Autobiography Of A Baseball Player

I have loved baseball for years, but by the time I was a freshman at Laurel High School, I had precious little experience. The chances of me playing baseball in most high schools were slim, but this was Laurel. America’s favorite pastime was treated there as a vestige of years long forgotten. The athletic director ignored us, the students didn’t support us, and the school funded us just enough to say that they had a baseball program. Tucked away in a forgotten corner of the campus in the gloomy shadows of the tower from which football games were announced, the baseball diamond was the school’s disgrace. The dugouts were dismal cinder block bunkers with peeling paint and a propensity to flood. Grass was scarce where it was supposed to be and

Ever since I could remember, I have always had a great interest and love for the game of baseball. As a kid, I would spend countless hours in the backyard with my grandfather, or even by myself, tossing, hitting and fielding a baseball. When I wasn't in the yard pretending to be Nomar Garciaparra I would watch the Boston Red Sox games on TV with my Grandfather.  Even in my early adolescence, as impatient as most are, I had the patience to sit there and watch the Sox.With my eyes glued to the screen with a look of anticipation fixed on my face ready to mimic my grandfather with the excitement of a home run hit or the frustration of Mo-Vaughn striking out. Call me crazy, but I was addicted, even as a young boy, to Boston Red Sox baseball.

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.

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.

Nothing beat the overwhelming emotion of stepping up on the pitcher’s mound and hearing the chant of my name, my heart clawing its way out of my chest. Before throwing the first warmup pitch, my mind raced through the entire season. How, as a team, we have made history winning all three major tournaments in the high school level. We had beaten many top competitors and lost plenty crushing defeats as well. My mind pondered, which situation will I be in today, glorious victory or destructive loss. This is the feeling I lived for during high school, it was my sole purpose. However, this was merely one minute of that fateful day in which I played prodigiously trying to win a baseball game.

It was the last games of the baseball season. We had are worse pitcher pitching for our team. And they had an ok pitcher pitching. We got to the semi finals and our coach was going nuts. I was in the locker room getting ready for the game and my teammates Austin and Tevan were right next to me also getting ready they were one of the best players on the team.

The second championship game began much like the first. By the seventh inning the score was seven to one in favor of Waterloo Valley. Being the home team, we had one more chance for survival in the bottom of the inning. The inning started with one hit after another, raising the team’s spirits with each one. The hits just kept coming until we finally found ourselves only down by only one run. The excitement in the dugout was soaring, and so, with a runner on third base and two outs, Coach Sullivan put in Jakob Crampton for what could be the final at bat of the season. After strike one the anxiety became overwhelming. With the second pitch on its way, Crampton swang the bat, and the dugout exploded into cheering as the ball found its way between the third baseman

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.

MY FIRST BASEBALL TROPHY When i was 6 yrs old, I lived in Burleson, Texas. The whole time I lived there I was playing paseball constantly. My very first season of baseball, I was 6 years old. It was a very hot season of baseball. On the very last game of the season it started to rain, and even though it was raining we still played the game.

One of the proudest moments in my life is when I hit a homerun that won the game for my baseball team. I just completed the sixth grade and was looking forward to baseball season with my friends that summer. I was so happy we were all on the same team, the Red Wings. I was playing second base, and for the first time, I felt confident about my position. I didn’t let a ball get past me. I was catching and throwing that ball like a pro. In addition, I was hitting balls like never before, and scoring runs for the team. For the first time since T ball I felt like a real star!

There are few words to describe how proud I am of my little Georgia! Oh, it seems like just yesterday she hit her first homerun. And now, she’s all grown up, playing for a professional baseball team! Everytime she picks up that bat, it’s like there’s some sort of energy that goes from the bat, to her fingers, and all over the inside of her body, you can definitley tell that baseball really is her passion. At the time, I thought it was absolutely horrible that girls were not allowed to play baseball! Who would think that because of a war, a young woman got the chance to persue her dreams? I guess that just goes to show, every cloud has a silver lining.

The smell of popcorn filled the spring air. I was running as fast as I could, there was no stopping me. The pitcher threw the baseball to second base as I started to race to home base. Voices of cheering and screaming of excitement filled my ears, motivating me to run faster. I stared at the catcher with confidence in my eyes, seeing his glove in the air, ready to catch the ball. He was too late, my foot touched the bag before it reached his glove. My best friend Olivia on the team ran over to me and gave me a hard high five. The rest of my team tackled me with joy. Olivia and I are the only girls on the team yet we are some of the best players they have. As we said good game to the other team, a feeling of being watched struck me. I turned my head to see a

If you happen to be at an IVC baseball game next semester, be sure to be on the lookout for our very own pitcher, Steven Panela. Or as his teammates call him, Panelita, for he used to be the smallest guy on the team. He played for the De Anza Bulldogs and helped take them to the CIF semifinals. Even though they lost in the semifinals, I have full confidence that we will be seeing great things from him and the IVC team this upcoming season. I say that because that same year that him and Calexico went to the semifinals, he was awarded Pitcher of the Year and First Team All-League for pitching.

A career in major league baseball helped set the stage for his womanizing. Being a professional athlete there is a certain level of fitness to maintain he prescribed to order. The energy he played with on the field help drives his motivation for business.

It was the bottom of the 7th and the count was 3-2. I stood impatiently at the plate with the bases loaded. As I was glaring at the pitcher, he hurled his 85 mph fastball on the outer half of the plate. The thundering sound of the bat making contact with the ball made everyone in the park stop to see where the ball was going. As it flew into right center field, the right outfielder lunged towards the ball. As I dropped the bat hurriedly and ran toward second base, I continuously stared at the ball as the right fielder smashed into the fence with the ball in his glove. Immediately, I saw the other team throw their hands up in celebration as the right fielder made the catch to win the game, making us lose a grueling game. Growing up surrounded