The Day Of The Baseball Field

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

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.

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.

I had to get loose before, like we do for all of our games. The only thing on my mind at that moment was baseball and Fairmont. This was one of the games where only the kids on A played so we knew we could beat them but it wasn’t going to be easy. Evan said, “This is going to be a good game.”

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.

That morning I woke up on the second week of summer, ready for my championship baseball game against Portsmouth. Our U11 all star team sat in second place in the tournament going into the championship against the number one seed Portsmouth Eagles. The whole day leading to the game, all I could think about was the game, not even the amazing apple pie my mom made because my sister begged for it.

The varsity baseball team had just finished a long day of practicing base running, hitting and fielding. It was very hot out and the sun was making us even more tired. Sweat soaked my shirt and dripped off the brim of my hat. I had been up since 6:30, spent all day at school, and practiced baseball for 2 hours. I was so exhausted that I just wanted to go home, take a shower and go to bed. Then my coach called me over and said “Hey Kevin can you help me with the field?”, The last thing I wanted to do was stay after practice to hose down the field and fix the hole in the pitcher's mound.

This is the story about the time I went to my first baseball game in 2004. It was a St Louis Cardinals game against the Cincinnati Reds.

The bus ride down to Peoria was long, but because of our anticipation we felt like it flew by. The tournament directors threw a banquet for all the participants. Each team had a half an hour practice and then were asked to come to the banquet. The next day after the banquet was our first game. We played Hall in our first game, it was a tough win. We were overcome with excitement and happiness. My team and I were moving on to the championship game. The next day we all were up bright and early with excitement and anticipation. We made it to the fields early so we could practice before the game. the game began with the national anthem giving us a new hope for the game. The other team was tough, the pitcher was striking out all of our hitters. The pitcher also hit four home runs during the game. My team and I lost the championship game, but we still made

Although living in a world of uncertainty can be somewhat intriguing, it is even better if you step back and experience the result of your actions take place firsthand. For example, when you are done with school for the day, you go home, and you forget about all of the tests you had to take, and most likely not receiving feedback about your grade for a couple of weeks. Unlike in a sporting game, a typical school day does not give you the opportunity to witness the instantaneous consequence of your actions. The poem “In Baseball” by Baron Wormser places the reader in the stands of a game, watching the ball ebb and flow. “In Baseball” depicts the difference between an athlete and the theoretical “they.”

The pitcher let the first pitch fly, I let it pass me as it bounced on the plate. The catcher stopped the ball and tossed back like she had thousands of times. The next pitch flew in. It was half way to me when I swung, I knew it was the one. The bat connected with the ball in the lower right corner. I didn’t even look before I bolted towards the first. I turned my head and saw the ball was anywhere near second yet, so I turned and ran even faster towards second. Before I knew it the ball had gotten into third, stopping me at second, but getting all three of my teammates in. I looked over and saw my parents cheering, and a smile grew on my face. The next batter knocked me in easily and we were up fifteen to six. I knew we could keep

​On a game day when the phone alarm goes off at 7:00 am, every bullpen catcher knows that the he is in for a long day. First, he will set out his uniform, in reverse order of how he will put the garments on. Sanitary Socks, Stirrups, undershirt, warm up jersey, pants, belt and hat is the order the average bullpen catcher will put on his uniform. After he has set his clothes out, he will get into the team warm ups and retreat to eat breakfast with his team. The cafeteria that the team eats in echoes tired small talk and smells of warm maple syrup covering pre-made waffles that are stale and unappealing to the taste buds. Given approximately forty-five minutes to eat, and steal food for a midgame snack, the team must grab their bags and head to the coaches office for the scouting report of the opposing team for the day. The entire team will enter a dim-lit, musty smelling room as they are confined to those quarters until they have been provided with all the

The next day rolled around. Game day. I was too excited to eat anything at all. I got to the bus, and I sat by my pitcher. It felt like the bus ride took years. Once we got there, I warmed up my pitcher, my nerves eating me alive. My coach tells us that it’s time to start the game. I was so nervous, I was having second thoughts about catching the game. But, I did it anyways. I put my gear on, and went out to the field, greeting the umpire on the way out. I get in my catcher’s position, ready for the pitches

“Hit a home run,” Andrew told me. I couldn’t help the smile that began to form on my face, causing me to laugh at his remark. “You know I will,” I said with a flip of my ponytail. I turned away from the fence and took a few practice swings. How satisfying would it be to hit a home run? Having that feeling of the ball hitting my bat in just the right spot, causing everyone to hear the loud crack when the two connected, or the feeling of watching the ball soar across the field. I wanted desperately to have that dream come true.

It was about time, the game was about to start. The stands were all filled up, people lined up outside to see the game. The players were out in right field practicing in the freshly grown emerald green grass. “Just 10 minutes until the game starts!” excitedly said the commentator.