Personal Narrative : Just A Game

Imagine standing on a softball field expected to perform at the age of 5. Even though the butterflies in my stomach were starting a war, nothing was going to stop me from stepping on that field to play my first tee ball game as a Little Tiger. Fans cheered, but what I noticed most was a little boy in the outfield picking his nose. Standing in the box, I was terrified; the field looked huge. I had never seen anything like this before, but I knew that the little boy was the person I needed to hit the ball to, so I hit the ball as hard as I could. The ball went soaring through the air like a bird on fire. Dropping from the air, it rolled to the fence. At that time, I knew I had fallen in love with the game of softball. I was smiling from ear to ear, I couldn’t believe I had hit the ball that far! Both sides screamed, yelled, and shouted with excitement. Was all this commotion for me? I rounded first, but I couldn’t go to second because my teammate, Kylie Leach, didn’t run. I didn’t know what she was doing. Sadly, the batter after me hit a ground ball to the pitcher, and the other team threw him out at first.

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,

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

“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

A few moments had passed when I heard, “batter up!” I stopped day dreaming and saw the umpire motioning for me. I took a deep breath and walked up to the batter’s box. I placed my hand in the air towards the umpire,

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

I’ve played baseball for as long as I can remember I was an average baseball player not one that would get a hit every time I stepped up to the plate. I remember stepping up to the plate sweat dripping off my helmet and the palms of my hands were sweating. As I got ready for the pitch I thought to myself why am I overthinking this. I swung and missed at the first pitch. I could feel my heart pounding and my stomach was starting to hurt. I swung and missed again I heard strike two. For a second I thought I got this. The next pitch I hit far but it was just foul. I could hear my teammates screaming go Alex. Then I swung and missed strike three and I walked with my head down back to the dugout. For the rest of the day I didn’t want to talk to

The first pitch came in. ¨Ball outside,’’ the umpire said as I stepped out of the box to take a breather. The second pitch came in as a Strike as I tried to get a hack at it but it broke across the plate. I stepped out of the box to regain my composure. Bases loaded 1 out. The third pitch came in and was a fastball that was traveling across the plate at 72 miles per hour, but I got my bat on it at the right time and the ball was in the outfield in a matter of seconds. The ball rolled passed the outfielder as I ran the bases as fast as I could. The outfielder struggled to get the ball in and threw to the cutoff man. By the time he got it in I was already at third for a straight up triple to score three runs to tie it up . “ Timeout,” I called as I took off my helmet and got ready to pitch.Jose took my place to pinch run for me as I needed to start warming up to pitch.

In 2025, I will be twenty-nine years old and hopefully married. I will be married to my significant other of ten years Earnest Palmer III, who is a dentist. I would have been recently graduating with a bachelor’s in Culinary Arts and trying to plan to open my own restaurant, BubbaD’s Eateries. Knowing my big headed husband of mine, I probably had a baby then and trying to have another baby. Hopefully, by then Earnest will get rid of the idea naming our son, King. We will be living in the suburbs near New York City but working in the city. Being a woman with great memory, I probably wrote a memoir about my crazy life and trying to sell it to a publisher. If none of the publishers wants to publish my memoir, I will probably sell it the Lifetime

My teammate runs over from first base to second, as I hear my name called out. I get out of the dugout, as I walk out my coach urgently talks to me. He yells at me: “Just focus. Focus only on the ball.” My heart beating, crowd watching, and my bat up high, I see the pitcher starting to take off. “My only option”, I say to myself. I see the ball coming right toward the middle. I take a swing, the ball tips my bat, as I stood there like it was about to end. I take one of my biggest decisions in my life, as the pitcher makes a fastball up high. All of the sudden, the fear goes away. I have confidence. All I hear is the sound that the bat makes when it hits the ball. The moment I open my eyes, I see the ball going high up into right field. The ball hits the ground, as my vision gets blurred by my tears.

I would of had to do a back hand in order to catch the ball with would involve my left foot piveting over my right with my elbow facing the ball. I didn’t have time for this swift motion so I stabbed at the ball and I saw the ball go pass my glove and heard it hit the fence. I dashed for it, I grabbed the ball with my bare hand and looked for the runner, she was inching her way to third I through the ball to third, the girl slid and was safe. Next play, the ball was hit straight into the air on my side I track the ball, I got right under the ball and then it tipped off my glove and hit the ground. I grabbed the ball with my bare hand, and ran to first and then realized the girl at third was running home, I threw a line pass to our catcher who missed the ball. I get into the huddle after the inning is over. Forgetting the score, I look over to see that it’s two to one , they are up. Kevin looks at me and says,“Two plays, Katie, get it together or I'm pulling you out and putting Bailey in.” Out of fear I responded,”The wind caught my pop fly and it tipped it.” He walked away, I don’t even think he cared for my

In the first inning, my skills as a right fielder were already being tested with a tricky fly-ball. Without any assistance from the irritating sun, the ball landed safely within my mitt. My biggest fear awaited me inside the batter’s box. Tar hardened on my batting gloves, and the sticky brown substance oozed from my vicious grip on the bat. The pitcher upon the mound, 60 feet away from me, carried what seemed to be a rocket launcher for an arm. Fear took control of my body. Both times I was summoned into the batter’s box, which I saw as the box of death, I struck out. Not to mention the game was televised, and I felt embarrassed. The timing was wrong for my group of guys; our best was not good enough that day. We wanted to win that game more than anything, perhaps we desired the glory too

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,

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.

The crowd was roaring like wild animals. Our teams had switched sides to start the second match and everything came into focus then. I could hear individual people cheering in the crowd, the student section was going nuts. The smell of the butter coming from the popcorn at the concession stands suddenly stood out to me. Most importantly, I could feel the yearning and the passion coming from my teammates. We wanted this win–bad. I was one of the leading hitters on the team and it was my job to produce the big hits for the team and motivate them to take everything the other team would hit at us. We started the second game and things were still going well for us! It wasn’t a fluke! We were playing well because we were working hard. If we didn’t hit hard they were going to pound it down, we couldn’t let up. So when our setter set me up and I saw out of the corner of my eye a triple block I knew I had to get it through their hands, but the ball was behind my head. In that split second I made a decision that changed my life forever. I swung away and I felt my shoulder pop and then the worst pain of my life went through my entire arm. I grabbed it right away knowing something was wrong. I’ve never felt pain like this in a game before. In that moment I knew that was the one. Every player knows what it’s like to get hurt. You get sprained ankles and sprained knees all the time, but this was the injury I knew had been coming to me. I looked up at my parents in the crowd and they knew too. Something was wrong.