Personal Narrative: There's No Cry In Baseball

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.

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.

Every one was stretching and doing hitting practice. Unfortunantly I was not gonna pitch this game. The game finally started and in the first inning the pitcher was giving up so many runs. Eventually he got three outs and the score was 4-0. When we went up to bat we scored no runs unfourtanatly and the coach was kind of mad at us. When we went back on the field our pitcher gave up one more run and the coach decided to take the pitcher out and switch him out with the first base men. Also i was playing 3rd base throught the game. The new pitcher threw really hard and was striking everyone out, and because of that the inning went by really fast. When we went up to to hit this time we started scoring runs on the other team and when the pitcher finally got us out we had already done all the damage and the score was all tied up. The other team was scoring no more runs because of the dominate pitcher we had on the mound. However, for some reason we couldnt score no more runs against the other team, even when we had runners on base we couldnt do nothing, they

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.

It was about 4:00, on game day against Courtland, when I told the team we should probably start our pregame warmups. This consisted of everything that a normal high school baseball team does before a game. We started off by taking a jog to the flagpole on the centerfield fence, which is also where we stretched . We followed that up with getting a light toss in just good enough to get our arms ready for a game. Courtland was then announced and right after that was my team, the Eastern View Cyclones. The national anthem was then played and directly after it ended the umpire called out, “Play

This particular Sunday, we had already played four other games. We were nearing the end of our fifth, the championship game, and I was almost up to bat. I slipped my gloves on, black with white lightning stripes, giving me a sense of power. The player up to bat sadly strikes out, giving us our second out as the game is tied. The ump looks at me motions for me to approach the plate. I stepped out of the practice circle and took a few practice swings. Lift, step, plant, twist, bring the bat around, follow through, slap. Lift, step, plant, twist, bring the bat around, follow through, slap. Over and over, the same swing I’ve spent countless hours perfecting back at our practice academy in Olathe.

I was so focused on making the catch that I never said anything to the other girl racing to the ball, and as I leapt forward to catch the ball before it hit the ground, my face crashed right into the other girl's shoulder smashing my nose in the process. This was the most painful injury I ever sustained in softball, but it taught me that communication is a key skill to all aspects of

After our coach gave us a pep talk about the game and trying to get us hype for the game on Saturday. Then we grabbed our bats and gloves and was getting ready to go on the field. We were about to come out of the tunnel but the coach said let's go get them.

In the first inning we were on defense and we had our ideal positions out on the field. I was on first base and the coach's son William was the pitcher. All the other positions were filled with other athletes mostly dedicated to baseball or another sport. We had a great start to the game with an easy pop out. Although the next hit was wacked into left field getting him an easy double. We retired the last two batters with easy

“Next up the right fielder Auuuuusstin Meeeehhhhrrrr” belows out of the speakers at full blast as I approach the plate. Feeling loose I ease into the batter's box sinking my cleats deep into the soft dirt where I can get a solid stance. Stretching my bat across the plate showing the pitcher how much reach I have tempting him to throw one in the zone. Weight is on my back leg as I slowly bounce the bat in my hands anticipating the first pitch. The pitcher begins his windup and I stop moving the bat and focus on the ball.

I could feel the pitcher’s stress from 200 feet away in the dugout. We were up five at the top of the eighth, but the win was not secure. I could tell the pitcher was struggling to keep his composure. Suddenly, the coach calls me to warm up in the bullpen. I was excited and nervous to enter the game; I knew my warming up would add pressure to the pitcher and this was the Legion Sub-State Semifinal game, which determined our chance to advance to state. By the time I got to the mound, the bases were loaded with two outs. I noticed the packed stadium, felt the sweltering 90 degrees, and sensed the crowd’s tension. I had never pitched against this team, so I relied on communicating with the catcher. I threw a knee high fastball--STRIKE ONE. Next, I threw low and away curveball--STRIKE TWO. The catcher signaled a high fastball, knowing the batter was expecting another curveball. The batter chased the ball--STRIKE THREE. We won the game and moved on to finals. Two hours in the dug out, five minutes in the bullpen, and thirty seconds on the mound--not to mention fifteen hours a week, ten months a year for fifteen years--all culminated in a few seconds to advance

When my coach put me in the game I looked at him and said are you sure you want me to do this coach he said yes get out here and play and have a good time while you’re out there. I ran out to left field and I had that feeling like please don’t hit the ball to me but that didn’t happen the next pitch the ball came straight out to left field and I made this play that I was really proud of myself for it was a huge part of my life to be able to go out there and making plays and not letting my team down and having are team play like a teams it was just a great time.

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.

Then in the fourth inning we scored one more run making it five to three going into the bottom of the fourth at this point I was beyond scared because the coach told me to be ready to pitch. In the bottom of the fourth inning they scored one more run making it five to four we did not score in the top of the fifth and in the bottom of the fifth West Central got their first two batters on base. The coach walked on to the mound and motioned to me that I was going to pitch. I was very scared; all I was trying to do was throw strikes which I did, we got out of the inning without them scoring. Then the bottom of the sixth came where again their first two batters got on base, I thought I am going to lose the state championship for my team, but somehow I struck out next three batters. When the bottom of the seventh came and we were still ahead, I knew that we were going to win I was not scared at all anymore. I got the first three batters out to win the championship the team’s first ever state championship.

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.