Pitching: A Short Story

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.

Imagine standing on a softball field expected to perform at the age of 5. Even though the butterflies in my stomach were starting a war, nothing was going to stop me from stepping on that field to play my first tee ball game as a Little Tiger. Fans cheered, but what I noticed most was a little boy in the outfield picking his nose. Standing in the box, I was terrified; the field looked huge. I had never seen anything like this before, but I knew that the little boy was the person I needed to hit the ball to, so I hit the ball as hard as I could. The ball went soaring through the air like a bird on fire. Dropping from the air, it rolled to the fence. At that time, I knew I had fallen in love with the game of softball. I was smiling from ear to ear, I couldn’t believe I had hit the ball that far! Both sides screamed, yelled, and shouted with excitement. Was all this commotion for me? I rounded first, but I couldn’t go to second because my teammate, Kylie Leach, didn’t run. I didn’t know what she was doing. Sadly, the batter after me hit a ground ball to the pitcher, and the other team threw him out at first.

With the heat and pressure of the season fully upon us, it’s a nice change of pace lend a hand in our local communities. So, when the Prospect Valley Rebels little league baseball team needed help rebuilding their baseball field, they came to LGE. The field was in disrepair – full of weeds and rocks – making it an uninviting place to be, let alone a place to play baseball. LGE stepped up to the plate (pun intended) with donations of material, trucking, and equipment time. Along with helping hands from volunteers from the baseball team and the local community, the field was soon ready for the kids to play ball. Now this field is an enjoyable place to watch a baseball game on a hot summer afternoon.

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,

The Women’s College World Series is the last round of the NCAA Tournament, where the National Champion is decided. Every little girl, that plays softball dreams of playing in the Women’s College World Series. This past season, it was a dream come true for the Michigan Women’s Softball team to make it to the World Series. As a player and as a fan the World Series is one of the best experiences to be a part of. Fans are outside of the stadium tailgating all day long. Then at came time thousands of fans rush in to the stadium to take their seats. This past year the overall attendance record was broken. There were 78,078 fans, breaking the previous record of 75,960. Everyone’s family and friends wants to be there so badly.

Neil has been coaching the Connecticut Charmer’s Showcase Softball team for 26 years. He has watched many including his one and only middle aged daughter clime the latter to success. Everyone in the competitive softball world that is driven to play for a well-known college softball team knows Neil. Not even an entire year goes by when the parents, players, and other coaches realize Neil is not just any ordinary coach. He only goes by one way and that’s his way.

Have you ever seen a pitcher pitch a one pitch inning. That's 3 outs in one pitch. Ben Jablonski did that in a baseball game over the summer. In the end they were still defeated by a lot of runs.

As the first day started, butterflies filled everyone who stepped on the baseball diamond. The distinguished and admirable upper classmen smirked at the scrawny freshmen in disbelief of our abilities. I was not one to draw attention to myself, so I went about minding my own business trying not get noticed by the older boys. As the notorious head coach strutted onto the field, every single soul cowered at his presence. The coach then bellowed, “Let the tryouts begin. We will start with our hitting.”

Physics is the study of matter, energy, and the interaction between them. Physics is involved in so many things, from sports to spacecraft to instruments. One of the sports physics is involved in is softball. Newton’s first law states when an object is in motion it stays in motion until acted upon by an outside force. This is the key element in softball.

By now, Jennie’s life was focused on softball, though she did have a normal life outside the sport. She liked to shop, try on her mom’s makeup and hang out with her friends. In school, she was an excellent student. But softball consumed most of her free time. Every summer the sport brought her to a new part of the country for a national tournament.

Hard work never goes un-noticed, and although I did improve, I had acquired the label of ‘outfielder’. The position that wasn’t home to me, but I was forced to recognize as my spot on the field. My first year of Varsity softball arrived and I made it clear infield is where I wanted to be, but my coach’s confidence in me continued to lack to match the level of mine, along with the fact the returning third basemen was a veteran. And the outfield is where I was sent, yet again.

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

The beginning of baseball has had it twist on who started the game and who made the rules to the game. The sport we know as baseball was original name stickball before it became an organized sport. Baseball was a game that many just played as part of their moderate exercise for recreational purpose or time and they used the game to stay in shape. It was usually a middle class white -collar worker who played the game.

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 to 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 a team of the younger boys in the program for the upcoming season. One of my core beliefs is that it’s essential 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

Softball. It’s the art that I do when that lets me be myself. When I swing my bat and it hit the ball it’s like an artist stroking a line of paint on a canvas. When I am throwing a ball and it rolls of my finger tips it letting all the sadness, and worries go away. Playing the game is life painting a masterpiece. Each stroke on the bush is hitting the ball and running to first base. Music. It’s like a band-aid. To protect me when I don’t want to be sad, to express what I can’t express in words. Its when and artist can only express themselves when painted or drawing. And its like me when I listen to music,it’s how I express what I’m feeling inside.