Baseball
Baseball has always been an important part of my life. When I was little, I used to play wiffle ball
in the backyard with my neighbors. We
would spend hours every summer afternoon playing a continuous, sandlot-style
game. Those days never seemed to end,
the sun only setting to allow for games like flashlight tag to take place in
the neighborhood. At that time, baseball
was something we used just to pass the time.
However, as I grew up, the sport took on a whole new meaning to me.
When I was eight years old, I started playing little
league. Looking back, those were some of
the most enjoyable games of them all. Every
season, we would compete against other teams in our league. The competition that took place on that little
league field was incredible, and to this day I still remember those days as
some of the best of my life. The smell
of hot dogs, dirt, and summer air filled those carefree days of playing the
sport I love.
At the end of every little league season, the coaches of all
the teams would get together and vote on what kids would make the all-star
team. Every year, I looked forward to
the intense competition of all-star season.
During the season, we would travel around to various towns and play
teams that were in our “district”. The
winner of the district would then advance to the state tournament. One year, when I was eleven years old, we won
our district. To this day, that district
championship game is the one that I most fondly remember. In those days we only played six inning
games. Going into the top of the 6th,
we were down 16-4. It seemed that we had
lost the game, having to overcome a huge deficit in order to win the game. However, we began to rally that inning, and
thanks to some great hitting, we pulled ahead to lead 18-16 before they turned
a double play and ended the inning. We
were the away team, so we had to play the field one last time. We took the field knowing that if we made
those last three outs, we were bound for the state tournament. We got three quick outs and ended the
game. We advanced to the state
tournament, where we lost in the first round.
Despite losing, we had a great time playing the sport we love.
When I reached middle school, baseball became serious. I joined a travel team, and we played
together for several years. We had a
great time traveling around to different tournaments, where we got a chance to
play teams from other areas. Going into
my seventh grade year, I was looking forward to my future in baseball.
When spring rolled around that year, the time came for middle
school baseball tryouts. There were many of us trying out, and we knew that not
all of us were going to make the team. However,
I wasn’t quite prepared when I got the news that I hadn’t made the team. This marked the first time in my life where I
had truly failed at a major goal. I was
frustrated and discouraged, but soon that frustration turned to motivation. I dedicated all of that summer to working on
my baseball skills, with a fire and intensity that I had never had before. I promised myself that I would never feel
that kind of failure again, no matter what it took.
When tryouts came around the next year, I was more prepared
than ever. I made the team, and
continued to work hard throughout the season.
Unfortunately, an elbow injury kept me out for a majority of the year,
but I didn’t let it discourage me. I
worked hard again the next offseason, and am now beginning my first season with
the high school JV team. Going forward,
my goal is to play varsity baseball, and I will continue to work hard to reach
that goal. I will never forget that
seventh grade year, and will never forget what I learned: No matter what, never give up.
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