“Mom, I just cannot do this anymore. I don’t enjoy it anymore,” I remarked.
“You can stop, but know that quitting does not mean you should to give up,” she replied
At the start of high school my life began to take a turn. Up to that point my life had been predictable. I had the same friends, played the same sport, and was still an introverted person. My life was bland. Baseball is what I grew up playing throughout my childhood. It was that sport I looked forward to practicing, playing, and enjoying. As I started to get older, the people and coaches I played with changed. I began to play less, and wasn’t improving every week like I had hoped. I even tried out for the school team, but I was cut. For these reasons, my dedication to this sport was deteriorated. Trying out for the school team wasn’t what I wanted to do, but it’s what I presumed everyone expected of me. Once I ran passed this realization, I stopped playing baseball. This is not how I envisioned the future.
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Although, I felt that quitting baseball was not the finish to my journey. This was the start of high school, with new opportunities staring at my face. Still passionate about sports, I anticipated finding another that intrigued me. At lunch one day, I told my friend about quitting baseball and how I wanted to try something new. I profoundly reminisce him saying, “If you want a challenge, come run track with me.” My knowlege of track wasn’t immense, but I knew that running was something I craved to do more of. Therefore, I needed execute this challenge for myself. After all of the years of playing baseball because of the expectations I thought were on me, I stepped out of my comfort
As soon as I made my very first varsity baseball appearance, I knew that I had to be the very best I could be or there was never going to be a chance of ever putting on that white and maroon crisp cleaned dri-fit Russel number 18 jersey. My heart was beating beyond faster than it should be at my first at bat because I had always heard “Just wait you haven't seen nothing yet, wait till you face them varsity pitchers.” Players older than me had constantly been saying that throughout my freshman season and it kept repeating over and over in my head like a broken record. Although I had studied the pitcher and had seen with my very own eyes, he wasn’t as good as everyone talked him up to be. I was still overawed and very nervous about messing up.
One summer day, me and my sister penelope received a call from my aunt. The call was to ask if we would go to a baseball game. Well of course we agreed, why would we not go to what would be our first game. The date was set, it was a day before Independence day. I was very excited I counted down on my cute marble print planner with a big blue sticker phrased “ seize today”. Finally I’m going to do something for the summer!
Do you know the feeling you get when you’re doing the thing you love most in the world, for me that is baseball. My participation in sports influenced my skills in multitasking and handling multiple stressful situations at once. I play sports every season possible, teaching me about myself and all my friends on one team growing up into adults. I have maintained sports, grades, and jobs for four straight years without being ineligible one time. The people I am surrounded by around sports, young or old mold my future of being a successful adult. I thank every single coach, and teammate for helping me with all of my accomplishments, the biggest one being the Champion of a Varsity Baseball District Title.
I’ve taken part in baseball since I was 3 years old, it is by far my favorite sport. It truly holds something very special to me, because I look forward to it each year. When the season ends I enjoy it for about 2 weeks off, but then realize I’m not going to have another team practice til next year. My 9th grade year of sports took a turn of events when I tore my meniscus during football season. I had surgery March 8th of 2017. I couldn’t play that season and I was pretty depressed seeing all my buddies play. I remember hobbling over to meet Coach Boom and introducing myself saying I could help out doing stats for him. I tried to keep myself involved but it was hard not playing and just sitting on bench watching my family
We were in the streets of the neighborhood, Ann Elizabeth to be exact. We had just began to play a game of baseball with my brothers new metal bat. Mom had already left for work and my dad was getting ready to leave as well. He was running sort of late. My brother and I were about to start the game, we check around us to make sure no one was near us to play a safe game. We saw our little sister and brother at the front doors neighbor's house playing with their daughter last time we checked. As my brother threw the baseball, I was getting ready to swing then bam! Before I knew it the bat had already crashed into my little brother's head. Let me remind you that this was a metal bat. A metal bat had ran cross my little brother's head. I was so terrified. My little brother was only 4 at that time. I did not know what to do. I held him in my arms. He was still conscious. I was holding my hand over his open wound. He bled a lot. My other brother had ran to let my dad know. My dad came rushing outside,
The passion I have for baseball would not exist if I didn’t have Tom and Melissa as my little league coaches. They coached me for only one year of my life, and that one year changed everything about me. I wouldn’t be the same at baseball and I wouldn’t be the same kid if it wasn’t for Melissa and Tom. They had certainly changed my life forever.
I step up to the plate. The hot lights of the Mets stadium hit my face. Clayton Kershaw was pitching. He is the best pitcher in the MLB. The pitch comes. It was a slow hanging curveball right over the middle. I swing will all my might. I hear the crack of the bat and I see the ball fly over the fence. I trot around the bases and I am approaching home plate. I step on home then I wake up.
It was a chilly Monday night as I finished putting on my baseball uniform. I was nervous because it was the championship game. We were playing our rival team, the Yankees. My close friend Tom was their pitcher, and he struck out a lot of people. Tonight, I was going to get a hit off of him. At least I hoped so. I heard a beep in the driveway and realized it was my mom who was ready to go. ¨ Coming Mom!¨ I shouted through the garage door. As I jogged to the car, I could not stop thinking about getting a hit off of Tom.
The air was cold and eerie as my teammates and I got ready to take the field for baseball practice. Our coach called for a night practice in the middle of September following our devastating loss in the championship game a few weeks ago. “Let’s go! Start running laps around the field!” my coach shouted as players were still getting dressed and warming up. Most of my teammates still shattered by the championship loss weren’t feeling enthusiastic about practicing. We finished running our laps and moved on to the next portion of our practice which was long tossing. I wasn’t aware that such a routine practice would be the one to change my life.
I always consider myself to play Major League baseball; as I grew up; I realized that I would need a backup plan. By the seventh grade I noticed that I liked to do hands on activities and problem solve difficult tasks. I displayed all the interests of an electrical engineer. I believe that the interest really may have started at an even younger age. My father has been a maintenance technician for almost 25 years. In say that, I enjoyed watching my dad fix things which sparked my interest in fixing things, or at least look into the engineering field.
I love the smell of fresh cut grass on a beautiful baseball field. The look of it is amazing, but the smell brings back so many past memories. All through my life I've played baseball for travel teams and such. Playing on the best fields in the nation, and the fields always getting looked after. So whenever I step on a Baseball field now, I'm taken back to my times as a kid playing baseball with my friends over the summer going to all types of places.
Have you ever loved something so much, your world would be incomplete without it? For me, that is baseball. From t-ball to high school, many of my life lessons have been learned on the field. Without baseball, I would not be the person I have become. I am now six-foot four and throughout my childhood I have always been at least six inches taller than my peers.
Everybody has memories they will never forget. The first of mine is playing baseball when I was six years old. My dad had always played sports and I wanted to follow in his footsteps. Baseball was my dream at a young age and it all started with the Tigers. I’ll always remember stepping onto the field for the first time and feeling the excitement rush through me. I was lucky enough to get the opportunity to be the team’s starting catcher. I liked the feeling of being in command behind the plate and felt like I had some sort of control over the game. I don’t remember a whole lot about the first game, but I do remember my first hit. I can tell you that I’ve never felt so excited in my life as I connected with the ball and began running to first base. I knew that made my dad extremely happy.
People experience failure on a regular basis. While failure is often viewed as a negative experience, failure also has the potential to teach us many important lessons. A memorable time I experienced failure was when I was cut from the baseball team my sophomore year. Baseball has been important to me throughout my life. I have always enjoyed playing, watching, and talking about baseball.
Over the next couple years, I had no interest in anything that had to do with baseball or the Red Sox as it would remind me ever so much of my grandfather who I had experienced so much of this game with. Skateboarding became my main focus, giving up all my skills I had acquired in my youth as a ball player, missing the most crucial years of baseball development as a pre-teen. Once in a while I would hear from old coaches, but still had no interest. In October of 2003, I decided I would watch the Red Sox once again considering they were in the playoffs, only to be heartbroken by their dramatic extra inning loss to the Yankees in the American League Championship Series. Once again, I could only think of my grandfather who I had such an attachment with over the Red Sox and the game of baseball.