Personal Narrative: How Baseball Has Changed My Life

My coach was always changing my position and I could play anywhere on the field. Eventually, I end up being the pitcher for my first time. When I started going, pitch after pitch, everyone out there at the baseball field, and in the stands, realized how good I was, and I actually threw a no hitter for 3 innings straight. Nobody, not even me, thought I could do that good. From that moment on, I began pitching all throughout my baseball career, and I still pitch for whatever baseball team I’m on to this

It was not until the age of 10 where my career really started to kick in and I did not take baseball for granted. It was a sport that I always liked to play. I always played every summer in a youth baseball league. It was a recreational league, but it is where I made some of my best friends. This league made it feel like we had no responsibilities and the social environment was one that I will never forget because being able to talk to others that understand what you mean is nice to have. When first starting that league my dad started coaching me up until I was eleven. Then he started taking the game to heart. We were still too young to fully understand that and he made a few kids cry and so the league banned him from coaching. So, my next year my grandpa took my dad’s spot and coached the team. There was always one rivalry we had. It was a team with almost all the older and best players in the league. Every year they went undefeated, except one. It was the finals game and it was a double

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.

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.

I started playing baseball for as long as I could. The year was 2006 when I first started playing baseball in Field of Dreams. When I played tee ball and machine pitch I was playing wherever they put me, but later on I started playing catcher and outfield and I stuck with that position for the rest of my baseball season. I played at Field of Dreams for as long

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.

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.

We were in the streets of the neighborhood, Ann Elizabeth to be exact. We had just began to play a game of baseball with my brothers new metal bat. Mom had already left for work and my dad was getting ready to leave as well. He was running sort of late. My brother and I were about to start the game, we check around us to make sure no one was near us to play a safe game. We saw our little sister and brother at the front doors neighbor's house playing with their daughter last time we checked. As my brother threw the baseball, I was getting ready to swing then bam! Before I knew it the bat had already crashed into my little brother's head. Let me remind you that this was a metal bat. A metal bat had ran cross my little brother's head. I was so terrified. My little brother was only 4 at that time. I did not know what to do. I held him in my arms. He was still conscious. I was holding my hand over his open wound. He bled a lot. My other brother had ran to let my dad know. My dad came rushing outside,

As my Varsity baseball team suits up for practice we whip out our “Easton Mako Bats” and our “Evo-Shield arm sleeves.” Everyone prepares for the season as we break in our new 200-dollar gloves. As I Un-zip my “Demarani Bat Bag” I search for the stick of eye black that seems to add spice to my game as I smother it under my eye, to “reflect the sun” of course. Our accessories become a part of our game, and we begin to value them more than the game itself.

lukas k//After school I hung around with my friends until baseball practice at 4:30. until baseball practice. At baseball practice we practice and fielding and hitting.after baseball practice me and my friend Max walked back to his house, after baseball practice me and my friend Max Walked back to his house, because it's only five blocks away.we hung out and rode bike for a couple hours until my dad pick me up. When my dad picked me up, he informed me that I could babysit. my dad picked me up, he informed me that I could babysit. After thinking about it, I said “yes”. He brought me to McDonald's, then to Shanes. The person I babysit for. After babysitting until 330. I went home, took a shower and went to bed. The next morning I got up at

A place can be any position or point with space around. A corner, a site on the internet, McDonalds, or even if you’re lost in the woods you're still in a place because of the space that’s around. A place such as The Mexican Restaurant, where my parents go on special occasions or when I talked to a friend at The Baseball field about certain point of every aspect of the game we play, or even when My family was so traumatized when our dad went out onto the ocean when the waves we crashing in. He tells us he’ll be fine so he heads out on the sand and starts walking the opposite direction of us, the waves came in and crashed into the feet of the cliff. We thought he was gone but he came back and said the waves almost got him but he found a crack

Aside from all of this, there were still many benefits to playing baseball for my high school. I made great friends, continued to progress in a sport that I loved, and discovered something that I wanted to contribute to that was bigger than myself: my teammates and my school. That summer, I decided to step up and turn around the baseball program of my high school. I started inviting my buddies on the team to practice with me on the weekends. We would go to batting cages in Queens, and on the subway ride over I tried to talk to them about how we should focus on being a better team and taking practices more seriously.

Baseball is the most popular spring sport in the United States. Something I once participated in and now watch. Just weeks before the busy season, Dad and I were working on the beautiful field. We had been impatient, working on the field for weeks now. We worked through the slush, the mud, and now the sandy dirt. Practices started and though I do not play I am at every practice. The ding of the ball colliding with the bat, the smack of the ball hitting the glove, and the players yelling, “nice job!”

“Jack wake up tryouts for the gators are in 3 hours and you need to get ready.”My mom yells as I jump out of bed and get dressed.

Baseball is a passion that began for me when I was 5 years old being amazed by dirt clouds when sliding into home plate. My collegiate experience at Berkeley, established through athletic scholarships, was informed by baseball and the commitment required for participation in such a program. The sport has taken me all over the world. I have been to Japan, as part of the World Baseball Games to Texas, as a professional player and everywhere in between including Wilmer, Minnesota where I lived next to a turkey slaughterhouse that employed primarily East African refugees. Passion for the game has influenced my personal code toward discipline, perseverance, and optimism in that I always look forward to the next opportunity no matter what has happened