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Personal Narrative: Major League Baseball

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I turned on my TV to find a classic Angels baseball game on. The first event that was shown was Pete Rose up to bat. I closed my eyes and then opened them to the ball gliding out of the pitcher's hand like a stealth bomber. Pete crushed the ball and the crowd screamed. I whispered to myself, "One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, and nine." The ball was smashed to the ocean right behind the baseball diamond. Challenge excepted. Two weeks after I witnessed a man murder a ball I was invited to the junior home-run derby for an amazing thirty-five home-runs in a seventeen game season. If there is one thing I hate it has to be losing. With that thought pumping threw my brain, it drove me to train harder than I have ever before. Every day and night I did, 1000 push-ups for more power. After my morning push-ups, I would go outside to a fence post with a tire tied around it and practice my bat speed and batting footwork. Sometimes when my dad comes home on time I can go to the batting cages ,and work on my soon to be perfect swing. …show more content…

Then my dad came home in time that day, so we went to the batting cages. I step in the cage that throws bullets instead of baseballs. I line my feet up with the artificial plate. I look up to see a baseball hurdling towards me like a meteor. Even though the baseball moved ninety miles per-hour it was moving in slow motion. I turn my body to shield form the ball, but not in time. The space rock strikes my hand and shattering it like a 50 caliber sniper to the

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The umpire calls, “Strike one!” I thought it wasn’t a strike, but I went with it because I didn’t want to get into a fight. I step out of the box, fix my batting gloves and take another swing the get back in. The next pitch comes and you could hear a “DING”. I swung and hit it down the right field line.

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And I practiced for 4 years and I could hit it as far as I can. I wanted to be the world champion until my father than told me that this sport was not even close to what it was meant for. What?! I trained 4 years for this! Then I was entered into real baseball and shhhh...

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The count was 2-1, I was up to bat. The score was 5 to 4, in the bottom of the 9th inning. The pitcher lifts up one leg and twirls his body, releasing the baseball. I ponder my next move, as I see the ball accelerated towards me. I get in position, swing, and let it rip.

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I take one foot out of the box and let out a breathe I didn’t know I was holding in. I once again looked to my coach Mike for direction and go to take a practice swing. Little did I know the catcher was getting up to pressure Maddy back to first base from her lead. As I was taking my swing I heard a thud, my bat had hit something solid.

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Then it was the second inning. I was in the outfield at leftfield, but no balls came to me. Then it was out turn to bat. I slowly put on my batting gloves and put my helmet over my face. I didn’t really feel like I wanted to do this, but when Hailey was warming Jade and I, it felt different and it was fun.

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The score was set 3-5 top third of the 4th inning, our 3 hole up to bat and the count being 3-1 next pitch determined if he was on base or in a full count jam. The next pitch was a ball, meaning he was walked and then took his base and this loaded the bases for me to step to the plate and bat, this was the nerve racking part of sports when your team needs you and you can or cannot deliver on the gift. I had one pitch and the ball was flying further and further until it hit the ground right at the foot of the fence and I was running and the ball was being relayed back into first and then to third where I was running to. The ball meets my leg a second after my foot hit the bag

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