Personal Narrative Essay: Seventh Inning Stretch

Many people don't understand the point in playing baseball. Why would someone swing a stick, hit a ball, and try to get back to where they started before the ball returns? What pleasure is there in that? Why not participate in a sport like wrestling or track where there is an obvious level of individual improvement and therefore pleasure. Well, I play baseball because of the love I have for the sport, and because of the feeling that overwhelms me every time I walk onto a baseball field. When I walk onto a field I am given the desire to better myself not only as an athlete, but also as a person. The thoughts and feelings I get drive me to work hard towards my goals and to be a better person. The most relevant

Clouds mugged the sun of light as the day progressed. Dusk filled the air on the baseball diamond where I would leave my legacy. Forth, was the championship game to be played, and the pressure of the starting pitcher, was not fazing me. In the zone, we said the Little League pledge. Jolts of excitement filled my muscles as I recited the piece that I know all too well. Warming up, I was controlled, and was ready to bring it. The game began with a bang. Strikeout after strikeout I fired, giving my all every single pitch. ‘BOOM’ went the glove after every pitch, whizzed right by the petrified batter. However, this was not much different for our team. Just two hits filled the board, I and my teammate Ian Keth. Scoring off of this was efficient,

This particular Sunday, we had already played four other games. We were nearing the end of our fifth, the championship game, and I was almost up to bat. I slipped my gloves on, black with white lightning stripes, giving me a sense of power. The player up to bat sadly strikes out, giving us our second out as the game is tied. The ump looks at me motions for me to approach the plate. I stepped out of the practice circle and took a few practice swings. Lift, step, plant, twist, bring the bat around, follow through, slap. Lift, step, plant, twist, bring the bat around, follow through, slap. Over and over, the same swing I’ve spent countless hours perfecting back at our practice academy in Olathe.

After our coach gave us a pep talk about the game and trying to get us hype for the game on Saturday. Then we grabbed our bats and gloves and was getting ready to go on the field. We were about to come out of the tunnel but the coach said let's go get them.

“Next up the right fielder Auuuuusstin Meeeehhhhrrrr” belows out of the speakers at full blast as I approach the plate. Feeling loose I ease into the batter's box sinking my cleats deep into the soft dirt where I can get a solid stance. Stretching my bat across the plate showing the pitcher how much reach I have tempting him to throw one in the zone. Weight is on my back leg as I slowly bounce the bat in my hands anticipating the first pitch. The pitcher begins his windup and I stop moving the bat and focus on the ball.

When my coach put me in the game I looked at him and said are you sure you want me to do this coach he said yes get out here and play and have a good time while you’re out there. I ran out to left field and I had that feeling like please don’t hit the ball to me but that didn’t happen the next pitch the ball came straight out to left field and I made this play that I was really proud of myself for it was a huge part of my life to be able to go out there and making plays and not letting my team down and having are team play like a teams it was just a great time.

As I got settled in the dugout, I heard my coach yell, ¨Michael, youŕe batting second in the lineup, and

“Play Ball”, the ump said as I was on the mound. Sweat running across my face as I stepped back and threw the first pitch. I knew I had to start things right. 3 outs later it was time to hit. “Play Ball” the ump said to start the 4th inning. Our team was winning it was enough for a mercy rule.

The first pitch that the coach threw to me seared the hair right off my head since it was going so fast. “Strike one!” called the ump. Alright, I needed to believe in my abilities. The next pitched was hurled right in line with my face! When I opened my eyes, I saw that the baseball was a perfect pitch and the catcher hadn’t moved his glove. The coach was making a fool out of me with his famous curve ball. “Strike two!” the umpire proclaimed. The next pitch was the one that I would make my mark on. The pitcher wound up and thrust the ball toward the catcher’s glove. I loaded and fiercely swung as hard as I could. After what seemed like forever, I looked into the catcher’s glove, and there was the ball. I felt dreadful. “Strike three!” I heard in the background. As I walked back to the dugout, I wondered what did I do wrong, what could I have changed, and what does the coach think of

“I told you I could pitch!” I yelled after Trinity who was chasing the ball that I had just thrown past her. I didn’t want to tell the coach because what if that throw was just luck? Besides by the next game the coach would have already forgotten about my

About mid-way through the season, we played the hardest team in the league. I just knew that this was the game for my very first over-the-fence homerun. During my first at-bat, I was so cocky that I ended up striking out on three straight pitches. I was so devastated because the feeling I previously had, just vanished. I was moping around all game until my next at-bat which was three innings later. I got up to bat, and I wasn't expecting much out of this at-bat. The count got down two and zero, and the pitcher threw a beautiful pitch so I swung. To my amazement, I actually connected the bat to the ball. I just knew that the ball was gone so I started jogging. I watched the ball all the way to the outfield. It was going, going, and not gone. It ended up actually hitting the top of the fence, and the center fielder actually catching the ball. That is when I knew that I wasn't going to hit an over-the-fence

The game started and our team was batting, and I was third on the batting order. I was nervous because it was only my second season and the other team’s pitcher was pitching fast. Isaiah batted and hit, Miles struck out, and I struck out and was disappointed.

The air was cold and eerie as my teammates and I got ready to take the field for baseball practice. Our coach called for a night practice in the middle of September following our devastating loss in the championship game a few weeks ago. “Let’s go! Start running laps around the field!” my coach shouted as players were still getting dressed and warming up. Most of my teammates still shattered by the championship loss weren’t feeling enthusiastic about practicing. We finished running our laps and moved on to the next portion of our practice which was long tossing. I wasn’t aware that such a routine practice would be the one to change my life.

“As you probably already know, this is our last game of this season, so let's make the best of it.” he says. “Today we are going against the best team in the league. So, any mistake that they make I want you guys to take full advantage of it. Let’s try our best as a team to not make to many mistakes ourselves for them to take advantage of. Now let’s get out here and play ball.”

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.