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“Batter up in the 6th inning bases loaded 1 out.” The batter is name Justuce Haywood, and he has had a pretty good season so far. “It is a 1-1 count and here comes the pitch, AND THAT THING IS HIT REALLY GOOD DOWN THE LEFT FIELD LINE, HERE COMES ONE RUN IN, AND THERE IS THE SECOND, HAYWOOD ROUNDING 2ND AND THE LEFT FIELDER STILL HAS NOT GOTTEN THE BALL, THE THIRD RUN IS IN AND THEY ARE WAVING HAYWOOD HOME AND HE IS RUNNING AND HE SLIDES AND HE IS IN THERE, A GRAND SLAM HAS BEEN HIT.” That was the first grand slam in buena park little league history. Hi im Justuce and i’m going to tell you my story. Latter that game my best friend Justin Potapia hit one too when I was on second. So in my early years I played T ball then I went to little league …show more content…
I’m going to fast forward to 5th grade and 6th grade. Those were the worst school years of my life and they were because of my teacher. Mrs Sue, if you’re reading this screw you. She hated me with a passion, and I don’t know why. The only reasons I could think of was that my handwriting is not good and that my dad and I work with reptiles. She was horrible to me and almost made me miss many 6th grade events. After a horrible 5th grade year my dad came home and said I know who your teacher will be next year and then he said “Sue,” and I yelled “GOD DAMN IT.” So 6th grade rolled around and I walked in mad and left happy because I didn't have to see her for the rest of the day. At one point of the year she asked the class “ Since i'm so horrible then raise your hand if you want to leave this class and I will go get you switched out of it right now?, and my hand hit my desk loud since they were the ones with the hole in it, but I didn't raise it all the way and I was in there again. Then later that year there was a field trip to go to boomers and we all were going to go, but somehow some way she had to find a way to try and not let me go. So she used one of the kids ,Gabriel Aguilar, I knew to make up a story that made it where I called her a “dick” and she made a giant commotion about it and all my friends that I had knew I didn't say it, and at the time I apparently “said it” the kid NEXT …show more content…
and he saw me and found a bunch of pain in my heel so he took x-rays and it came up as the growth plate in my heel had cracked on the back of my heel. So he told me that I had to take it easy for 2 weeks and it should be good. So 2 weeks pass by and then nothing happened so I had 3 weeks now. After the 3 weeks he said he will give me 2 more and if it doesn't heal then it will be a cast. So guess what happened the next day of school 3 weeks later? You're right I got a cast for 2 months. Even with a cast nothing worked, so when I went back to get the cast off he told me that if it doesn't heal I will be put into a cast up to my knee, to make it work. 2 weeks later It was getting better. That was the last Dr. Appointment I had for that year because I didn't make the next one. Plus I didn't need anymore notes because the school year was ending so I just waited it out. During 7th grade I met this really cool sketchy teacher named Mr. Martinez. He was my english teacher for half of a year because I got switched into his class at the beginning of the 2nd semester. He was a great person and teacher. He had been threw alot and he wasn't hard or wasn't strict. He turned into a friend of mine and I had him 3 times in 2 years and each year I got an A. Then in 8th grade I did football again but I didn't make the team that time. Then during the time there were no sports I got hurt
So, now you’ve seen Ms. Taylor’s true colors. Hopefully by hearing this a good amount of you are scared of being able to image my experiences with her, and you should be. She only comes once in a generation as a teacher willing to make it a living hell on your appearance, presence, and piles of classwork. She has gone the extra mile of assigning us 40 assignments for her absences, shaving my head, and even giving me a ridiculous nickname. Sadly, now you will all have to deal with this in the near future too. But now the question lies, how will you
It was a sad day nothing could make me happy anymore. I had been sad from the first moment I read the paper. I kept reading the list I must have read it at least ten times. Over and over again kept seeing the same names. None of the names were mine. I had finally realized I did not make the team. I was heartbroken all I have ever wanted just slipped out of my grasp. “It’s ok you’ll make it next year”, said my friend Warren. But what he couldn’t understand was that I wanted it to happen that year. I wanted to make the basketball team that year.
It was the seventh and final inning of the District Championship game in Rancho Cucamonga. We, meaning Glendora, were down eleven to eight in the bottom of the inning against Chino Hills. Bottom of the lineup, Alicia goes up to bat, swings at the first pitch, and hits a weak ball to the pitcher.
6th grade is the year we got a new PE teacher. She was nice for the first couple of weeks and then she started to teach us to dance to the Electric slide and the Makerana. She got angry with us because we knew that dancing
In fifth grade, I had a teacher by the name of Mrs. Sera. Even typing her name gives me this cold feeling inside; she eerily resembles Miss Viola Swamp from the children’s book Miss Nelson is Missing. Viola Swamp was “the meanest substitute teacher in the whole world.” Mrs. Sera, on the other hand, my full-time educator and seemingly just as mean. She had a long pointy chin, a fairly large nose, and extremely thin lips that rarely ever smiled just like Miss Swamp. During this year leading up to middle school, I struggled in every subject: math, science, social studies, and language arts. The only parts of the day I succeeded in were recess and lunch. I remember one day, I had a test in science. I received a 23%. This is still the lowest grade
As I layed in my bed on a cold and windy Friday night, i could hear the roar from Fenway park across the street. The Red Sox had a game tonight against their long time rival the New York Yankees. Their games would always be so thrilling and so exciting to be at, i was a young 15 year old boy who like everyone else wanted to be a MLB baseball player. I had always dreamed about playing on that beautiful and playing against those Yankees. Living in Boston mostly everyone here absolutely hates the yankees. I was having a hard time going to bed so i looked outside and was looking at all the people outside walking outside the Ballpark.
Sports play a very important role in my life ever since I could walk. My interests in playing sports began at the age of three as my parents signed me up for soccer, flag football, basketball, and lacrosse. First grade started my competitive edge as I began to play for travel teams in various sport tournaments. This competitive edge transferred from the sports field to the classroom having teachers and coaches helping me be the best I can be. Sports have continually well-shaped and defined my character by teaching me how to accept a win from working hard, also how a loss is an opportunity to learn and fix mistakes.
I was a typical 6th grader with a love for social time and hatred towards pointless homework. As I was tapping my foot on my creaking wooden desk with my book opened pretending to read, Mr. Daniels was watching over me like a bird that just gave birth to chicken eggs. I had a feeling she was going to ask me a question about what I was reading. I realized from that point on to always trust my instincts. Mrs. Daniels tall toothpick shaped body leaned over and asked me to summarize the first chapter in front of the whole class. Due to not even beginning to read the first page I told her I did not even know where to begin. Since I was not prepared for class, not participating, and being rude about my task at hand I received a punishment. My punishment was every week I had to write a summary in my own words about the chapter I had read. My eyes rolled in the back of my head so far I didn't know if they would ever go back to normal. I knew my life was over at this
It was the summer of 93, I just got on my high school baseball team I was probably the worst baseball player to ever play the game. Nobody didn’t believe that I was going to get off the bench and play even my parents. But there was one person who believed in me 100% which was my coach Mr.chavez. He had coach MLB players and won at least 5 state championships doing so. But I wasn’t sure why he accepted me on his team, even though there were more talented baseball players than me.
A defining moment in my life was when I decided that I wanted to be an athletic trainer when I grow up. I knew I wanted to be athletic trainer because I want to stay in the athletic field once I finish my athletic career. For me there is no better job than one that I can interact with athletes on a daily basis and help them prevent injuries. Knowing my career path early helped me lay out my academic goals, this also brought up some challenges.
I was in 7th grade and my science teacher was overly critical of me. Borderline disrespectful and clearly she had prejudices to light skin African Americans. The entire class drew projects. I was so excited to do my project because I loved doing projects with my grandmother. My project was the solar system. So my grandma went all out! We went shopping for all the materials I would need. I must say that my model replica of the solar system was amazing. We worked on that for weeks. Finally it was my turn to present, I did an awesome job. But I received a low C. I was so upset. The comments were my replica was too nice, and it was clear it wasn’t work of a 7th grader. Some students turned in drawings stick figures on paper and got an A. That night I cried my eyes out. My grandmother told me that people wont like you because you are light skin. She told me some people will treat me like gold and some will spit on me like dirt. From that day I left my work speak for
I started cutting classes and hanging out with the wrong crowd. I was behind in all my classes my freshman year. Mrs. Lippold changed my perspective on life, she was my photography teacher as well as my friend. This woman improved me during my sophomore year. She had told me how she seen my file as she does with all her students to try to get to know them a little better and noted how I missed consequently numerous days of school. She told me that was going to change and this year would be different. I remember after class she took me with her to my counselor’s office and demanded my schedule be changed. She made him take out my lunch period and replace it with zero period, so that meant I started school at 7:30 in the morning and would leave
In a baseball game, the bat hits the ball. I’ve never heard of the bat hitting a 5 year old’s head. How does something like that happen? Never will I ever again play with a bunch of boys. Especially if there swinging a baseball bat around in circles.
Ever since I was a little boy, about eight years old or so, I had an extreme passion for the sport of basketball. On weekends, I would wake up in the morning, eat a bowl of frosted flakes or cheerios, put on basketball shorts and then go in my driveway to shoot around. I would be out there for hours just shooting around or playing with some random kids that I would occasionally see walking around my neighborhood. This was satisfaction to me, but even better was playing on multiple public teams and not just playing in my driveway every day. In elementary school, I played in a recreational league, just like almost every other kid who tries out basketball when they were younger. This was fun and all but it was nothing too serious. There were never any practices, it was just one or two unorganized games per week. I never took
“Oh shoot…… That was too close. I literally almost died. Let’s just take a break and play basketball.” That is what I ended up saying to myself just yesterday. “I literally almost died” isn’t something you say to yourself everyday.