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Baseball-Personal Narrative

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“This one is coming to you Vee!” my dad yelled! I was at baseball practice. I was in the outfield, the overgrown and bee infested outfield. My dad picked up the bamboo bat, threw the ball up in the air, and swung the bat. The ball went sailing over my head. I ran, and ran, and ran all the way to the ball. I picked up the ball and fired it to the cutoff man. “OW!!” I exclaimed! My arm had hurt like it had never hurt before. It was a sharp pain, that ran up and down my arm, like mice scurrying away from a cat. My dad jogged over. He told me to take a break. So I sprinted over to the bench and watched my team practice. By the time practice was over my arm did not hurt anymore, so I just ignored it. Every practice the same thing would happen, …show more content…

I did my usual, boring warm ups, that stretched my arm out. Then I went and started warming up with the catcher. About 10 minutes later it was game time. I stepped out from the dugout onto the dusty field. Once again I threw a couple more pitches, then the umpire yelled, “PLAY BALL!” The first batter stepped up to the plate. I walked him on four straight pitches. The pain in my arm was back. Five runs had already scored in the first inning. There were 2 outs and bases were loaded. I threw the pitch. The batter swung and hit this one to the furthest part of the field it can go without going over the fence. While the batter was running the bases I was grasping my …show more content…

You would be in more pain than that, if you had tendonitis,” he explained. About a week later my team went to the batting cage. I when we came in my dad said that I was up first. I slapped my helmet on and slithered under the netting. I stepped up to the plate. “Here comes the first one,” my dad yelled trying to be louder than the old, rickety, pitching machine. The pitch came flying towards me. I took a step, started swinging and… “OWW!” I screamed in agony! This had topped any pain I had ever had. My bicep had felt like a million tiny men were stabbing me with sharp knives. My dad told me to go take a break. I ran upstairs in the viewing area, where my mom was sitting. My mom felt my arm and it hurt so much. She ran down the stairs and told my dad that she was taking me to the doctor. “Tendonitis,” the doctor said, after many different tests on my arm. “You see, the only way to cure tendonitis is rest, that is why it is so bad to have. You can’t play for another week,” the doctor explained. He gave the number to the Sports Medicine Doctor to my mom. We drove home and told the news to my dad. So the next few games I rode the pine (sat on the bench). I went to the Sports Medicine doctor with my

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That game I ended up tearing my ACL on the 8th play of the game, and just like Tony Gwynn’s world, three strikes you’re out. Indeed I was, I was out for six months with five months of therapy. I was in a failure hole, and was looking to stay in that hole, but I soon realized that I can either sit and pout or come back better than I was the first time. My decision was to come back better, that was one step forward. For five months I went through the most grueling therapy I could imagine, but I never game up and I stuck to the plan that my therapist gave me, step two forward.

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It was a scorching 100 degree summer day. It was the start of the 11 year state championship baseball game against Albert Lea, I still remember that game like it was yesterday. It was miserable out we played three games that day before reaching the state championship. When the game started I kind of forgot about how hot it was out. We started fast scoring 2 runs in the top of the 1st inning Dylan and Reno each crossed the plate that inning.

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The first guy came up to the plate. I could not be happier. The first pitch was a strike. Then the 2nd pitch was a strike and the batter swung and missed. The last pitch came and struck the first batter out.

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The first game arrived, and expectedly, no playing time. Second game, same result. It did not take long for me to figure out that splinters, not the opposing team, would be my toughest challenge during the season. As the bond between the bench and I grew stronger each game, I began to question my role and importance

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Last fall my aunt had eight baseball tickets and she said to my mom “ I have eight baseball tickets and I wanted to know if Kailei and Ronnie want to go.” Mom said “ I’ll ask.” My dad came and asked me“ Do you want to go to a basketball game?” I said “Yes.” When we went to go get the tickets they where actually baseball tickets, but I didn’t care.

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When the ball was thrown I swung and then the worst thing happened: “Strike 1.” No!!! I have never missed before! The second ball was thrown and then before I swing, I hear,

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And I was up to bat. Two outs, one person on base, and the last inning. I stepped into the batter's box, she winned up for her pitch and throw ball. I step out of the batter's box and look over to my 3rd base line coach. As I did so, out the corner of my eye I saw a familiar face in the crowd.

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My team and I watching from the crowd, as Clarkstown and New City battle it out to advance to the next round. The sun beaming down on us like we were asphalt on a summer day, and getting in our eyes causing us to put on eye black. I can’t help myself and smell hot pretzels being made so my dad and I buy one and share it before the game ends. The game finishes, 4-3 in favor of Clarkstown, my coach tells us to go to the out field to stretch and throw if you were a parent in the stands all you would see would be 10 bright white baseballs flying back and forth.

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I had come up against something that I wasn’t good at, and it angered me. Everyday after practice for the next week or two was no different. I couldn’t figure out why I wasn’t getting better and what the point of all this suffering was. One night after an especially hard workout I had a talk with my dad, who was an exceptional baseball player in his day. I asked him what I need to do to get better.

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Overall from this experience I did learn something and take something from this experience. It showed me how much love I have for the game of baseball and how much I cherish it. The pain of sitting out all those games made me realize that. I don 't need to be doing all these extra little things like basketball camps or whatever. Possibly risking injury and having to recover and miss time from the sport I 've played my

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Then I ran out to the field and began pitching. It was the change of an inning. I went into the dugout, got my drink of my water and rested my arm for the next inning of pitching. First batter was up for our team, he got a hit. The second batter, strikes out.

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My Experiences in Softball Crack! That was the sound echoing off my bat. Down the baseline I went running, turning first base looking to see where the ball was. Sliding into second base, I was safe. I stood up and heard the roar of the crowd.

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