Personal Narrative: Waking Up The Right Fielder

I have played the game of baseball since i was at a young age and loved it as soon as i stepped on the diamond. My dad knew i would love it because it involves getting dirty and he's right. This year would be the 12th year straight that i have played baseball and i wouldn't trade any of the time i played for anything. This year has been by far the best year of baseball i have ever been a part of. I made lifetime lasting friends and grew closer to some kids i thought i never would. My team was overall 17-5 on the whole season. My team played very well together and i felt a connection every time we stepped on the field. My team also ended a 8 year long drought for the tri valley league championship. We took on susquenita high school on a new

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.

My breakfast started to creep back up my throat as game time got closer and closer. I walked across the patch of grass behind home plate and was towered over by the 30 foot backstop with a huge net suspended from it. My bulging bag of equipment was beginning to make my shoulder hang. I walked down the steps into the cement dugout and placed my bag under the bench that spanned the entire length of the dugout. I sat down, laced up my cleats, and put my warm-up jacket on in preparation for batting practice. I stepped onto the grass surrounding the dugout to get the feeling of how wet the grass was. I dug my cleats into the grass and began my usual routine of taking certain practice swings as I gazed upon the press box in the wake of the backstop. Preceding the burn in my forearms, caused from the practice swings, I marched behind the dugout to the rows of batting cages to wait my turn in line. Pacing back and forth I knew I had to keep my nervousness to a minimum. I popped in a wad of Big League Chew and continued to

It was the last games of the baseball season. We had are worse pitcher pitching for our team. And they had an ok pitcher pitching. We got to the semi finals and our coach was going nuts. I was in the locker room getting ready for the game and my teammates Austin and Tevan were right next to me also getting ready they were one of the best players on the team.

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

Ever since I was old enough to walk, I loved to play baseball. Baseball was the first true love of my life. I had always imagined myself playing in the big leagues along with Derek Jeter and all of the other big named players. I had the same fantasy along with every other ten year old boy that loved to play the sport of baseball. The only problem with my fantasy was a deal that I made to myself. I told myself," Dalton, if you don't hit an over-the-fence homerun, then you will not play in the big leagues."

lukas k//After school I hung around with my friends until baseball practice at 4:30. until baseball practice. At baseball practice we practice and fielding and hitting.after baseball practice me and my friend Max walked back to his house, after baseball practice me and my friend Max Walked back to his house, because it's only five blocks away.we hung out and rode bike for a couple hours until my dad pick me up. When my dad picked me up, he informed me that I could babysit. my dad picked me up, he informed me that I could babysit. After thinking about it, I said “yes”. He brought me to McDonald's, then to Shanes. The person I babysit for. After babysitting until 330. I went home, took a shower and went to bed. The next morning I got up at

57,308,738 square miles of land on earth and there is only one place, a small percentage of all that land, where I can be completely content. The grass reminds me of summer. The dirt reminds me of injuries and sweat. The softball field is one place I can go to at any point and time and find myself thinking much clearer. Ever since I was really young I have spent most of my time on a softball field, whether it was practice, games, or for personal gain. It seems as though it runs in my family, the diamond being a home away from home. The diamond gives me this sense of relaxation and security. Stepping on the field and realizing how much one person can learn in a matter of time makes me think how much I can learn about other things like engineering and medical

I’ve played baseball for as long as I can remember I was an average baseball player not one that would get a hit every time I stepped up to the plate. I remember stepping up to the plate sweat dripping off my helmet and the palms of my hands were sweating. As I got ready for the pitch I thought to myself why am I overthinking this. I swung and missed at the first pitch. I could feel my heart pounding and my stomach was starting to hurt. I swung and missed again I heard strike two. For a second I thought I got this. The next pitch I hit far but it was just foul. I could hear my teammates screaming go Alex. Then I swung and missed strike three and I walked with my head down back to the dugout. For the rest of the day I didn’t want to talk to

I started playing travel softball when I was twelve years old when a man I had known for several years named Byron asked me to play on his team. Travel ball requires you to have much more knowledge about the game in order to be successful. At this level, we had to begin to use signs while batting and other terminology while playing defense. Byron had been around the game of softball for years and had tons of knowledge to share with his players. For example, when we were working on defense at practice, Coach Byron would hold up a sign that would say something like “6-4-3.” All of the defenders on the field would have to know what that meant so they could execute the play. In this case, it meant we were supposed to turn a double play. It occurred

When the pitcher was getting to pitch , I said to myself “ hit the ball over . “ and that’s what I did . The pitch was just perfect just came at me just how I like it all i could see where the red stitches on the ball . As I got ready to swing the bat I could hear my team cheering me on to hit the ball

All I could think about last night is who else is going to be there. Many of the top pitchers in the country were going to be there. I eat my bacon and eggs and down a five hour energy and hurry out to the backyard to start warmups. I grab my towel and get to work. I finish up my stretches and as soon as I set the towel down my Mom yells “hurry up or we're going to be late.”

If you happen to be at an IVC baseball game next semester, be sure to be on the lookout for our very own pitcher, Steven Panela. Or as his teammates call him, Panelita, for he used to be the smallest guy on the team. He played for the De Anza Bulldogs and helped take them to the CIF semifinals. Even though they lost in the semifinals, I have full confidence that we will be seeing great things from him and the IVC team this upcoming season. I say that because that same year that him and Calexico went to the semifinals, he was awarded Pitcher of the Year and First Team All-League for pitching.

There was runners on second and third with 2 outs, I get up to bat.if i don’t get a hit now the innings over and we might lose this game! The count gets to 3 and 2(3 balls, 2 strikes).

Starr, you were really eager to have a go a playing swing ball. You had played it the other day and asked me if we could get it out again. I went and found the swing ball and set it up for you and Autumn so you could have a game against each other.