The State Softball Tournament: A Short Story

About three weeks ago, the Packer Varsity baseball team beat Berkeley Carroll school for the first time in twelve years and in glorious fashion. Tears streamed down my face as our winning run crossed the plate in extra innings, dust flying up as my teammates and I mobbed each other at the plate. Yet a few short days later, our team was blindsided by the news that St. Ann’s had pulled off back to back upsets to squeak their way into the playoffs ahead of us - just as our season seemed to be looking up, it was over.

Softball isn’t all smiles and winning. Sometimes things could almost get sweet. For instance, we were the first team to ever beat Gladstone. I remember it was the second game of the season and we were playing at the dome. I remember Zeke punching the air, “Hell yeah! That’s what I want to see!” and telling us we didn’t have to clean up the equipment because we had won. We went home on a high, so incredibly proud to be on that team.

Softball is a growing sport for girls within the United States. Whether you are an 8-year-old girl, to a senior in college softball, it’s a sport that many are attached too. A new form of hitting came into play during the 2005 Women’s College Series. Slap hitting is a new form of hitting that changed the way the game of fast-pitch softball is being played. Slapping changed the way coaches and players think about how they are going to field a slap hitter. This form of hitting is becoming a major role within fast-pitch softball. When I got the opportunity to learn how to slap hit I was excited to gain this ability. With practice, patience and determination, I began to learn the hitting style that I use today.

Softball is a sport that is known throughout the United States and the world. Softball originated on Thanksgiving Day in Chicago in 1887. The game was actually said to have begun as an indoor game. Softball was started by a group of men who had gathered at a club to watch the Harvard vs. Yale football game. When the news came that Yale had defeated Harvard, 17-8, one Yale supporter, overcome with enthusiasm, picked up an old boxing glove and threw it at a nearby Harvard alumni, who promptly tried to hit it back with a stick. This gave George Hancock, a reporter for the Chicago Board of Trade, an idea. He suggested a game of indoor baseball. Naturally, Hancock's friends thought he was talking about playing a game outdoors, not indoors.

This paper is going to be over the topic of softball. The history of softball, how it has changed over the years as well as the creation and invention.

The day of my last softball game was the most terrifying day of my life. I have been playing softball for my whole life, Usually your last game is bittersweet and sad, mine was the complete opposite.One reason why the day of last softball game was absolutely horrid, was because it was the championship game and the whole game the score was back and forth, neither team could keep the lead.Another reason the day of my last softball game was extremly scary is because my dad who is the coach, randomly disappeared as well as my mother. The assistant coach came up in between innings and told the team that he would be taking over because my dad did not feel well. Next thing i noticed both my parents were gone, and i heard the fire truck and ambulance

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,

Before we told our daughters that they could be anyone, or anything they wanted to be, we told them that they could only be what was acceptable for women to be, and that they could only do things that were considered "ladylike." It was at this time, when the nation was frenzied with the business of war, that the women of the All-American Girls Professional Baseball League decided that they could do and be whatever it was that they chose. These women broke free of the limitations that their family and society had set for them, and publicly broke into what had been an exclusively male sport up until that time.

I remember that day as if it was like yesterday, it was a warm day, the sun shining, and it was the perfect weather for us to play in. The important day for the Iowa-Grant Panther Softball 5th and 6th grade team, it was our championship game.

SHREVEPORT, La. – The Ladies softball team picked up their first win of the season, 4-2, in game one of the doubleheader, but five errors led to four unearned runs by the Wildcats in a 5-1 loss in game two between Centenary (1-5) and Louisiana College (3-1) Tuesday night, February 7.

When I was playing travel softball for Angels Fastpitch in my second year of ten and under softball, this memoir began. My coach would not play me much because he said I was not good enough, he said I could not catch. He said many other things all were horrible. The emotions that came

Hard work never goes un-noticed, and although I did improve, I had acquired the label of ‘outfielder’. The position that wasn’t home to me, but I was forced to recognize as my spot on the field. My first year of Varsity softball arrived and I made it clear infield is where I wanted to be, but my coach’s confidence in me continued to lack to match the level of mine, along with the fact the returning third basemen was a veteran. And the outfield is where I was sent, yet again.

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

“Not everyone is going to see or accept you for who you are, and you have to accept that.” I was told this quote everyday by my mother. Today was no different, walking up to the raked field, quote on my mind , eyes on the fresh red clay, and the sound of my metal cleats against the concrete. I was ready for this day. After months of hard work from November to February , the tryouts for Central softball team were over. Over the span of four months, I pushed myself harder than I ever thought I could, but what I did never seemed to be enough for the team.

The sun drifted slowly over the horizon bringing a new day. I could smell the fresh air and saw the dew droplets on each flake of grass as I strolled by them. It was another new day perfectly designed by our creator. It was a Saturday morning in the middle of summer, and just like every other weekend in the summer, I was playing the game I loved. Softball has always been my favorite sport, and one of the things that takes up a lot of my time, especially in the summer. It was just another weekend, the same as countless before it and many