Suddenly I Became Me
When I was younger, I went through a series of odd phases. Odd in the sense that even I fail to see the connection between them and I’m the one that experiencedthem. One moment, I wanted to be the world’s fastest baseball player and in the next I wanted to be a “radical” or “mad gnarly” skateboarder. But I rarely decided these things on my own; it was usually someone else who started me on my different paths to greatness. When I was about six or seven, I had troubles sleeping and my dad believed he had the perfect remedy, the panacea for what ailed me; a terrifying science book about deep sea life complete with 3D glasses and imagery. Pops didn’t expect me to enjoy the book as much as I did. In fact, he hadn’t planned on staying up an extra hour listing off the facts about the elusive and mysterious Goblin Shark to appease my appetite for knowledge. For years afterwards I wanted so desperately to explore the Earth’s oceans in its entirety and learn all I could possibly learn about the secrets lurking in their inky depths. That was, until I discovered the joys of baseball.
…show more content…
Sports never interested me much but my dad wanted me to at least try baseball when I was about ten or eleven. I detested the idea but I agreed to attending one practice to see if I liked it. Surprise, I didn’t. I loved it! Nothing gave me as big a rush as stealing home or hitting that rubberand cork ball clear across the baseball field. I was fast, faster than anyone on the planet, I used to think. I was unstoppable. Baseball was all I ever wanted to do with my life, I even wanted to go to college for free with a baseball scholarship and study marine biology; grand plans for a ten year old. But even that changed one fateful
I’ve taken part in baseball since I was 3 years old, it is by far my favorite sport. It truly holds something very special to me, because I look forward to it each year. When the season ends I enjoy it for about 2 weeks off, but then realize I’m not going to have another team practice til next year. My 9th grade year of sports took a turn of events when I tore my meniscus during football season. I had surgery March 8th of 2017. I couldn’t play that season and I was pretty depressed seeing all my buddies play. I remember hobbling over to meet Coach Boom and introducing myself saying I could help out doing stats for him. I tried to keep myself involved but it was hard not playing and just sitting on bench watching my family
Hugh Prather writes, “Just when I think I have learned the way to live, life changes.” In many ways others have caused me to look at life differently. In addition to people, sports and the outdoors have made me who I am and have guided me to making choices for my future. Both baseball and basketball have taught me discipline, fishing has taught me patience and that I need to enjoy the little things, and most importantly, my step-dad has developed a model of the kind of father I want to be someday. Baseball is probably my strongest area in life.
Growing up, my dad made sure that my brothers were involved in sports. Because he thought that football was too rough for them at a young age he signed them up for baseball. From then on out, we became a baseball family. Everything we did, all of our family friends were because of the sport. Even though, I did not play the sport, I still loved the game. It was the beginning of my seventh grade year when my dad informed me that it was mandatory that I participate in an extracurricular activity and because my dad was the authoritarian saying “no” to him was not a question. It was then that I decided to join a softball team.
In the spring of my seventh eighth grade year I decided to branch out and try a new sport. I signed up for our school’s softball team. A new coach was going to be taking on the difficult task of teaching the love of the game to a group of girls. The coach was going to be my English teacher. Mr. D taught the team to play softball well. He
The air was cold and eerie as my teammates and I got ready to take the field for baseball practice. Our coach called for a night practice in the middle of September following our devastating loss in the championship game a few weeks ago. “Let’s go! Start running laps around the field!” my coach shouted as players were still getting dressed and warming up. Most of my teammates still shattered by the championship loss weren’t feeling enthusiastic about practicing. We finished running our laps and moved on to the next portion of our practice which was long tossing. I wasn’t aware that such a routine practice would be the one to change my life.
Baseball sign-ups were ending that week, and that’s when I realized that, that moment would change the rest of my life. My mom asked me to sign the paper, but I denied it and announced that I wasn’t going to do baseball. After that came out of my mouth, mom was in shock because I loved the sport so much. Later in the day, I thought about it and was a little nervous because I was worried that I would want to go back to baseball. When I told all of my friends, they were surprised as well. A few days past on and some kids were picking on me, but it didn’t get to me because they will be watching me in the “Masters Championship” (the “Masters” is when the best of the best compete to see who the best golfer is that year).
I started on the high school football team and didn’t do too bad. I ended up getting all district defensive back which was good to have. I also started on the high school basketball team. This was a pretty good year we didn’t do to bad but got beat out in regionals. It was one of the most painful times of my life because it meant a lot to me and the team. I couldn’t believe it happened. We worked so hard. A good thing about it is that I improved and did better that year. I also tried a crazy thing which was to play baseball. I have never played baseball in my life nor did I like it. I went ahead and tried it out anyways. I enjoyed it but I was not good at it. I couldn’t seem to find the ball in the outfield. I was a decent pitcher and batter though. The best part about baseball was the bus ride I enjoyed them a
I had been playing baseball for five seasons but still couldn’t get the hang of it. Since I was seven years old I could never hit a baseball, and now I was 9 and wasn’t any better. I could never take a roaring swing at the ball and let it shoot across the field. You’d think experience would make me wiser but nothing could. My father being the baseball expert he is would always drive me home after every game trying to teach me the basics. He’d say lock eyes on the ball and bring your hands toward it. He said it like it was a simple technique but it sure wasn’t for me. Baseball never was a second language for me like it was for my father and uncle. They had always played together growing up. My father would always have a fun stories about each game he played, and how
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
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 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 some of the younger boys in the program for the upcoming season. One of my core beliefs is that it’s important 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 to help him back.
I used to play baseball in high school and college. I even played in an over thirty league back in the mid eighties. When my child Sarah was born in 1991, baseball wasn't something I thought she would ever be interested in. But when she was about six, I took her over to the park to hit some baseballs. She picked up the balls after I hit them, and she got up to bat. She hit a few balls, and she even ran the bases. Sarah had and still has athletic ability- good hand eye coordination, flexibility, strength and agility. Well, when Sarah was 7, she came to me one day and said, "Hey dad can I play soccer?" I said, "Sure." So I went out and bought her a soccer ball, shin guards, and
I was born in Independence, MO on November 14, 1999. I was born into a sports family. My great grandpa and grandpa started teaching me baseball as soon as I could hold one. My great grandma and grandpa babysat me while my Mom was at work. He would sit on the floor and roll the ball to me. When it got warmer, we would go outside and play on his deck. I have loved baseball ever since. Sports have always been my passion. I play baseball and basketball. I started playing basketball my freshman year of high school and started playing baseball as soon as I was ready. There was never a time in my life where I wanted to stop playing sports, never once. I have never had a coach that has made me want to quit playing. If I had a coach that hated me, I paid attention to myself and didn’t let him get to my head about playing the game. I am going to try so hard to go as far as possible with baseball. I want to play baseball for the rest of my life. It’s what I’ve wanted to do since I was in middle school. I’ve known what I wanted to do with my life for the longest time. Sports are “my everything” and
I have always felt a disconnection from family, and, coupled with my misanthropic tendencies, for most of my formative years I was raised by the internet and television--a foster child of escapism. I continued like this for most of my life until my Junior year in high school. During the transition to my Junior year my normal modes of escapism faded away, and alone with the echo of my thoughts I was at my lowest point: my grades were below what I could achieve due to my negligence, my pride and self-doubt swallowed me, and I had succumbed to the usual trappings of adolescent arrogance. I want to say that I had an epiphany, or that I over night I changed into the changing man I am today, but that isn’t true. Though, through the streets of my
The summer of 2016 was one baseball season that will never escape my mind. Unfortunately, breaking my elbow was the last straw- so I thought. The problem with last summer was I could not stay healthy or happy. That was until my coach came over and flipped my declaration. He pushed me to go back out and encouraged me to play the game of baseball which I admire! My dad was another inspiration for me to achieve my goals I could not stay cheerful and became depressed. It seemed everything became serious. I eventually became determined to get back onto the field. I was never a guy to hit the ball far, and I always joked about hitting my first home run, but that joke became a reality.
From the time I was able to walk I wanted to be a professional baseball player. I always fantasized it being game seven of the world series, with my team down three runs, the bases loaded with two outs, and I was up to bat. Of course every single time I fantasized about this, which was a lot I might add, I knocked a 400 foot home run in the left field bleachers to win the world series. I played in numerous amounts of wiffle ball games with my brother, sister, and my dad in backyard even when I was only two years old and would run the bases backwards. By the way, my family is super competitive, so there were some intense games in my backyard. Baseball has been my love since day one. The word “ball” was even my first word. I have played in probably a billion baseball games in my life and I have not regretted one second of it. I have had an amazing career playing and I am truly blessed for the ability I have been given, but I know I will never actually be able to