What Would I Be Doing Now If I Tried Out?

A mistake, there must have been a mistake it's not real it can't be happening. I raised my head to look at one of my best friends shock on his face second only to mine. Coach apologized to those who hadn’t made the team and offered, if anyone wanted to know why they had been cut they could come speak to him and the assistant coach privately. What did I have to lose? So I went. It would have taken a real man to be able to look a coach in the face immediately after his dreams had been crushed, I am not embarrassed to admit that there were tears in my eyes as i conversed with the two of them. The news of being cut stung, but the reasons that followed pierced my soul; being told that with my skill level i should consider playing a different sport. Life stood still, i told them i would come back the next year and improve and prove myself to them; they had no idea that i had no intention on keeping this promise. Baseball was over, as i tried to gather up the last reserves of my pride i looked across the gym to my friends and lifted my hand in farewell but couldn't stop the tears from streaming down my cheeks. As I walked through the front door of my home i collapsed right in the doorway and finally felt safe enough to truly let my emotions show; I cried for a long time and only paused for a moment when my mother arrived home and looked at me expressing her sorrow through the way she looked at me. If I

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.

When I showed up to softball tryouts at the beginning of my senior year, I was convinced that I was going to be put on the junior varsity team for the fourth consecutive year. I was sure that I would never be moved up to varsity, regardless of how hard I played. My junior year I was embarrassed to be one of only two juniors on J.V. I was so self-conscious, that I had considered quitting so that I wouldn’t be the only senior not on varsity. However, I decided that quitting would be more humiliating than being on J.V. and forced myself to play my final season of softball. I showed up to tryouts the first week of school, and I played with every ounce of effort that I had. When teams were announced, I was legitimately shocked to find out that I

For most of my life, I was skilled in organized sports, especially soccer, which I had played for many years. After a successful soccer season my freshman year, I thought that I would make the JV team for sure. At tryouts, I went through the motions of each drill. I breezed through the conditioning tests, doing the bare minimum for each test. I didn’t try as hard as others, as I felt that I was more skillful than most of my peers.

Thank you for trying out”. Those exact words were printed on the baseball list. I then got a text in middle of class from friend saying that my name is not on the list. At first i thought it was an error made by the coaching staff because at out of all the people how could i have been cut off like that? So, my first intention was to text my coach. I asked him if i got cut off the team and if there was a mistake made. But, I get a text saying “see me at lunch”. At that point, i knew i was cut. I was so confused. How could a coach cut a player that was batting over 400 and was getting clutch hits against one of the best schools in the game. A player that never complained and did what he was told since the start. I dealt with all the annoying little things and provided for the team but instead of getting a little recognition, i was just dropped. Was it something i did? Or did he simply not like me? I wanted answer but instead i received pure nonsense and logical reasoning

The first day of tryouts came around and I woke up that morning shaking with excitment and shear nervousness. I ate my bagel and chocolate milk, (a pregame ritual of mine) laced up my cleats, and was on my way. The second I got to the field I knew I was in for a long day. Most of the guys were double my size and looked like they were professionals. After a few days of the long, hard, and grueling tryout process the coaches posted the team on their website. When I saw my name wasn't on the list I felt spiteful, angry, even a little ashamed with myself. I knew I deserved a spot on that team and I was determined to claim it.

It was a very warm and tense place in the gymnasium of the Alpena High School. A group of freshman and sophomore baseball players were waiting for the words you wanted to hear which was “Congratulations” or the not so good news of “Sorry” from the coach deciding if you made the team. Personally, at the start of baseball tryouts I thought to myself it’s going to be a toss up to see if I would make the team having a 50/50 chance. I was nervous for the most part because there were an abundace of upperclassman also trying out for the team that were on it last year. There were twenty-seven people trying out for fifteen spots to play JV baseball.

They watched us like a hawk, depicting every single move we made. I was a nervous wreck when I was at the tryouts. I was only an eight year old stout looking boy at the time. My mom thought I was good enough to try out for the majors, the only thing she didn’t realize, is the nine year olds who were trying out were bigger, faster, and stronger. When the tryout was going on and it was my turn for a flyball to the outfield, I would run to the ball like a fox, as fast as I could to the baseball

As I put off opportunities to improve my skills, and my character, the toll only became harsher and more difficult to overcome. In turn, my status among the other athletes began to deteriorate. Witnessing my peers expedite their game as I still struggled did not phase me so much at the time. In fact, I was sure that my role on the team would remain the same. This was obviously false, as within the matter of weeks I was pushed back further in the batting lineup, and committing more errors in the field than ever before. It was during our playoff run that I had realized the resulting detriment, when each player was counted on more than ever before. We ended up making it to the championship, only being one run short of winning. Although our team was able to accomplish that much, I felt short handed when it came to the successful

I stayed on the mound even when there were three outs. I belonged to both sides. At this point during practice, I could feel my muscles in my arm starting to ache from the strenuous exercise I was putting on my arm just through a practice. After every inning my coach would look up at me through his baseball cap squinting. He always said the same line, “ Janie, you want me to give this a go?”

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.

All my life I have always had an intriguing interest for baseball, I started at a very young age with tee ball and playing all the way up until my senior year in high school. Even though I’ve played all these years of baseball, I’m going to tell you about my junior year and our championship run. It all started in the offseason, in which we use to get ready for our season in the spring. In the off season we start with throwing witched turned out for to be my biggest conflict, while throwing in the off season I tore a muscle in my right throwing shoulder which was a tremendous setback for me and my preparation for the season. The doctor started me on a rehab program and lucky shortly after my rehab I was ready to get back out there and prepare for my season.

We decided to pass the ball around to help kill time. I saw many familiar faces many of the girls I grew up playing with on rec leagues were going to tryout. At exactly 5:30 sharp the tryouts commenced. We started with a simple 3 lap jog or so it sounded. At the pace the older girls were taking those three laps they might as well have called it a three lap sprint. After the worst three laps of my life I was drenched in sweat and breathing as heavily as a dog after it chases a squirrel. After we got past the sprinting and stamina part I began to show what I could really do. I tried my hardest on every drill that they had us do so I could ensure myself a spot on the team. After that there was still one day of tryouts that would be the following day. The next day we did mostly the same stuff we had done the day before but you could feel that everyone was trying their best to impress the coaches that were judging us. As the tryouts came to a close I hoped that had done just enough to catch the eye of one of the judges. After the second day of tryouts the coordinators told us that know who did and didn't make the

Looking out in the crowd, I took a quick glance at the stands to notice a bunch of college and professional baseball scouts on a muggy summer night. In my mind all I could think to myself is that these coaches determine my future due to my performance. This was the moment that I have been putting in endless hours of brutal training for, to help me fulfill my dream of playing upper level baseball. As one of the coaches called me by my last name, I walked up to the spotlight where hundreds of coaches were looking at me as if I was a piece of meat at a meat auction. It was my turn to bat and throw, I can remember my heart racing as fast as a jet and I could feel the tension building up from my toes to my neck. I have never had this feeling before,

It was the start of another Shabbona Park baseball season. My spirits were high, and I was excited to get back to the grind. I was particularly excited in seeing my coach, Mr. Augustine. He was the one person, as paid to do so, on the team who would look forward to honing in on the skills of every player on the field. In previous seasons, he would give us advice to keep us motivated on the season ahead, but to me they were words of wisdom. One is his famous quotes was, “Always show your best self out on the field.” His words inspired me to work tirelessly on my craft. I watched videos on YouTube and learned my position. Went to batting cages every weekend until my hand got blisters on my