Steve Ballard's Corruption Techniques

I walked up to home plate nervous because my grandfather was in the stands watching for the first time, but I took a deep breath, tightened my grip on the bat, and stepped into the batter’s box. The pitcher looked at me and smiled he had to think I was going to be easy, but I wasn’t going to give in without fight. He took a quick glance at the runner on second, and boom the fast ball came in so fast I didn’t even know he threw it. Now I was shaking. The pitcher had the upper hand, but I looked at my dad who with his eyes said to me “you can do this” so once again I took a deep breath, tightened my grip, and stepped back into the batter’s box. The pitcher throws the ball hard as I load up and swing hard, but the ball curves

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.

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

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,

My emotions were slowly building up throughout the day. Adrenaline was running through my body from excitement as I walked towards the locker room, which we called the clubhouse. I arrived at the front door to be greeted by music and some teammates changing into their uniforms. I slowly walked to my locker when it suddenly hit me… we’re in the semi-regional finals. The thought staggered me as I stood there staring at my lightly stained uniform. All the noise muffled out of my mind as I’m trying to focus. I snap back to reality as I hear my coach calling my name. He simply hands me the folded American flag as if it’s almost routine. Putting up the America flag has been my unofficial job for home games. Once the flag is up I make my way back to the clubhouse, pick up my gear and stroll down to

Only being the bat boy, Stanton had to bring his equipment to the ballpark everyday and go hit in the batting cages before the team showed up. Stanton thought to himself, “Why is coach asking me to swing in batting practice today? He has never done that once since I became the bat boy.” Stanton walked back onto the field and stepped into the batter’s box. Before Stanton even took a swing, he looked at the beautiful Marlins Park. Straight ahead was the bright, colorful outfield walls that were painted green. Stanton soaked in the atmosphere. While the batting practice pitcher went to throw the first pitch to Stanton, Johnny Field, the Marlins seventh round draft pick said, “Come on coach! You’re giving the bat boy a couple swings? Ha-ha that’s funny.” Just as Field finished his sentence, Scotty Stanton crushed the first pitch he saw into the left-center field gap, landing at an estimate four hundred feet. Coach Mattingly said, “Sit your ass down Field, we should have drafted this kid over you!” Stanton gave Mattingly a smile. Stanton continued to punish balls, smashing them all over Marlins Park. To others, it was just batting practice, but to Stanton, it meant more. It felt as if he had the game of baseball back in his life. When Stanton’s round was over, the Marlins players were impressed, besides the envious Johnny Field. One Marlins player even told Mattingly that this kid needs to be in the lineup. Mattingly

As a four-year varsity-starting catcher for his high school, Steve was destined for greatness as soon as he stepped onto the field. His coach John Martin described the 6’2” 210 pound player as “the greatest athlete he’s ever had the pleasure to coach,” and that Steve was a “unique physical specimen.” Whenever he set foot on the diamond Steve was always at least two or three steps ahead of the competition. Whether it was always knowing where to make the play before it even came to him, or positioning his teammates in a way

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.

The tigers have been playing a lot longer than we all have, we lined up, I was the first on to bat. He pitch STRIKE 1, he pitched again, I swung my hardest… and… SMACK the ball kept growing higher and longer HOMERUN!! The crowd went wild! We hit the first point of the game. Next it was Jimmy, Jimmy always hit higher and longer home runs than me. As Jimmy went up to bat, the pitcher pitch and.. SMACK! It went really high and came down right over the fence. The hooper redbirds were in the lead with two home runs and no outs. ¨man this going to be an easy game¨ I said while watching the game next up Johnpaul he was the bet batter and catcher on our team, every home run he gets he gets 5$ from his parents. As he walked up to bat I was thinking ¨we have to win this game so i can stay on the team¨ he pitch BAM! Flew into the outfield and out of the arena!

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

As the confetti streamed over the royal blue pinstriped uniforms of Chicago’s champs, I sent a text to my friend: “Are you watching this?” “Watching what?” he replied. “The Cubs!” “No, I don’t like baseball.

Two outs, full count, Crushers still up 7-6, bottom of the 7th with the Stix as the home team and a runner on first. Hardester throws one more a little outside and McCoy fouls it off. Next pitch right down the pipe and she hits a hard ground ball up the middle… and… KAMRYN LOHDEN DIVES FOR IT.”

I thought they thoroughly perceived me only in light of the fact that our bats were ablaze. We worked our way up to score three keeps running in that inning and we led the pack. Unfortunately, they got an opportunity to bat. I was still in the diversion and I had tossed around one hundred and thirty pitches which is a considerable measure for a pitcher. Traditionally mentors take out their pitchers when they hit the one hundred pitch stamp. I was now ready to ambulate out of the hole and onto the field when Coach halted me.

Some people just think softball is as simple as someone swinging a stick, hitting a ball, and trying to get back to where they started. They don’t see what softball really means to someone like me. Someone who has dedicated their life just to be able to play on that field at a certain level. Someone who wants to go to college and play the sport that they love. Well, I play softball because of the love I have for the sport.

Sheldon has thrown many good games, but when he pitched against East Peoria was probably his best yet. Sheldon pitched so amazing in that game, he had a no hitter going into the 4th inning. Sadly our team lost...it was a good learning experience. He vividly remembers that game.