Importance of Adrenaline Glands

“ ‘Cheer up my friend, the game’s not over. You can still win. I hope you do. ’Those were the last words Sandy had said to her” (Raskin pg.185). The Westing Game by Ellen Raskin is about a game that if you win, you get 200 million dollars. This book is filled with mystery and adventure. The Westing Game movie is more exciting than the book and is also filled with mystery. The Westing Game book and movie contain many similarities and differences that are worth 200 million dollars.

Near the end of the 19th century, the United States went through a transformative period marked by the pursuit of “Manifest Destiny,” characterized by the United States ambition to become a global power. Not only with means of territorial expansion, but also to put themselves as the “saviors” of oppressed groups that searched for “enlightenment.” However, the truth was no more distant than what the United States promised. During this time, different voices were raised to challenge the idealized narrative of American pursuit of expansionism, unrevealing the dark reality of American expansionism. In document 1 “Tragedy of wounded knee” (1890), Red Cloud’s speech provides a critique of the treatment received by the US government toward the Native

“Take your base,” yelled the umpire as Kevin was hit with a pitch on his back. Kevin trotted at a snail's pace down to first base, his face was filled with agony as he grabbed his rib cage. As the game proceeded the pain from the pitch increased but Kevin thought it would eventually go away so he played through it. The game went on and it was close all the way till the end but the Stars pulled out the victory. They are now the 2016 South Carolina 2A High School baseball Champions. The team went crazy, the fans rushed onto the field to celebrate the victory with them. The team and the fans were bumping and brushing up against one another while they were screaming and hollering. Kevin was in the middle of the crowd with all his friends and

The glare is no longer in my eyes and I can finally see and I look at the pitcher, I get in my stance, take a deep breath and then I don't hear anything. I hear no cheering, no chants, no yelling. All I can hear is the slap of the glove, all I can see is the dirty green softball coming fast down the line. My eyes narrow in, I shift my weight and swing. "CRACK!" was the noise from the ball making perfect contact with the ball I start running around the bases and so do my teammates. I don't even pay attention to where the ball is I just keep running. Rounding second base I look up at my coach and he is jumping up and down yelling for me to slide into home so down I go knocking the catcher down with me. I get up to my teammates running out and tackling me back down to the ground with

While standing on deck, waiting anxiously to get up to bat, my team-mates and I cheered loud hoping that we would win. As I walked up to the plate my coach, Jacob Kidd, looked at me and said, “Get the job done.” That was not supposed to make me nervous or anything was it? I knew that I had to get a base hit, so I just got up there and done my best. After I hit, Danielle, Lauren, and Jolie was next; and I knew that they would do what needed to be done. Jolie hit a long fly ball to the right center field fence; however, she did not get on base because they sprinted to catch it. Before we knew it, three outs had already passed; we hustled towards the dugouts to grab our gloves and go back out on defense. I talked to Katie Grace Payne, our pitcher;

I felt my cleats dig into the rough ground as I sprinted to first base. The ball landed between their left and center fielder. To an onlooker, you would miss the second of hesitation that laced their faces. Both unsure who was to go after it, before they both raced to the ball. By this time I had already made it to second base. Starting for third, their center fielder threw the ball towards second, coming a few feet short of the base. My foot smacked against third, unsure whether to go any further. The bright yellow ball flew through the air, heading for third as I took off towards home. Legs pumping, heart almost beating out of chest, sweat dripping down my face. I slid towards fourth, regretting my decision almost immediately. My foot hit

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.

As I walked up to the place I stopped and looked at my coach giving me sign that was unusually familiar. Then it hit me, he was telling me to hit it to right field because their right fielder was worse than trying to get a cat to take a bath. When I finally got to the plate I took a deep breath and got into my stance. The pitcher and I gave each other a stare. The pitcher winded up his pitch and zoomed right down the plate but barely hit the plate. “BALL 1!!!” screamed the umpire. Then he threw another zooming pitch that was way outside. ‘BALL 2!!!” screamed the umpire, again. “There’s no way he will throw a strike at this point” I question myself. The exhausted pitcher limped up the dusty brown mound. The pitcher seemed pretty confident about this next pitch. As he released the ball from his hand I knew right away he wouldn’t get that ball over the plate. It when way behind me. “BALL 3” he said calmly for once. I stepped out of the box to talk to

The next day rolled around. Game day. I was too excited to eat anything at all. I got to the bus, and I sat by my pitcher. It felt like the bus ride took years. Once we got there, I warmed up my pitcher, my nerves eating me alive. My coach tells us that it’s time to start the game. I was so nervous, I was having second thoughts about catching the game. But, I did it anyways. I put my gear on, and went out to the field, greeting the umpire on the way out. I get in my catcher’s position, ready for the pitches

There I was. Stepping up to the batter's box. As I looked at the scoreboard I saw: bottom of the ninth inning, two outs, and the score was 2-1. We were losing. It's moments like this that make me love the game. The baseball field was an escape, a happy place. I was surrounded with the smell of popcorn and bbq from the concession stand. I could hear the crowd roaring with excitement and my adrenaline was at an all time high. I tasted my flavorless bubblegum as if I had been chewing it all day. The pitcher stepped on the mound, I then raised my bad and got a good grip as i felt the grip of my bat. I seen the baserunner on first get a lead out of the corner of my eye. The pitcher delivered; I seen the ball touch my bat

Bottom of the 9th. Two outs. Crack! A shallow fly ball in the air a few feet behind me, I quickly turned around to sprint and catch the ball. I’m looking up as I attempted to track the ball in the blinding Saturday morning sun and bang! As I became encompassed in darkness, my seemingly lifeless body hit the ground. I blacked out for fifteen seconds. I was then helped up by a fellow teammate. The first words to leave my lips were “Did he catch it?” I looked up, but rather than seeing cheerful teammates and fans, I saw faces of dismay. Rather than celebrating or saying “Good game” to the opposing team, I see my coaches sprinting out to check on me. I was stumbling off the field being held up by two teammates as if I were a drunk teenager on New Year’s Eve. They sat me down on the cold metal bench so I could regain my balance. As I began to leave, I was approached by the trainer.

We were up by one and we were excited. We were screaming and shouting. The next few innings were uneventful. When the seventh inning came around, that’s when things got interesting. The other team scored three runs. We were down by two, but luckily we were at the top of our lineup, so all of our best hitters were going up to bat. Justin and another kid named Jay was on second and third and I was up to bat. We had two outs, and if I could get a base hit, Jay and Justin could score. I had butterflies the whole time I was walking up to bat. When I was in the batter’s box the butterflies were gone, and all I was focused on was the pitcher and the baseball. The first two pitches I watched and they were both strikes. At this point the butterflies had found their way back into my stomach. I was thinking in my head; I wasn’t about to let my team down. The whole time the pitcher was getting ready to throw the final pitch, I had my eyes on the ball. When the ball escaped the fingertips on the pitcher, the butterflies turned into adrenaline and I swung the bat and nailed the ball. I felt like I just hit a home run, but in a few short moments that feeling was ceased when the right fielder held up his glove with excitement. I walked back to the dugout with my head down. I felt like crying because I let my team down. I went the rest of the day not saying another word.

A crack of the bat and the ball goes flying high into left field. I don’t get it. What is the point of baseball anyway all you do is hit a ball and run. It’s not like there is any point. We just go to a game waist valuable time in our life and pay them to do nothing. That’s when I learned I was wrong. It was a rainy day when I wake up to the voice of my dad yelling, “Get out of bed I have some important news to tell you.” I yell back in frustration “It is 7:00 AM.” He doesn’t care so he comes up stairs like always when I don’t want to get out of bed and turns on the scolding lights. So I have to get up if I want to turn them off. So I get out of bed anyway, and put on some clothing from my closet and go down stairs. My dad is reading the

Through my entire life I had been playing baseball. Baseball was the one thing that consumed my life. It was a job to me, not a passion. That was the first problem that resulted in a complete 360 in my life. When I started to play baseball, it was in a way satisfying and fun. It was something every little kid did over the weekend, as the family watched them sit on the ground pick flowers and play with the dust. Something so simple that made me feel so, existential. It gave me so much, it was great. As I began to realise the potential life this game could give me at around age 9, I began to become serious about baseball. I quickly began to feel like a superstar at the local Little League. “This is great!” I thought. Running circles around everyone, people would come to the field to see MaHall’s team play. As the years grew on, leading my teams to championship games years in a row, it would come crashing down. When I was 11, I was on the Dodgers, we were the best team in the league, and we knew it. Let’s go back in time for a bit. It’s the last inning and we are down by just one. Here I go up to bat with a man on first base. As I walk up to the plate I could hear the catcher say, “oh no.” He knew who I was, as everyone did. “I’ve hit many walk offs and clutch hits before, how was this different?” I remember thinking. Well past Jonnie, here’s how it’s different, it’s the championship game,

As a rule of thumb, is worth to establish that the Bible is the core of true wisdom. Another source is worldly wisdom found in our selfish ambition to succeed in life at all costs in order to achieve our final goals; in this case to conquer happiness. To illustrate worldly wisdom, history speaks of a man who was born on July 356 BC of a royal family. Who looked at closely his life and thought of himself; if only he was the leader of his army he would be happy in life, and he fulfilled his dream; but that was not enough. Then he thought of himself; my wisdom, knowledge and experiences are attributes of a prince, and he became a prince; but that was not enough. Later, he thought of himself; with only the opportunity to be king this will definitely determine the meaning in life and happiness, and he became the king; but that was not enough. Finally, he thought of himself; with my wisdom, power, intelligence, skills, cleverness, and money he could conquer the ends of the world, and he became a world ruler; but that was not enough, therefore after having conquered the whole world there was no more and his heart was saddened. This is how Alexander the Great became the most powerful king in the history. Surprisingly, at the age of 33 years old, Alexander requested three important wishes; weeks before dying despite all the money, wealth, power, intelligence, human knowledge, self-righteousness, and authority. Although, for the world the focus of his story is the center of wisdom