In a baseball game, the bat hits the ball. I’ve never heard of the bat hitting a 5 year old’s head. How does something like that happen? Never will I ever again play with a bunch of boys. Especially if there swinging a baseball bat around in circles. A softball game on a hot summer day. My family was going to my dad’s softball game. Today was the championship playoffs. If his team won their first game, they would go on to their second game where they would go up against the, Mighty Mounds of Clay. Their name is weird, the way the play is weird and the fans cheering them on are weird. Though I don’t remember much, I can remember everything that happened before I woke up with a bright light in my eyes. I was 5 years old, I was shy and didn’t have much courage and talk to people. Making friends was always hard. So sitting with my mom and helping her with my baby brother was what I chose to do the whole game. Like I said, ‘I chose’. My mom told me that we had just won our first game and that we had about an hour wait before we went on to play our second game. She wanted me to go play with this big group of kids. They were all my age, More than half was boys and maybe there was about two girls. I had said, “Ok”. But inside, my heart was racing, my brain was telling …show more content…
Being that I was a little kid, I thought I was on my way to heavan. But soon, my representation of an angel turned in to a nurse. “Are you okay? Can you hear me?” I wake up, I say yes to her questions and go to sit up but she stops me and lays me back down. “don’t sit up, im going to get your parents.” I lay there in bed and wait. My mom and dad walk in and they smile, hug and kiss me. The nurse says that im able to go home and in few minutes. Time passes and im on my way home. My family calls to see if im okay and send gifts. I slept the rest of the day. Never again will I, play with a group of kids with a baseball
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.
baseball game my 3rd grade year . It was a beautiful day, a few clouds covering
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
I want to be a high school varsity baseball coach and later move on to college or the major leagues. Not only do I just want to be a coach, but I want to be one of the best coaches that ever coached a game of baseball. In order to do that I’m going to have to have courage, dignity within myself, and also be honest with myself in order for the players to be comfortable playing on my team. Growing up as a kid I always had a strong love for baseball and as I grew older I received a brotherhood from baseball, a place of peace, and also a comfort stage that helped me perform in front of people. My main goal as a coach is to reach out to the kids and minister to them. I wish to show them an alternative route from selling drugs and robbing.
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.
Growing up, I have always had a passion for baseball. To me, it is much more than just a sport. There have been times when it has acted as an escape from many problems in my life, as I feel that when I am on the diamond, nothing can hurt me. I am aware that many people feel this way about the sport they love, but sadly their careers often come to an abrupt end due to injury. I have a personal connection to this experience. 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
According to NCAA research, only 9.7% of college baseball players make the transition from college to the pros (“Estimated Probability”). The Huffington Post reports that about 1 in every 200 high school seniors who play baseball will eventually be drafted into the MLB (“How Hard Is It to Make It to the MLB?”). These numbers show how hard it is to make the pros. In order to become a successful baseball player, a person needs to know the steps to becoming a professional, understand how to find purpose in the organization, and picture what real success in general looks like, so that dreams can become realities.
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
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.
Softball was my main sport, but I did everything else until it was time to play softball. I fell in love with softball at an early age. I would play every summer or I was asked to play which helped me travel all over the place and meet new friends. Each year I played my love for the sport grew more and more. I played on multiple teams throughout the summer. Playing with one of my teams I gained the advantage to visit Santé Fe, New Mexico two years in a row to play softball. When I reached 8th grade I was excited about playing for the high school softball team until I figured out how it really was. Although I was not happy about having to sit on the bench, but I understood that I had to earn the privilege to play, and that the upperclassman were more seasoned.
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.
On that fateful day in March, I was a couple months shy of my third birthday. My family and I lived in New Mexico at the time and were renting a house with an outdoor in-ground pool. The day was beautiful. I was outside with my oldest sister Rachel and my father. Rachel was diligently reading curled up on a bench that sat against the house, and my father was mowing the backyard. My mother and my other sister were in the house. Off to one side of the house there was a group of large bushes. I was playing over there with one of her large cooking pots, off in my own little world. At one point while amusing and en...
I remember it as clear as day. It had been a fairly normal week, and a routine average day. It was a Friday and I was driving home from school in my trusty Toyota Tercel. I was getting into the dreaded mental set of the game that I would be playing in that night. I had to play in the band at halftime and it was the first performance of the season. The whole ride to my house I thought about the game and hoped and prayed that we wouldn't make huge fools of ourselves. Before I knew it, I was already home. I remember thinking that it felt like the shortest drive ever, getting to beautiful Rolling Oaks. When I got home, little did I know, that there would be a huge surprise waiting for me that would change my life forever.