Personal Narrative: A Short Story

“STRIKEEEE!” shouted the umpire while the guys on the opposite team smiled and shouted in relieve “Nice pitch”. Shaking my head, I slowly stepped out of the batter’s box and look at my coach for signals. My brain and my body wasn’t on the same page. I stepped back into the batter box, took a deep breath and got into my ready position. I tried looking calm and collected on the outside while on the inside I was nervous and separated.

As I stood in right field, the sun in my face, ready for anything that came my way.The first pitch was a strike. The game had now begun. All of the fans were packed into Veterans Memorial Park and cheering ever so loud for their team. The first batter struck out, and although we just started I could not help but think we were one out closer to going to state. The next two batters were also thrown out. It was now time for us, the Senior Rams to bat. The nerves were still at an all time high for everyone as we changed sides. We went down one, two, three outs and took the field again. Both of the teams were full of very quality players so everyone knew it was going to be a fantastic game. The next three innings were one, two, three innings for both teams.

My breakfast started to creep back up my throat as game time got closer and closer. I walked across the patch of grass behind home plate and was towered over by the 30 foot backstop with a huge net suspended from it. My bulging bag of equipment was beginning to make my shoulder hang. I walked down the steps into the cement dugout and placed my bag under the bench that spanned the entire length of the dugout. I sat down, laced up my cleats, and put my warm-up jacket on in preparation for batting practice. I stepped onto the grass surrounding the dugout to get the feeling of how wet the grass was. I dug my cleats into the grass and began my usual routine of taking certain practice swings as I gazed upon the press box in the wake of the backstop. Preceding the burn in my forearms, caused from the practice swings, I marched behind the dugout to the rows of batting cages to wait my turn in line. Pacing back and forth I knew I had to keep my nervousness to a minimum. I popped in a wad of Big League Chew and continued to

I threw the first pitch and 5 minutes later “Strike 3,” the ump said! I was 0-2 with an RBI and I pitched 4 inning shutout. The next day we played at 10:00 and 2:00. I woke up and got ready. We were late to leave.

It was an ordinary sunday afternoon in late May, smoldering hot and filled with travel baseball. In a small town outside of Tulsa, Oklahoma, my 14 year old traveling team was playing in the tournament semifinals. Myself, in particular, had been struggling throughout the tournament, but I wouldn't let it affect my attitude going into this game. Due to my determination to win, I was able to lead my team to victory.

I walk to the base. Sand kicks up as I pound my feet in place. I stare at the pitcher, staring at me. Swing. I swing my bat hard. I miss it badly. “Strike One!” I hear as i try to focus. Only hit it if it’s perfect. I think to myself, taking a couple of practice swings. I step back up to the base and ready my feet again. A pound of sand puffs up. I look behind me at the crowd, there eyes staring at me. I look to my team, their eyes looking at me saying, We’re counting on you! I look back to the pitcher. I nod, the pitcher gets in position. You got this… BANG! I hit the ball so hard it goes flying across the field. “Run! Run!” I hear everyone in the crowd, and in the dugout, yell. I run as fast as I can. Dirt kicks up underneath my feet. First

It was a hot day in July when the Napoleon Ladycats softball team had tournaments. We played at the Bryan softball field. Our team was scheduled to play Fairview at 7:30 p.m. We had to be at the game at 6:00. I got to the game slightly early. When the Liberty Center/Wauseon game was done, we got to go behind the field to warm up.

That morning I woke up on the second week of summer, ready for my championship baseball game against Portsmouth. Our U11 all star team sat in second place in the tournament going into the championship against the number one seed Portsmouth Eagles. The whole day leading to the game, all I could think about was the game, not even the amazing apple pie my mom made because my sister begged for it.

“Batter up,” the umpire hollered. I took a deep breath and walked up to the batter’s box. I placed my hand in the air towards the umpire, indicating time, so that I could get myself into the correct position. I took one last look at home plate and took another deep breath. This was it; my time to shine.

I get my gear on and the first batter of the bottom of the 5th grounds out to our 3rd baseman. The next batter strikes out. The 3rd batter hits one into left center and ends up on second base.

The day of the big game was gonna be on a friday night, the game started at 7:30 but we had to get there early to warm up. When all of my teamates got there we were all talking about

I was getting very nervous, because all three of us were hitless today. Okay, we need base runners, and we need them now. Don’t try to do too much, just get a hit. I thought. The first pitch was a fastball right down the middle of the plate, a perfect pitch to hit. My eyes got big, and my mind said swing, but before I could react, the ball was past me.

I just want to start this off with saying I'm sorry for arguing and the attitude issues. Lastnight's not how I wanted to spend it. I didn't get a hug or a kiss, all I got was how did you do tonight as if money was the only thing you seemed to care about. Then you tell me to either get out of the car or go home and I said give me a minute because I was on my feet all night at work. And I didn't wanna,stand around the outside of the gas station. People always say never stop fighting for the person you want once you finally get them. And I feel like you don't want to fight for me because you have me now. You know you always tell me that you want the rayann that I was in st. Pete to come back it's hard for her to come back when the last couple of days/week we've done nothing but argue.

Guess what my sister did this weekend? Last weekend was her last meet before counties. She did very well. I had so much fun watching her. There were sad moments though when the relay was lost by a split of a second, b. But I still thought it was fun since it was her last meet before winter.

A typical day in a life of a missionary. I am awaken by the sound of