Personal Narrative: Mocking The Ball

This time, Mac rolled it right down the pike. A meatball. My foot connected and the ball soared off into the distance. It went over the infield and above the center fielder's head, bouncing off the blue bench where we had made teams, and into the bushes. It was a great kick, and a terrific way to start off a game. I ran, as fast as lightning, my legs a machine, pumping towards first base. Then, I slowed to a mild jog when I saw the outfielder just getting the ball. I was Coming around second and heading to third, when Matt Weed, the third baseman, stuck out his leg and tripped me, with a smirk on his face. The ball was passed into the cut off man, who ran over and tagged me. I was not worried. Surely, Seth had seen Matt trip me and would grant me an extra base. Then, common sense hit me; I was talking about

It was a hot summer day in Hammond, Louisiana and I was pouring down sweat like I had just jumped in a pool. The game was just about to begin, me and my team was eagle eyeing the bomb squad. It was so quiet that you could hear your own sweat hitting the bench. The umpire broke up everyone’s concentration by saying, “play ball”! The defense had ran out on the field and I started rolling ground balls from 2nd to short-stop to third base. They had all made good throws back to me and then I threw the ball into the dug-out because the game had begun.

him right by, as he says ”That ain’t my style”(32). Come the second pitch the same, as though

It was another scorching day. Not only were the players dripping sweat, but the fans in the stands as well. The announcer came on the loudspeakers and welcomed us onto our rivals field.

All game I was comfortable batting until that moment. Right foot in, left foot out, staring at the pitcher, my arms shaking, heart pumping I get ready to bat. First pitch comes, ball outside what a relief. Second pitch, fastball blown right by my waist, buffet strike; I just looked at it. Anxiously wanting to hit the ball, next pitch I swing it goes deep down the foul line. One and one is the count, next pitch I swing and miss, still anxious, and now upset at myself. The common two strike pitch is a curveball. With the knowledge of that, I swing at a curveball in the dirt: "striiiiike three!" the umpire sits me down. I was so upset at myself, but the following batter wins the game for us with a hit right up the right foul line to bring the runner from first to home.

“Remember how it happened! That swing was Perfect!” Arthur responded. ”Pretty soon I might become a baseball player!”

He said that his players were a little nervous right away, something the players themselves admitted to. But they quickly shook their jitters away after hitting the field and throwing the ball around.

My brother’s baseball game had just concluded, which was marked by the sound of a buzzer. The final score: 14-4. His team had clearly won, and the parents around were saying “Congratulations son!”

“Chris pitched well,” Sarkisian said. “He had three pitches working and kept them off balance. He pitched well enough for us to be in the game.”

“I replied with Uncle Danny.” She said okay text me when it’s done. So we drove to the practice and started warming up throwing. After that we got in a huddle in I met the coach the we started practice. We were taking ground balls, pitching and batting practice. Once practice was over the coach said, I like the way you play but I wanna see you in the game. A couple days later I played in

“I can still see that amazing home run. It was a tremendous poke, deep into the stands. There was never any doubt

In the bottom of the inning, with the chance to win, I would make the first plate appearance of the inning with hopes to start it off with a hit. Before our at-bats, Coach Sullivan talked to the team saying, “This is the moment you have all worked for. This is where all that extra work will finally pay off. This is a moment you will remember for the rest of your lives. Now GO GET ‘EM!” So I ran in the dugout, grabbed my helmet and bat, and began getting ready for my at-bat. As I was preparing Coach Sullivan came over and gathered up the next few batters, including myself, and said, “Right now! This is your time! Go do your best and good things will happen!” I was as prepared as ever when I finally stepped up to the plate to start the inning. As the pitch came towards me I swung the bat and felt a POP. I looked up to see the ball soar into the outfield and land as a base hit. The next batter was Ben Beis who, on the first pitch, watched a ball in the dirt which got past the catcher allowing me to advance to second base. Ben then did a sacrifice bunt moving me from second base to third

"Oh! Jackie boy! I brought someone you know all too well buddy boy". Widening the smile I had right across my face as I shoved the end of my baseball bat right between those black little stripes on his face.

“Okay, time to protect up there, you’re swinging at anything close,” my dad yelled from the coaches box at third base.

"Yeah, right!" said Coach half laughing. "Let's just continue to shoot around until the clock is running, OK girls." So I grabbed a ball out of the steel cage in the corner of the gym and started to fling it towards the hoop. "Jaclyn, would you come here for a minute?" asked Coach Moore in a serious tone.