Personal Narrative: A Place In The Baseball Field

About three weeks ago, the Packer Varsity baseball team beat Berkeley Carroll school for the first time in twelve years and in glorious fashion. Tears streamed down my face as our winning run crossed the plate in extra innings, dust flying up as my teammates and I mobbed each other at the plate. Yet a few short days later, our team was blindsided by the news that St. Ann’s had pulled off back to back upsets to squeak their way into the playoffs ahead of us - just as our season seemed to be looking up, it was over.

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.

Today is the last day before I report for Spring Training. Of the 5,000,000 children playing baseball in the U.S., only 1,500 will be drafted into the MLB. I have worked hard enough to be one of the lucky few that make it. Before I report for Spring Training, I want to have a day to remember. I would go to my most favorite places, go see my most favorite people, and go do some of my favorite things.

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.

But I went out and I tried out for the team. Try outs for high school baseball was so different from middle school baseball. Before tryouts started we had days were we would work out before baseball tryouts started. Some days we were in the weight room and other days we were on the field. We tryout days were here barley any body got cut from the team and if you didn’t make it he would posted anything up and make people feel embraced he would just come up to you and tell you that you did not make the team. It was the first time in a long time that I had played baseball and it was the first time that I made the baseball team for a school. I played for the JV team and my position were catcher and outfield I was number 15 and I liked playing for the team it was so

I was dropped off the travel baseball team? “How could this be” I asked my dad, he replied “I don’t know Josh you didn’t put that much effort into your last game and you don’t try in practice”. The travel baseball team is the most prestigious youth baseball team when I found out I had been dropped I was heartbroken I wanted to crawl into a hole and cry. My dad tried to talk me into trying to try out for different team I just turned around and didn’t say a word. I ran outside, grabbed my baseball glove and threw it in the pool I never wanted to see a baseball glove or bat again.

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.

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.

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.

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 less than a second maybe half a second but it changed everything. I heard the ball hit against my bad with tons of power. Suddenly all I heard was the crowd cheering behind me and my team running up to me. I was dumbfounded did I really just hit a grand slam to win the World Series in the fourteenth inning? Tears rolled down my face as we all knew we just won the World Series for our team that hadn't won since 1908.

I felt completely alone and high school baseball was my opportunity to establish myself among my new peers confident from my previous experiences. I arrived at my new high school's baseball tryouts looking forward to success unbeknownst to me. I was hopeful too I'm prepared compared to the skills of the 60 dedicated Texas athletes enjoy his

Everybody has memories they will never forget. The first of mine is playing baseball when I was six years old. My dad had always played sports and I wanted to follow in his footsteps. Baseball was my dream at a young age and it all started with the Tigers. I’ll always remember stepping onto the field for the first time and feeling the excitement rush through me. I was lucky enough to get the opportunity to be the team’s starting catcher. I liked the feeling of being in command behind the plate and felt like I had some sort of control over the game. I don’t remember a whole lot about the first game, but I do remember my first hit. I can tell you that I’ve never felt so excited in my life as I connected with the ball and began running to first base. I knew that made my dad extremely happy.

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.