Descriptive Essay: The Batter's Ball

The first pitch that the coach threw to me seared the hair right off my head since it was going so fast. “Strike one!” called the ump. Alright, I needed to believe in my abilities. The next pitched was hurled right in line with my face! When I opened my eyes, I saw that the baseball was a perfect pitch and the catcher hadn’t moved his glove. The coach was making a fool out of me with his famous curve ball. “Strike two!” the umpire proclaimed. The next pitch was the one that I would make my mark on. The pitcher wound up and thrust the ball toward the catcher’s glove. I loaded and fiercely swung as hard as I could. After what seemed like forever, I looked into the catcher’s glove, and there was the ball. I felt dreadful. “Strike three!” I heard in the background. As I walked back to the dugout, I wondered what did I do wrong, what could I have changed, and what does the coach think of

The game of baseball is a game of skill played with a bat and and ball. The game is between two teams of nine players each on the field at the same time. Baseball is played on a field which usually covers about two acres. A baseball field is divided into two sections, the infield and the outfield. The infield is the shape of a diamond and stretches ninety feet down each side.

I step out of the batters box to gather myself. I take a couple of check swings. I tell myself now you are ready. I Step back into the batter’s box and prepare myself for the next pitch. In my mind, I am thing if he pitches a fast ball I am going to swing for the heavens. The pitcher throws a fast ball. I can see the ball moving towards me as if it was moving in slow motion. My eyes zoom in on the ball like a pair of binoculars. I swing it is a hit into the outfield over the centerfielders head. I run with

I licked my lips, baked from the dry air, in an attempt to calm myself. After four long seconds, the umpire gave the signal and the ball set was in motion. As the baseball was released from the pitchers finger tips, I forced myself to get into ready position, lifting my leg up and extending my arms back for a big swing. I immediately recognized it was an inside curveball but hesitation took over me resulting in a late swing. My heart skipped a beat as I waited for the umpire to make the call.

The glare is no longer in my eyes and I can finally see and I look at the pitcher, I get in my stance, take a deep breath and then I don't hear anything. I hear no cheering, no chants, no yelling. All I can hear is the slap of the glove, all I can see is the dirty green softball coming fast down the line. My eyes narrow in, I shift my weight and swing. "CRACK!" was the noise from the ball making perfect contact with the ball I start running around the bases and so do my teammates. I don't even pay attention to where the ball is I just keep running. Rounding second base I look up at my coach and he is jumping up and down yelling for me to slide into home so down I go knocking the catcher down with me. I get up to my teammates running out and tackling me back down to the ground with

My breakfast started to creep back up my throat as game time got closer and closer. I walked across the patch of grass behind home plate and was towered over by the 30 foot backstop with a huge net suspended from it. My bulging bag of equipment was beginning to make my shoulder hang. I walked down the steps into the cement dugout and placed my bag under the bench that spanned the entire length of the dugout. I sat down, laced up my cleats, and put my warm-up jacket on in preparation for batting practice. I stepped onto the grass surrounding the dugout to get the feeling of how wet the grass was. I dug my cleats into the grass and began my usual routine of taking certain practice swings as I gazed upon the press box in the wake of the backstop. Preceding the burn in my forearms, caused from the practice swings, I marched behind the dugout to the rows of batting cages to wait my turn in line. Pacing back and forth I knew I had to keep my nervousness to a minimum. I popped in a wad of Big League Chew and continued to

I told myself, "come on Lina you can do it," next thing I knew it was two strikes and three balls. it's now or never Lina strike three the ball was over the fence and into the street but it was as if it turned around and headed right for me I put my glove up and felt something hard hit my hand I caught the ball but it was already too late the girl already hit a grand slam(she got four people in including herself)my eyes started burning I tried to hold them back some very strange back but I felt something sliding down my cheek I ran into the dugout and I could not stop my feet. I got to my mom I held her like there was no going back, all I felt was a warm body hugging me. I slowly looked up and cried "I don't want to play I disappointed my hole team."

I click my cleats with my bat and dig a hole in the batter's box and stair at the pitcher. The pitch comes in slow almost in slow motion. I swing as hard as can. I hear the crack of the bat and I see the ball fly over the fence. I can't believe it. I never thought in a million years I would ever hit a homerun. I hear my teammates screaming. I round first, I'm almost at second when the shock wears off and I realize that I just won the game. A huge smile crosses my face as I round third and head for home. I get closer and closer to home. I stomp on home. Then before I know it the lights go out.

The start of the spring meant baseball season was right around the corner, and our team was hungrier than ever. Our team had high expectations for ourselves, coaches, and even parents. Every day the warm sun beaten down from our shaded faces to the hard dirt, this marked the perfect time to take sharply hit ground balls and pop flies in between the sacred bright white chalk lines. We took drills on the perfect cut green grass surrounded by the four bases shaped into the perfect diamond, evenly separated ninety feet apart. My team always moved with abrupt hustle feeding for every rep possible, while each metal spike from our cleats gripped tightly into the earth.

The first pitch came in. ¨Ball outside,’’ the umpire said as I stepped out of the box to take a breather. The second pitch came in as a Strike as I tried to get a hack at it but it broke across the plate. I stepped out of the box to regain my composure. Bases loaded 1 out. The third pitch came in and was a fastball that was traveling across the plate at 72 miles per hour, but I got my bat on it at the right time and the ball was in the outfield in a matter of seconds. The ball rolled passed the outfielder as I ran the bases as fast as I could. The outfielder struggled to get the ball in and threw to the cutoff man. By the time he got it in I was already at third for a straight up triple to score three runs to tie it up . “ Timeout,” I called as I took off my helmet and got ready to pitch.Jose took my place to pinch run for me as I needed to start warming up to pitch.

I felt ready; I felt prepared for this. I see the pitcher wind up to pitch to me. I see the pitch leave his hand and then I swing with all my life's practice at the sport of baseball; I see the ball way out in the outfield. I crushed it. I realized that the farthest ball I hit all season was left handed. I was shocked, I couldn't believe it. I then run down the line grinning and I hear my whole dugout laughing. But as I thought I hit a home run, the outfielder was right under the ball and catches it. I didn't care, I took my helmet off my head and started putting my fists in the air. The umpire then told me to put it back on so I did, but I couldn't believe

I loaded my bat to let her know I was ready. She started her wind up and threw a changeup on the outside corner of the plate. I locked my eyes on the ball, and swung my bat. I took my hands to the ball, and snapped my wrists as the bat hit the ball. As I followed through the ball flew over the first baseman's and the

It was a nice and sunny day, with birds chirping and the smell of freshly cut grass. I felt the leather on my baseball glove and the delicious taste of cereal. I’m ready to play some baseball.

We still have a chance to hit being down only 1 run. So after getting out of the bottom of the sixth inning we got to go in and hit and it was our last inning to change this whole game around. The inning started with the the top of the order. The first batter struck out, second batter grounded out, and the third batter stepped up to the plate and watched five pitches go by which made the count go 3-2, which if he watched a pitch go by and the umpire called it a strike the game would be over. In this case I think he had faith in God and just swung and it happened to make contact with the ball, I figured that it was out of the park but it was only a triple and I believe to this day that had lifted the spirits of my whole team and I. Then I was up to bat and all that was going through my mind was how could I ever one up that hit, to keep my team alive in this game? So now it was my turn to step up to the plate, so I get set up in the box and I make the sign of the cross on home plate, I make the sign of the cross because I believe that it is my talisman. So as I am stepping into the box, I take a deep breath and at that very moment I started to hear my heartbeat and it seemed to have slowed down. I saw the first pitch go low and into the dirt, the second one was high and outside. As the third pitch leaves the pitcher's hand I sat back and saw it go right down the

I was getting very nervous, because all three of us were hitless today. Okay, we need base runners, and we need them now. Don’t try to do too much, just get a hit. I thought. The first pitch was a fastball right down the middle of the plate, a perfect pitch to hit. My eyes got big, and my mind said swing, but before I could react, the ball was past me.