The Game - Original Writing

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.

Focused and determined during batting practice; we hardly spoke. I looked around to see intense eyes complimented by the black smudges we had painted underneath. I wondered if anyone else was feeling the way I was. I was ecstatic and pumped up but I was also melancholy. I suddenly realized as I was standing with my teammates that this was our last tournament together. I was a senior, the oldest on the team. At that moment I decided to lay it all out, not for myself but for my coaches and my teammates. It was my last day of Aces softball so I knew I had to make it

Through my entire life I had been playing baseball. Baseball was the one thing that consumed my life. It was a job to me, not a passion. That was the first problem that resulted in a complete 360 in my life. When I started to play baseball, it was in a way satisfying and fun. It was something every little kid did over the weekend, as the family watched them sit on the ground pick flowers and play with the dust. Something so simple that made me feel so, existential. It gave me so much, it was great. As I began to realise the potential life this game could give me at around age 9, I began to become serious about baseball. I quickly began to feel like a superstar at the local Little League. “This is great!” I thought. Running circles around everyone, people would come to the field to see MaHall’s team play. As the years grew on, leading my teams to championship games years in a row, it would come crashing down. When I was 11, I was on the Dodgers, we were the best team in the league, and we knew it. Let’s go back in time for a bit. It’s the last inning and we are down by just one. Here I go up to bat with a man on first base. As I walk up to the plate I could hear the catcher say, “oh no.” He knew who I was, as everyone did. “I’ve hit many walk offs and clutch hits before, how was this different?” I remember thinking. Well past Jonnie, here’s how it’s different, it’s the championship game,

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

I click my cleats with my bat and dig a hole in the batter's box and stair at the pitcher. The pitch comes in slow almost in slow motion. I swing as hard as can. I hear the crack of the bat and I see the ball fly over the fence. I can't believe it. I never thought in a million years I would ever hit a homerun. I hear my teammates screaming. I round first, I'm almost at second when the shock wears off and I realize that I just won the game. A huge smile crosses my face as I round third and head for home. I get closer and closer to home. I stomp on home. Then before I know it the lights go out.

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,

Nothing beat the overwhelming emotion of stepping up on the pitcher’s mound and hearing the chant of my name, my heart clawing its way out of my chest. Before throwing the first warmup pitch, my mind raced through the entire season. How, as a team, we have made history winning all three major tournaments in the high school level. We had beaten many top competitors and lost plenty crushing defeats as well. My mind pondered, which situation will I be in today, glorious victory or destructive loss. This is the feeling I lived for during high school, it was my sole purpose. However, this was merely one minute of that fateful day in which I played prodigiously trying to win a baseball game.

For most of my life, I was skilled in organized sports, especially soccer, which I had played for many years. After a successful soccer season my freshman year, I thought that I would make the JV team for sure. At tryouts, I went through the motions of each drill. I breezed through the conditioning tests, doing the bare minimum for each test. I didn’t try as hard as others, as I felt that I was more skillful than most of my peers.

I started the first few weeks wanting to impress the head coach to prove to him I deserved a spot within the starting nine on the varsity level. I practiced hard, never goofed off, and went to the cages with my dad on the weekends. I wanted to make the varsity level to show my family and myself that I could do it and that I was good enough to compete at the varsity high school softball level. When I was younger, I made the team I wanted, I never considered failing to be part of me. The big week came, the teams were posted all seven freshmen had made a team but yet to find which side of the paper their name

I was constantly looked down on, as through the practices, varsity players continuously knock me down and run me over. One varsity player named Jordan Zorbas hit me so hard I felt like a crash test dummy. Later in practices, the varsity roster was taped to the locker-room’s wall. I couldn’t place my name on the list, meaning that I was on the freshman team. I remember thinking,“ Why couldn’t I make it, “ but deep down I knew why. I began practicing with the freshman team at linebacker. September 7th we had our first game against Ida Baker high school. I remember making the first tackle of the game, with me wrapping the running back and stripping the ball from his meaty hands. Although I started the whole game, I was not satisfied with my performance and felt that I should’ve done

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.”

I went up Coach Griffin after that first practice and asked him what I could improve on to be a varsity player. He told me that I was at the skill level required for the team; however, my lack of experience was leading to a noticeable confidence issue. I would just have to work hard on JV that year, he said, and they would possibly pull me up later in the season. I took it to heart, and it was only after that season that I realized how wise he was to put me on JV. That year, I was the captain of the team and one of the best players on the field, and after a few games, I was dressing for

I could hear the players out in the field for red and the players on the bench yelling, encouraging the pitcher. The blue team dugout was very quiet. The pitcher started his delivery and the pitch came in. I took a hack, and just got a piece of it. I’m still alive, I thought. The next pitch came in, again I took a swing, and it was a good one. I watched the ball fly over the

The crowd was roaring like wild animals. Our teams had switched sides to start the second match and everything came into focus then. I could hear individual people cheering in the crowd, the student section was going nuts. The smell of the butter coming from the popcorn at the concession stands suddenly stood out to me. Most importantly, I could feel the yearning and the passion coming from my teammates. We wanted this win–bad. I was one of the leading hitters on the team and it was my job to produce the big hits for the team and motivate them to take everything the other team would hit at us. We started the second game and things were still going well for us! It wasn’t a fluke! We were playing well because we were working hard. If we didn’t hit hard they were going to pound it down, we couldn’t let up. So when our setter set me up and I saw out of the corner of my eye a triple block I knew I had to get it through their hands, but the ball was behind my head. In that split second I made a decision that changed my life forever. I swung away and I felt my shoulder pop and then the worst pain of my life went through my entire arm. I grabbed it right away knowing something was wrong. I’ve never felt pain like this in a game before. In that moment I knew that was the one. Every player knows what it’s like to get hurt. You get sprained ankles and sprained knees all the time, but this was the injury I knew had been coming to me. I looked up at my parents in the crowd and they knew too. Something was wrong.

As the season went on, I had worked on my skills and had begun to have personal success in games. As soon as I know it, I ended up being brought up to varsity to add depth since many of our starters had gotten hurt. Even though I did not get much playing time on varsity, I was still very glad to make the team. I knew that hard work really does pay off.