The Bottom Of The 9th

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.

This time, Mac rolled it right down the pike. A meatball. My foot connected and the ball soared off into the distance. It went over the infield and above the center fielder's head, bouncing off the blue bench where we had made teams, and into the bushes. It was a great kick, and a terrific way to start off a game. I ran, as fast as lightning, my legs a machine, pumping towards first base. Then, I slowed to a mild jog when I saw the outfielder just getting the ball. I was Coming around second and heading to third, when Matt Weed, the third baseman, stuck out his leg and tripped me, with a smirk on his face. The ball was passed into the cut off man, who ran over and tagged me. I was not worried. Surely, Seth had seen Matt trip me and would grant me an extra base. Then, common sense hit me; I was talking about

A mistake, there must have been a mistake it's not real it can't be happening. I raised my head to look at one of my best friends shock on his face second only to mine. Coach apologized to those who hadn’t made the team and offered, if anyone wanted to know why they had been cut they could come speak to him and the assistant coach privately. What did I have to lose? So I went. It would have taken a real man to be able to look a coach in the face immediately after his dreams had been crushed, I am not embarrassed to admit that there were tears in my eyes as i conversed with the two of them. The news of being cut stung, but the reasons that followed pierced my soul; being told that with my skill level i should consider playing a different sport. Life stood still, i told them i would come back the next year and improve and prove myself to them; they had no idea that i had no intention on keeping this promise. Baseball was over, as i tried to gather up the last reserves of my pride i looked across the gym to my friends and lifted my hand in farewell but couldn't stop the tears from streaming down my cheeks. As I walked through the front door of my home i collapsed right in the doorway and finally felt safe enough to truly let my emotions show; I cried for a long time and only paused for a moment when my mother arrived home and looked at me expressing her sorrow through the way she looked at me. If I

This particular Sunday, we had already played four other games. We were nearing the end of our fifth, the championship game, and I was almost up to bat. I slipped my gloves on, black with white lightning stripes, giving me a sense of power. The player up to bat sadly strikes out, giving us our second out as the game is tied. The ump looks at me motions for me to approach the plate. I stepped out of the practice circle and took a few practice swings. Lift, step, plant, twist, bring the bat around, follow through, slap. Lift, step, plant, twist, bring the bat around, follow through, slap. Over and over, the same swing I’ve spent countless hours perfecting back at our practice academy in Olathe.

In the bottom of the inning, with the chance to win, I would make the first plate appearance of the inning with hopes to start it off with a hit. Before our at-bats, Coach Sullivan talked to the team saying, “This is the moment you have all worked for. This is where all that extra work will finally pay off. This is a moment you will remember for the rest of your lives. Now GO GET ‘EM!” So I ran in the dugout, grabbed my helmet and bat, and began getting ready for my at-bat. As I was preparing Coach Sullivan came over and gathered up the next few batters, including myself, and said, “Right now! This is your time! Go do your best and good things will happen!” I was as prepared as ever when I finally stepped up to the plate to start the inning. As the pitch came towards me I swung the bat and felt a POP. I looked up to see the ball soar into the outfield and land as a base hit. The next batter was Ben Beis who, on the first pitch, watched a ball in the dirt which got past the catcher allowing me to advance to second base. Ben then did a sacrifice bunt moving me from second base to third

“Right guy, right time!” My dad blurts out, as I dig my left foot into the batter’s box. The count is now 2-2, a pitcher’s count, knowing that I need to be extremely cautious on the next pitch, because if I miss read the ball, I would let everyone down. By the time the pitcher starts his motion I couldn’t be more excited, but nervous at the same time. I’m able to quickly tell that the pitch was a fastball right down the pipe, I put everything I had into that swing, a rip the ball into deep right-center field. The ball takes one bounce and hits the fence. So I take off, like I was being chased by some lions in the African safari. I swing out wide, as my first base coach orders me to go two. As I approach second base I look to see where the ball

The first pitch came in. ¨Ball outside,’’ the umpire said as I stepped out of the box to take a breather. The second pitch came in as a Strike as I tried to get a hack at it but it broke across the plate. I stepped out of the box to regain my composure. Bases loaded 1 out. The third pitch came in and was a fastball that was traveling across the plate at 72 miles per hour, but I got my bat on it at the right time and the ball was in the outfield in a matter of seconds. The ball rolled passed the outfielder as I ran the bases as fast as I could. The outfielder struggled to get the ball in and threw to the cutoff man. By the time he got it in I was already at third for a straight up triple to score three runs to tie it up . “ Timeout,” I called as I took off my helmet and got ready to pitch.Jose took my place to pinch run for me as I needed to start warming up to pitch.

The first pitch that the coach threw to me seared the hair right off my head since it was going so fast. “Strike one!” called the ump. Alright, I needed to believe in my abilities. The next pitched was hurled right in line with my face! When I opened my eyes, I saw that the baseball was a perfect pitch and the catcher hadn’t moved his glove. The coach was making a fool out of me with his famous curve ball. “Strike two!” the umpire proclaimed. The next pitch was the one that I would make my mark on. The pitcher wound up and thrust the ball toward the catcher’s glove. I loaded and fiercely swung as hard as I could. After what seemed like forever, I looked into the catcher’s glove, and there was the ball. I felt dreadful. “Strike three!” I heard in the background. As I walked back to the dugout, I wondered what did I do wrong, what could I have changed, and what does the coach think of

My teammates and I were over-confident and had made some early mental errors. This allowed Cascade to earn three runs in the first inning, while we got none. In the huddle after inning one, our coach said, “Where’s the energy boys? You guys look flat out there!” In the next few innings, we found ways to pick up two runs, only while allowing Cascade another. It was a defensive battle, as neither team could get any runs. By the time we reached the sixth inning, the score was tied four to four. I started to get nervous, as I knew I would have a pivotal at-bat this inning. The first batter got on base with a walk. Our team, was very excited as he was the winning run. Our excitement instantly faded, as the next two batters struck out. This left me up with the last out. Our man on base had stolen to second, putting him in perfect scoring position. My teammates yelled from the dugout, “Let’s go Hinch! You got this big guy.” My coach said to me, “Alex, sit back and drive the ball. Make sure it’s a good pitch!” I could feel the pressure of the moment, but wanted to be the guy to get us the win. The at-bat started off slow as I got two strikes and two balls. On the fifth pitch, I got a ball right down the middle. I made a big swing at the ball and felt it come off my bat. Immediately, I started sprinting towards first and was signaled to go for second. The winning run had scored and our team went wild! We had won the game, and left Cascade with two victories. From this point on, I was much more confident. My teammates also felt a new sense of belief in me. The rest of the year was very enjoyable and left me with many new friendships! It was a summer I will always

Toward the beginning of the game, one of the other team’s best hitter was up. I was playing outfield and the first hit came. Pow! I went over all of our heads, but luckily it was a foul ball. On the second hit, it

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.

It was a dark thursday night in April. The sky was clear enough to see the moon shining brightly along with many small circular diamonds. I’m in a dark blue Avalanche, being driven to a baseball diamond. I play for the MIlwaukee Brewers on a little league level. It’s my last game of the season, and I can’t wait for the umpire to say the words “Play Ball” (which states that the game has begun).

The glare is no longer in my eyes and I can finally see and I look at the pitcher, I get in my stance, take a deep breath and then I don't hear anything. I hear no cheering, no chants, no yelling. All I can hear is the slap of the glove, all I can see is the dirty green softball coming fast down the line. My eyes narrow in, I shift my weight and swing. "CRACK!" was the noise from the ball making perfect contact with the ball I start running around the bases and so do my teammates. I don't even pay attention to where the ball is I just keep running. Rounding second base I look up at my coach and he is jumping up and down yelling for me to slide into home so down I go knocking the catcher down with me. I get up to my teammates running out and tackling me back down to the ground with

It was the top of the seventh, and the Freeburg Rebels had a 1 run lead. After one of my teammates made the last out, I headed to the mound for the bottom of the last inning. While warming up, I could feel the scorching heat piercing my skin. As the first batter walked up to the plate, the umpire yelled out “Play Ball”! Despite this being one of the most important moments in my baseball career, I wasn’t nervous. I was locked in. On the first pitch, the catcher held up a 1, signaling for a fastball. I started my windup and continued to throw the pitch. The batter swung out of his shoes like he was trying to take one over the Green Monster at Fenway Park. Channeling my inner Bob Gibson, I threw the 2 filthiest breaking balls I’ve ever thrown

I ran to Ms. Gallagher’s room as fast as I could. “I’m going to take you down to radiology so you can get a brain scan,” I informed her. “Why, what’s wrong with me?” she asked. “I’m not sure yet.”