Basketball-Personal Narrative

After the victory I was still angry with myself. That one at-bat made me realize that I can do better and be a better baseball player. Every day after that game I made my dad do hitting drills with me. I hit the cages every other day until my next season came around which was high school baseball. When it came time for my high school season I led the team in hits and runs batted in. We won the GNC tournament and made it to the state championship; sadly we

As it turns out I did just as good as the last game throwing another two hitter. Next was the district championship against our rival Canfield. Unfortunately due to arm soreness I wasn’t able to pitch this game, but it didn’t matter our team had numerous pitchers. Similar to the previous two playoff games we blew them out. The game only lasted five innings and we won twelve to two. The following week game our first game in the regional tournament and we were playing Tallmadge. Unlike the district tournament we had no idea what the teams were like here, but it didn’t matter we were able to win both regional games six to four and then nine to six. At this time or teams dream came true, we had made it to the state tournament where we would play Columbus Bishop Watterson. This was one of the most nerve racking things that I had ever gone through. Once again I was named the starting pitcher. For the first time all season we came into a game as the underdog. All week long we had to hear about how good the team we were playing was and how they were going to kill us. Although everyone on the team would say otherwise I believe that we let this talk get to

All those hours of labor in the cage paid off. I started to hit again. Since then, I have collected a .435 average. Which brings me to this moment. The moment that our whole team will hate me if I fail. But I will not fail. All of my hard work will not go to waste.

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.

This inning was the spark of our lead, for we scored a couple more runs, but the game was not even close to over. For they could easily make a comeback.. Their team was breaking down both physically and mentally. However one baseball game would not exhaust me, for I practiced hours of pitching, batting, and baserunning. With the game , and it’s natural whizzing by, I was actually startled while taking the mound in the bottom of the sixth inning, but then again, my hard work paid off, feeling as fresh and as controlled as the beginning. I was facing the top of the lineup, which means the best players on the other team. The first batter I struck out with a breeze. The second, not so much. I had to bust out my wicked curveball on a full count to make him take a seat on the bench. Next up was their best player. I reared back and fired the ball as hard as I could. “Strike one!” called the ump, the sound muffled by the sound of the glove. The next pitch, a curve was thrown, him chasing the ball which leads to strike two. The next pitch, I knew I had to give everything I had, and upon firing the ball at a high rate of fire, the glorious glove came in contact with the ball, ending the game then and there. After the ceremony we partied, using water instead of champagne. The whole team went to a burger restaurant, and laughed and ate

I never thought I would have felt so much regret over a high school football game. This game, which happened to be my last high school game, has given me an entire new perspective on the game itself. This one particular football game got in my head emotionally and mentally and it definitely impacted me physically. Knowing that I got hurt and that we lost the game still haunts me to this day. Just thinking about how if I didn’t get hurt we could have won the game just makes me wish none of that would have happened.

Before me was Flynn and Jimmy. With little hope that everyone had left I hung my head down in shame that we couldn't win. Then all of sudden Flynn got a single and Jimmy crushed the ball. This brought all of the glooming people right back up. Everyone that was watching us screamed with all their lungs. The baseball park was filled with excitement. And now I'm up, the mighty Casey.

I refused to cheer too much because I know it would drive my focus away and it was best to stay humble. I reminded the offensive team this because it would be our hubris if we let our victories envelope our heads. By the end of the final quarter, we had won our game by only a 2-point conversion. The cannonade from my chest was still lunging towards the outside world. Throughout the game I feared failure, yet I overcame it. Realizing that my role was more influential than I known previously, I adapted to the pressure. I reflected on my own performance and knew I could do better. There was so much I could improve on and I was determined to be the

It is the first game of the season and we are playing our cross town rivals the Hartsville Red Foxes. The Red Foxes has beaten us the last three years. This year we are ready to win. Like a kid waiting form Santa Clause we have been anticipating this game. The teams’ emotions are high, like a balloon filled with helium. We have a built-up energy like pressure contained in a steam generator piping. Our baseball team steps on the field with our game faces on. We are steering at the opposing team with the look of a tiger ready to pounce on its prey. The first inning goes by and neither team has scored. Then the second inning plays out the same as the first, three batters up and three batter down. Both team's pitchers are pitching like there is no tomorrow. The ball is coming through the strike zone like a ball of hell fire. The third inning, the fourth inning, the fifth inning, the six innings and still no score for either team. We play through the seventh and eighth inning and the most either team has done was get players to first and second base before the inning is completed. It is the bottom of the ninth inning and I am up to bat. My first few times at bat, I walked, got a single, and later a double. I am determined to get a hit that will put me somewhere on the base in scoring range. I feel if I can just get to third base, we have a chance. The pitcher wines up and it’s a fastball that zips

As all my teammates ran up to congratulate me on my 55 yard touchdown I realized that we were still in this game. As I stood in the end zone, I finally started to realized what I had just done. I had finally proven myself to everyone including my teammates and my coach. Perhaps most importantly of all, however, I had proven to myself that I had what it took to play on the varsity level. It was something I had yet to prove before that game and is something that I will never

My team that summer, the Bengals, wasn't anything special, either. We had one or two pretty talented guys, but most, like me, were just barely what you could call decent. But somehow we'd almost scraped through the first round of playoffs, with only one game standing between us and semifinals. Predictably, the game had come down to the last inning, the Bengals had two outs and players on second and third base, and it was my turn at bat. It was like one of those moments you see in movies. The scrawny kid who no one really believed in hits a miraculous home run, winning the big game for his underdog team and becoming a local legend. Except my life wasn't The Sandlot, and any hopes my teammates or coach might've had for a last-minute rally to victory were crushed with my third swing-and-miss when the umpire sent me back to the dugout with a "strike three - you're out!"

I was ecstatic as I screamed and ran toward my team who was gathered outside of the dugout, awaiting my arrival. I hit the mass of bodies and was immediately swallowed by the mosh pit. I didn't want the moment to ever end, I wanted to be right there, right then for the rest of my life. But of course time seemed to speed up for the exact amount of time that I was celebrating with my teammates and I found myself sitting alone in my car driving home from the game seconds

We are going to do whatever it takes to win. My knee was aching something serious, but I wasn't going to tell the trainer because she'd keep me out of the game. We took our positions for the jump ball and I was our jumper of course. I jumped off my good leg, but I still landed with a sting in my right. Off we went like a herd of bulls running down the court. This game wasn't going to be easy by any means. Both my team and the opposing team was knocking down shots left and right. I wasn't concerned with my knee anymore because my adrenaline was pumping. We had got most of our points from fast breaks and turnovers. I was starting to become winded, my ribs felt like they were going to close in and my mouth was so dry that my tongue stuck to the roof of it. I signaled for my sub and waited for someone to come relieve me. I continued to cheer on my teammates from the bench and watched them fight

I went to the safe under my bed and pulled out the card. I started to pack a bag with everything I needed. When I was done, I put another card, 2017 Jake Arrieta, in my wallet in my pocket so I could get back. I set all of the stuff on my bed and walked into my parents’ room to say goodnight. I said, “Love you mom. Love you dad. I am going to bed,” and they said goodnight. I walked into my room, shut the lights off and went to bed holding the card.

As I stepped out and looked down the third base line, my heart was beating faster and faster, and I could hardly think straight. I stepped back into the box, and took my stance, I was a stiff as a board, and watched another pitch go bye.