step off the bus our noses are filled with the scent of the fresh food from the concession stand. My mind goes from the joking state that was present on the yellow bus to the killer mentality. As we make our way to the long dugout, the young fans from Fort Ann greet us with the usual high pitched cheers of how they believe the game will end. I make my way to the mound and feel the grainy dirt , as we have never been to Joe Bruno stadium before. Running this through my mind, I glance over to the section of students dressed in green and gold. They believe in me as I do myself. As the hard, but soft, ball runs through my hand, my pitching rival swings for the fences trying to end the game. The whiff of the bat is heard and we have recorded the final out. With two outs and the game tied, I feel my bat, as this could be the last time I ever use it. As the fast moving ball crosses in front of the pentagon shaped plate, I take a swing. My hips rotate, my hands back, the ball has carried over the gigantic wall. As the sweat runs over my lips, I make my way around the squishy bases, but it doesn’t feel like my career is over, rather it has just begun. I am met at home plate with ten loving teammates all dressed in the same cleats. We grab the wooden sectional title and kiss it over and over again as we climb into the screaming fans chanting with victory. As I am greeted with college coaches, I awaken from my slumber only to realize I must make my dreams my
A few days later I got signed up for t-ball because once I saw how my brother team played I felt like playing and I had a dream. My dream was to it was to be good as them. When I was playing t-ball the coaches had to teach me a lot because on the first day of practice I had know idea what was going on. So each practice, I come out and I heard “Jacob come in” coach said then I heard for the same coach “Put on your helmet and grab a bat, so I listen and then there was a tee on the side and I took the first swing and I miss the whole tee so the coach help me how to hit the ball and said keep
Several summers ago, I made my first All-Star baseball team for a local little league. When I heard that I was picked, I was overwhelmed with happiness. A lot of my friends and teammates in years past had made the team, but never me. I was finally selected by the head coach of the All-Star team, and considered it quite an honor.
One of the earliest memories I have of my father is when he would take me to the park and we would play baseball. My father was eager to teach me everything he knew about the game, and I was eager to learn. He took it easy on me at first, allowing me to overcome my fear of being hit by the ball. Each time we went back to the park he would throw the ball a little harder. It was not long before I could catch almost anything he threw at me. My father also used his knowledge of the game to teach me to hit a baseball. Eventually, I was skilled enough to play any position on a baseball team.