Personal Narrative: Two Minutes About Dad

Clouds mugged the sun of light as the day progressed. Dusk filled the air on the baseball diamond where I would leave my legacy. Forth, was the championship game to be played, and the pressure of the starting pitcher, was not fazing me. In the zone, we said the Little League pledge. Jolts of excitement filled my muscles as I recited the piece that I know all too well. Warming up, I was controlled, and was ready to bring it. The game began with a bang. Strikeout after strikeout I fired, giving my all every single pitch. ‘BOOM’ went the glove after every pitch, whizzed right by the petrified batter. However, this was not much different for our team. Just two hits filled the board, I and my teammate Ian Keth. Scoring off of this was efficient,

A ball flew far into the field, our Norse ladies ran after the ball and it was quick;y thrown to Millemmi Lucero. After the pass, Millemmi acts fast to tag our rival running to the next base. “Out” yells the umpire as excitement and anticipation traveled the field. Millemmi #34 of our lady Norse softball team mentioned that “ Life isn't always physical, it has to be mental too, a goal has to be something you mentally want not just physically prepare for.”

We have runners on third and second. I walked up to the plate not confident at all and took a deep breath and walked into the batter's box. The pitcher wasn’ t very intimidating but, I was so nervous because I knew I had to hit the ball to the outfield in order to score. The pitch was perfect, right up the middle, and it was slow. I hit a hard ground ball up the middle and it went all the way to the outfield. Meredith scored! Our crowd cheered, everyone knew that, this hit had helped us get one run closer to winning. I jumped up and down on second base, I was so proud of myself! I had hit an important hit! Next up to bat was Brooklyn she hit one to the outfield also which scored Hallie. Our crowd cheered even louder this time. Everyone was hype and in the moment, it was so much fun. Their crowd was speechless, they knew we didn’t “cheat” or do something wrong, its just

My dad is the perfect picture of the “American Dad.” He plays football in the yard, has “a talk” with any boy before they are allowed to date me, and considers grilling a fine art; so, when he informed my family that we would be embarking on the “Good Ole American Family Road Trip” I was not even slightly surprised. Me being the travel enthusiast that I am was overjoyed at the idea of travelling to other states and experiencing things that I had not yet seen, but I was also weary at the thought of spending almost two weeks straight in a car with my family.

It had been an unbelievable season so far, we were going into the championship game of junior league with only two losses. Of course, the only other team with a better record than us was the black team. We gave them their only loss on the second game of the regular season. Now, after defeating the better of the Mosinee teams in the semi finals, my dad, who was also the coach of our blue team, had stopped to watch the rest of the game between black and red.

I remember the summer of 1960. We sweated in grass-tinted light. In the batter's box, I eyed my father on the mound. My brother ragged on me. He said, "Don’t let Dad strike you out."

"Victoria! Don't forget to pack, it's your dads weekend." My mom shouted across the hallway in our house. My parents have been divorced since before I was born so every time my father was in town I'd visit him. When I was younger, I would always ask my dad if I could spend the night at my cousins house since they were from his side of his family and that was the only time I could see them. Afterwards it became a routine going over to their house, little by little I hated going there but I was left in silence. One night, my cousin Emily went out with her friends and I was left to sleep alone in her room. As I was slowly falling asleep, I heard the door creek open and quietly shut closed... I quickly awaken, my heart beats as if it is about to pop out of my chest, I weep as movements get closer and he says "shhh.." There he was, beside me gliding his fingers down my belly to places his hands shouldn't be.

“So—dad.” Arlene called him dad. Stacey always would be her dad. “I know you and Arlen are itching to see each other, but if you get a chance, I was wondering if you two would discuss something. Arlen and I talked, and we have both been wondering when you’re finally going to decide to move back east. The reason I’m bringing this up is that I my fiancee Jim has been twisting my arm to get married. He even went so far as to mention to mom how nice it would be if he and I got married in Las Vegas. I tried stalling him a while ago by saying I wasn't interested in any big fanfare. He hatched another angle, because he knew Las Vegas is just a hop, skip, and a jump from where you are in California. He was figuring mom would jump at the idea to help

The day I found out my step dad, Greg, had cancer is still etched into my memory. I was in the 7th grade at a basketball game. I was sitting on the bleachers, cheering loudly for our team when my mom came and sat down next to me. Her eyes were bright red and puffy. It was obvious she had been crying so I asked her what was wrong. I remember exactly what she told me, “I need to talk to you. It’s about Greg; He has cancer.” Short and simple, straight to the point. Who knew three little sentences could change your whole life? I definitely didn't.

“Ya son las Cinco y media,” is what my dad would say to me everyday during summer. We would go up to Redlands to this avocado groove to pick avocados. Under the big, tall, leafy trees we would work until our bodies couldn't take it anymore and needed a break. We would work under the hot scorching sun, our faces dripping in sweat until 3:30. I would always get home tired knowing the same thing was waiting for me the next day.

In their infinite wisdom, NAU have scheduled my health insurance payment for January-May, my “course fees” for the spring term and my first rent and meal plan payments for a week before I get my Student Finance money through. Chloe and I are going to go to the finance office on Monday, explain the situation to them and hope that we can be granted an extension. However, given all the financial guarantees we made to NAU before coming here, neither of us are holding our breaths for leniency (especially not Chloe - we have to the cardiologists today to try and get that sorted). I’m just giving you the heads up in case I need to borrow some money until the loan/grant come through.

I had just woken up in the morning getting ready to head to Oak Grove. I arrived at Oak Grove with a few of my team members already there. Once everyone had showed up we took batting practice in the cages. After hitting we had to wait for our bus to show up. The waiting was excruciating. We decided we would pass the time by playing a game. The rules were simple you threw the ball at someone and they had to field it cleanly, if they didn’t they were out. We played for a good twenty minutes forgetting that our bus wasn’t here yet. Our coaches were frantically calling the bus station but the bus wasn’t coming. So a kid on our team named Jake called his parents who lived across the street from the school. He asked them if they could get their RV

The past two days there has been a lot going on, so I’m going to combine them into one entry.

In just four seconds it was all over. Everything I knew about the game had vanished before me as I knew something had just gone terribly wrong. It was only the seventh game of my sophomore season when everything came to an end. In the early innings against Slidell, we clung to a minuscule lead of just one run; I knew that I had to step my game up if we had any chance of winning. As the game progressed through the night and the temperature dropped along with the sun, my body began to ache as I continually pushed it beyond its physical limits. Shivering in the dugout while covered with dried sweat and dirt, coach called my name since it was my turn to bat. As I stepped into the box, I peered down towards third base, catching a glimpse

When I was thirteen, I played the most challenging game of softball that I'd ever experienced in my nine years of playing the game. Softball had always been my favorite sport to play, and, in my mind, I had perfected the craft of being a first baseman. Naturally, I was excited to learn that after a long, successful season, I had been picked to be the all-star team's first baseman. I wasn't surprised because I was good at what I did, and I knew it. Well, in this particular game, I learned the hard way what it was truly like to be a part of a team.