Personal Narrative: My Love Of Baseball

Thus is the nature of baseball, a fickle game wrought with tradition, the foremost of which is the iron clad law mandating that the game is cruel and will take away as freely as it gives. My father always told me, “Baseball is a game of errors - the best hitters fail seven out of ten times - the key to success is knowing how to deal with the failure.” It is this aspect of the game, its want to frustrate and demoralize the player, that I think has driven most of my

The problem I had was that there was no place to practice. The batting cage was a chest high jungle of weeds imprisoned by chain link fence. The school saw no point in restoring it, and everyone clearly understood the message that baseball and its players just weren’t worth the effort. Everyone, that is, except for me and a handful of my teammates. We would not let them determine our worth.

Ever since I could remember, I have always had a great interest and love for the game of baseball. As a kid, I would spend countless hours in the backyard with my grandfather, or even by myself, tossing, hitting and fielding a baseball. When I wasn't in the yard pretending to be Nomar Garciaparra I would watch the Boston Red Sox games on TV with my Grandfather.  Even in my early adolescence, as impatient as most are, I had the patience to sit there and watch the Sox.With my eyes glued to the screen with a look of anticipation fixed on my face ready to mimic my grandfather with the excitement of a home run hit or the frustration of Mo-Vaughn striking out. Call me crazy, but I was addicted, even as a young boy, to Boston Red Sox baseball.

I grew up in a family of baseball players. My grandpa was the first to really get into then it passed on from my dad to me. Growing up I was always practicing or playing baseball. My father and grandfather taught me the basics and it was almost a new way of socialization. Having to learn baseball was like learning a new language. Playing baseball when I was young started as just fun. Starting at the age of 5 I never did much playing. I more so stood in the field and kicked dirt around.

The life of a young baseball player is a very enjoyable one. Baseball has always been my favorite sport, it requires the highest amount of concentration and mental strength. Physical strength is also required to be able to hit and throw the ball; these are all skills required that apparently my freshman year of highschool I did not posses. I had always believed that I had the necessary skills to play baseball and play it well. However, tryouts my freshman year proved me wrong.

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.

Many people don't understand the point in playing baseball. Why would someone swing a stick, hit a ball, and try to get back to where they started before the ball returns? What pleasure is there in that? Why not participate in a sport like wrestling or track where there is an obvious level of individual improvement and therefore pleasure. Well, I play baseball because of the love I have for the sport, and because of the feeling that overwhelms me every time I walk onto a baseball field. When I walk onto a field I am given the desire to better myself not only as an athlete, but also as a person. The thoughts and feelings I get drive me to work hard towards my goals and to be a better person. The most relevant

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.

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.

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.

it's a hot Texas Sun beat down upon my neck a fast ball whizzed past my bat and into the catcher's glove after you had another strikeout. I trudged back to the dugout thoughts of failure filled my mind of my confidence slowly vanishing. I wasn't accustomed to anything less than success before high school. I prospered in youth athletics while living in South Dakota. I had a phenomenal baseball coach to transform my robbed potential into success on the baseball diamond. Unfortunately, my father's Air Force career demanded that we move before my baseball season. Without me my team went on to win the city state championships advancing all the way to the Little League World. When I was younger my family moved to not affect my athletic performance the difficulties began I was torn from my tight-knit community in Northern Virginia and forced to adjust to life in West Texas prior to the start of my freshman year. I struggled to regain the close friends and relationships I left behind for the first time in my life.

I have always been passionate about baseball, whenever I have a chance I watch baseball highlights or I watch a game because it is just a very interesting sport. I’ve been playing baseball since I was about eight years old it is a very big passion of mine, and the way I keep with this passion is by practicing everyday by myself at home or with the school, I just try my best to accomplish getting better everyday, without this sport I really don’t think that I would be the person I am because baseball certainly has had a gargantuan impact on me. The place where I grew up was a very good place to live in, because there wasn’t any robberies or any weed being smoked, but as I grew up some robberies happen, but some people on my street smoke weed, and I feel like If I didn’t really care about baseball at all then I probably could’ve been one of those people that smoke or take

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,

Everybody has memories they will never forget. The first of mine is playing baseball when I was six years old. My dad had always played sports and I wanted to follow in his footsteps. Baseball was my dream at a young age and it all started with the Tigers. I’ll always remember stepping onto the field for the first time and feeling the excitement rush through me. I was lucky enough to get the opportunity to be the team’s starting catcher. I liked the feeling of being in command behind the plate and felt like I had some sort of control over the game. I don’t remember a whole lot about the first game, but I do remember my first hit. I can tell you that I’ve never felt so excited in my life as I connected with the ball and began running to first base. I knew that made my dad extremely happy.

I always consider myself to play Major League baseball; as I grew up; I realized that I would need a backup plan. By the seventh grade I noticed that I liked to do hands on activities and problem solve difficult tasks. I displayed all the interests of an electrical engineer. I believe that the interest really may have started at an even younger age. My father has been a maintenance technician for almost 25 years. In say that, I enjoyed watching my dad fix things which sparked my interest in fixing things, or at least look into the engineering field.