Baseball Personal Narrative

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

It's been five years and a half since I take the decision to leave the baseball team. Five years ago I was on a baseball team. I join the baseball team because I like baseball and my family like it too. I join a new team so I didn't know anybody on the team. The longest practices we have had on the team are from 5pm to 12am, and the shortest practices we have had are from 5pm to 9pm. The position that I use to play on was on the first base. But the problem was that I didn’t have enough time to sleep. I slept about 5 hours every night. Because I wasn’t sleeping enough I couldn’t do my homework from school or study. My grades start to go down and I was falling asleep in class.

Softball isn’t all smiles and winning. Sometimes things could almost get sweet. For instance, we were the first team to ever beat Gladstone. I remember it was the second game of the season and we were playing at the dome. I remember Zeke punching the air, “Hell yeah! That’s what I want to see!” and telling us we didn’t have to clean up the equipment because we had won. We went home on a high, so incredibly proud to be on that team.

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.

A mistake, there must have been a mistake it's not real it can't be happening. I raised my head to look at one of my best friends shock on his face second only to mine. Coach apologized to those who hadn’t made the team and offered, if anyone wanted to know why they had been cut they could come speak to him and the assistant coach privately. What did I have to lose? So I went. It would have taken a real man to be able to look a coach in the face immediately after his dreams had been crushed, I am not embarrassed to admit that there were tears in my eyes as i conversed with the two of them. The news of being cut stung, but the reasons that followed pierced my soul; being told that with my skill level i should consider playing a different sport. Life stood still, i told them i would come back the next year and improve and prove myself to them; they had no idea that i had no intention on keeping this promise. Baseball was over, as i tried to gather up the last reserves of my pride i looked across the gym to my friends and lifted my hand in farewell but couldn't stop the tears from streaming down my cheeks. As I walked through the front door of my home i collapsed right in the doorway and finally felt safe enough to truly let my emotions show; I cried for a long time and only paused for a moment when my mother arrived home and looked at me expressing her sorrow through the way she looked at me. If I

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 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.

I am a baseball player who loves to play baseball and very good at it,

Blood, sweat and tears. All for one sport you love. Going to the fields, putting my cleats on and batting.(Cumulative) From the time I stepped on the diamond, I knew softball was going to be something I was good at. Usually most people start off playing t-ball and work their way up to the big leagues. Not me. I started my third grade year. Of course I was hesitant (nervous), but I got over that fast enough. I played every position possible. I was a strong hitter (usually making it on base every time). But that’s 10 u. Over the years, I became exceptionally good at softball. I had many compliments on how good I was. Parents were telling my parents how good I was. But that was only the beginning.

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.

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!

Lights blaring into my eyes, the crack of the bat, the shouting of the overly-devoted parents, the salty aroma arising off of the freshly roasted peanuts, all came together to create the overwhelming presence of a little league baseball game. This was a place where I spent most of my time on week day afternoons, in the spring, watching my brother succeed at America’s pastime. He was really quite good at this sport called baseball; he had just been granted the position of starting pitcher for the team. Sometimes things that have occurred in my life, and stuff I have received, that I may not have necessarily deserve, can be taken for granted. However, after what was about to take place my eyes are given a new perspective.

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.

I am currently a senior at Weslaco East High School I was a third grader when baseball had caught my interest, baseball will always have a gigantic impact on my life, because I have met most of my friends through the game ,and I consider them family and my friends fathers, including mine all use to play when they were our age so it basically brought us closer, because we all had something in common. I was originally born in Orlando, Florida, but both my parents decided to come to a very small city called Weslaco, which is in the Rio Grande Valley which can be located in Texas. Weslaco isn’t the biggest City in the world, but this city has made me who I am today and because of this city I have met so many of my friends and family. I have made powerful memories here with the

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.