Personal Narrative: My Life As A College Athlete

We walked together to the field, the spikes on the bottom of my cleats clicking with each step on the parking lot pavement. A huge field with onlookers filling the bleachers on the far side came into view, lit up by the soft evening light. I spotted the girls on my team and my tired looking grey-haired coach. Me and my dad split up, me going to warm up with my team and my dad going to sit with the team parents. As I was passing with my teammates I watched the opposing team carefully. I observed how neat their drills were and how accurate their shots and passes were. They all looked so athletic and that really made me doubt myself. How was I supposed to prove to everyone that I was a good player if I had to play against a team this good? What if I mess up and the other team completely destroys my team? The loud buzzer that ended the warm ups sounded and both teams went to their side of the field. My coach called today’s starters out, and luckily he didn’t choose me. Relieved, I went to go sit on one of the hard metal chairs they provided for the teams on the sidelines. The chairs were uncomfortable but that didn’t bother me. I had other things on my mind. I sat shivering watching the events of the game

I was born in Independence, MO on November 14, 1999. I was born into a sports family. My great grandpa and grandpa started teaching me baseball as soon as I could hold one. My great grandma and grandpa babysat me while my Mom was at work. He would sit on the floor and roll the ball to me. When it got warmer, we would go outside and play on his deck. I have loved baseball ever since. Sports have always been my passion. I play baseball and basketball. I started playing basketball my freshman year of high school and started playing baseball as soon as I was ready. There was never a time in my life where I wanted to stop playing sports, never once. I have never had a coach that has made me want to quit playing. If I had a coach that hated me, I paid attention to myself and didn’t let him get to my head about playing the game. I am going to try so hard to go as far as possible with baseball. I want to play baseball for the rest of my life. It’s what I’ve wanted to do since I was in middle school. I’ve known what I wanted to do with my life for the longest time. Sports are “my everything” and

My assistant varsity baseball coach stared me dead in the eyes and said two words to me during my senior year of high school that I would never forget; “Be undeniable.” For me, this was a shockingly new concept. Throughout my childhood, baseball has always a part of my life. From my childhood little league games into my adolescent years, I have always played the game and excelled at it. When I matriculated into high school I could not wait to join varsity and lay the foundation to accomplish my goal of becoming a Division I baseball player in college.

I went home full of excitement and quickly recounted to my mom the success I had that day at baseball. I went to bed that night with more confidence than I thought possible and looking forward to another day of baseball. Made my way through school that day visualizing my performance that afternoon for tryouts. With more excitement than nerve I began the second day of tryouts. Thursday we worked on throwing and catching skills, friday was batting. An area in which I struggled a little more than others but with confidence pouring out of me I stepped into the box. Even with the confidence boost working on my skill I struggled heavily and was not happy with my performance. So trying to keep my confidence up I tried to finish that day of tryouts but I could tell that the coaches were less pleased with my performance that day. There’s not a much faster way to be served a large slice of humble pie than to realize you may not be all that you once thought you were. So keeping that in mind I finished the day doing my best. When we gathered together to make final cuts I could feel my heart beating in

One the the school counselors was talking to me and asked me what I liked to do at home and I told him that I really enjoy to play baseball and little did I know that he was a baseball coach. He told me to go home and ask my parents if I could join the team. When I told them they told me they couldn't pay for it and that they wouldn't be able to bring me to practices or games due to there work schedule. I went back the next day and told the coach what my parents said , he told me not to worry about the money just to show up to practice next week and he would make sure I was on the team. Knowing my parents wouldn't be able to take me to practices I discussed that everyday I would ride my bike to practices and to games I would ask teammates for rides. Tell this day my Baseball coach tells me that every time he saw me come to practices riding my bike and always being the first one there, reminded him of his child hood and showed him the love I have for the game. Even now that I'm 17 year old , I still feel like that little kid whenever I play

Although it would have been easier at the time to stick with what I knew, I wouldn’t let the doubt of others instill itself in my mind. I continued to work hard, excited to prove myself when given the opportunity, with and dedication and determination I knew I had the ability to create my own luck, my chance would come soon enough. And it did. My second year of high school softball rolled around and I knew my chance had arrived. Our only third basemen graduated and it was my turn to prove myself. I wasn’t perfect by any means, but my hard work and dedication that I had put into the sport proved undeniable. At the end of the season I had received first- team all-metro, first- team all-league, and honorable mention all-region, for third

All the ups and downs that are dealt out every game to every player. It has taught me how to deal with so many challenges in my life. Things like: anger, bad calls, getting blown out, blowing a team out, sportsmanship, family, and so much more. Growing up I had very serious anger issues, and was a constant thorn in my mom’s side, always getting in trouble at school and fighting with my older sister. But playing baseball truly cleared the sky for me. I learned while pitching that I needed to control my emotions because if not it would affect the results. I was able to transfer this into my everyday life, by controlling my emotions better I was able to stay out of trouble, get better grades, and realize how important the relationships are that I have with my friends and family. Getting blown out by a team is one of the most upsetting feelings in baseball. While your team sits in the dugout with their tails between their legs, just wishing the game was over, and the other team is is acting like a child in a candy store. This taught me to enjoy the little things in life. Even though the game isn’t going the way I want it to, I should enjoy the fact that I’m doing something I love. I have implemented this into my life in many ways, and it has allowed me to be the right guy, at the right

February 3rd 2013 was tryouts for the high school baseball team. I can remember I marked it on my calendar at home in early fall of 2012 and I worked hard every day so I could be my best and make the team. I remember counting down the days witch felt like for ever and ever. Then the day hit when I had to go out onto the field and show the coaches what I was made for. Before me and the other freshman’s had to be on the field we all were in the field house and seating around waiting on the coach to come and tell us to come outside. I remember all the older kids talking bad on me, they were saying " wow the coaches must have lost it letting you try out for the team”. I told myself to just let the be the fuel to your fire and go out there and be the

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.

High school baseball season does not start until the spring unlike middle school, so I had awhile to wait. I passed the time until the spring by playing football and basketball which I did very well in both, anyways spring baseball came and went and I started to put myself on the radar of the varsity baseball coaches, the next year I was one of two sophomores to play on the varsity baseball team. I really established myself as the future of our pitching staff and I had a very good year finishing with an earned run average per seven innings under

“I’m sorry Larry, but she’s wasn’t good enough to make the team.” This is the phone call my dad received when I was a 7th grader. He comes in and tells me and he sees how I break when he tells me it. I am not playing junior varsity softball. This may seem insignificant, but to me this was huge. A sixth grader made it to junior varsity over me. I was told that I wasn’t good enough. I was told that I’d never be a championship pitcher. I remember when I was seven or so when we were losing a game on my first softball team. There was three of us pitchers. The first was hurt, and the second was too tired to keep pitching accurately. The coach looks around the dugout and asks, “She is getting tired. Who can we put in?” His eyes hover over me and anticipate that I might be going in the game. The coach looks over me and decides that the pitcher that is physically drained should stay in the game over me, who is still full of energy and ready to go in. I started thinking, was I not good enough for him? Was I a failure to the team? Was I even useful?

My most memorable baseball experience came not when I was eight, beating several of my friends on the opposing Little League team, not when I was 15, against our cross-town rivals pushing my school team into the JV playoffs, but just a couple weeks ago, marking the first win of the team that I helped coach. It was just the second game of our season, and only an hour and a half long, but it was a representation of the backbreaking work applied by everyone involved. After my ninth grade year playing JV ball, I decided that I needed to focus on my school work, as it was tough to maintain my grades while juggling sports and other extracurricular activities. However, I continued to play club baseball, as my passion for the game never faltered. The trend continued in my junior year, as I needed to drop club baseball in order to keep up with the challenging courses I took. My coach, who I’ve been with since 6th grade, asked me to come back out whenever I was available so I could help prepare some of the younger boys in the program for the upcoming season. One of my core beliefs is that it’s important to give back to those who helped or supported you; the least I could do for all the years that my coach helped me, was to help him back.

The fact that I was a black kid playing like a pro was not something whites wanted to see. Over the spanned of my baseball career there have been coaches who made it clear that I wasn’t wanted. I remember going to try out for this team located in the trio area that some of my formal teammates played on. When I arrived to try outs there was already a bad vibe on the field. During the middle of try outs the coach approached me and explained how he felt I wasn’t going to be a good fit for the team. He stated that I should use the time during the off season to improve my skills and try again next year. As I looked this man in the eye I knew skills had nothing to with it, so I simple left and joined a different team. Although I hurt I had to moved, I couldn’t allow it to hold me

The next games went by so fast it was October now a month or so left in my high school football career. Just very infuriated at this moment feeling pathetic, since the back therapy I was going threw was almost over. I had a feeling that nothing was going same again this season our record was now 8-0, still not satisfied. Because we only had two games left in regular season and they were against central catholic on Oct,24th 2014 varsity football team lost Friday's home conference game against Central Catholic (Toledo, OH) by a score of 56-33. Now one more game we were 8-1, I was finally done with my physical rehab it was about time missing 8 games total.

Baseball was my life for as long as I can remember. I loved every second of it. The CRACK of the bat on the ball, the sound of a cheering crowd as your round third base, The feeling of America’s pastime, always gave me the greatest sensation. I practiced all the time. Tossing with my dad, hitting balls of the “T”, trying to make myself better than I was the previous day. I was a first baseman, and for good reason, I never let anything get by me, I wasn’t to shabby at hitting either, and through countless days of execution of these particular set of skills, I made sure I stayed that way. I worked my tail off to become the best of the best. I wanted it more than anyone else. But sometimes we don’t get what we want.