More handpicked essays just for you.
The History of Baseball Modern baseball has an interesting history
Speech on the history of baseball
History of baseball
Don’t take our word for it - see why 10 million students trust us with their essay needs.
Baseball Dreams
How many times have young boys said, “When I grow up I want to play pro baseball.” I can not count the number of times I have told people that I want to play in the big leagues. Major League baseball players are my heroes and role models, I remember wanting to go to a major league baseball game to see how the pros did it. When I became 14 years old I finally had my chance to see my first major league ball game. Ever since that day I stepped into the ballpark, I knew that I wanted to become a pro baseball player. My family and I decided that we would go to Texas for our vacation that year. My dad did not tell me that he had purchased some Texas Ranger baseball tickets for us. When we arrived at our hotel the first words
when I was ten years old I lost my grandpa, it was a very bad experience for me but it made me stronger. I remember when he taught me how to catch a baseball, ride a bike, mow the lawn and a lot of other things that I will forever cherish in my heart. the memory I will never forget though is when he taught me everything I needed to know about baseball. we would always go outside together and he would do certain agilities with me to build my stamina, teach me how to catch a pop-fly and he would work on pitching with me which is actually one of my main position that I play today. baseball was a big part of my grandpas life and he always wanted me to play In the major leagues. once he passed away my motives for playing in the major leagues increased.
When I went to a Mariners baseball game a while ago I met Felix and he asked me if I played baseball. I said yes. Then he asked me what position I played and I said pitcher. He told me never to give up because when he was little he wanted to go to the MLB. That was when I realized I wanted to play in the MLB.
We went down by the players to try to get an autograph, and I was right next to Charles tillman! The person next to me got his autograph but I got a high five. When I sat back down I felt the cold plastic from the seat. The game started and the sun started to come out. The warm rays shined on my side of the stadium so it got a little warmer.
As a little kid, I think everyone has had a dream or goal to become a professional ball player or celebrity. The reason kids set these goals, because it is considered cool to be a professional ball player or celebrity. Also, those careers pay a lot of money for the things people love to do: play. For some, they do not care what it will take for them to achieve those goals and dreams. My dream was to become a professional baseball player, but I needed to focus on my education more.
This is what I had been hoping for the entire year. I had been to many that were quite the same to this one, but none that could give me the same enduring edginess and serenity that I was feeling right now. My eyes skimmed across the hundreds of people who were all there for the same reason as me. Striving to be out of the sweltering sun, but not out of clear view of what I came for, I lead myself in a mighty search for the spot for which I belonged. As I sat down, I prepared myself for the pain that I was going to feel about an hour later. I always forgot how sore I would get from sitting on the bleachers for so long, but every time I approached them, I would remember and smile.
My story and experience takes places long time ago, but to me it feels just like yesterday. I remember it so clearly, it was Saturday June 10, 2006. I got tickets for the game from my actual father, but he could not attend the game, thus giving me the tickets to my first Red Sox game at Fenway Park. The Red Sox that day were schedule to play the Texas Rangers in a day-night doubleheader. The minute I got tickets, I went and checked the weather for that day. Rain, yes it was schedule to rain on the day of my first Red Sox game, the game was already reschedule game from a rain-out from a month earlier.
When the notion of baseball comes to mind, a feeling of nostalgia and tradition come to me. Many of my feelings and memories originate from my childhood. I remember a beautiful summer day. My dad and I arrived at the baseball stadium to watch the game. We walked up the concrete walkway inside the stadium. The concrete walls and floors made my surroundings drab and grey. Finally, we made it to entrance into the stadium. I came out of the dark tunnels into the bright sunlight. The first thing to catch my eye was the vivid rush of color. Underneath the fluffy white clouds and their deep blue canvas, I could look down and see players in vibrant red and blue uniforms warming up for the game. The well-watered grass on the field was a brighter green than any other grass I had seen. The outfield seemed to be so perfect. It appeared that each blade had been cut by hand. The edge of the infield, where the dark, watered-down dirt met the intensely green grass was a precise and well-defined contrast. We sat down and I took in my surroundings. There were men walking up and down the stairs selling various concessions. They had peanuts, beer, soda, ice cream, popcorn, and many other tempting treats. The players soon finished their warm-ups and the crowd became frenzied with excitement. The game was about to start.
The first team I ever played for was Tobers Party Store. For some kids growing up, baseball was just another way to pass time during the summer, away from the grind of public school. For me it was everything. From the moment my eyes snapped open in the morning, until the time I slipped away to sleep, I had baseball on my mind. I loved to play baseball, watch baseball, and talk baseball. Nothing else mattered. Eating and sleeping were just "necessary evils" that took precious time away from my hobby. I anxiously awaited the day when I would be drafted into the professional ranks after a successful college career. Bubbling with excitement, I would explain my inevitable career path to anyone who would listen. Of course, the responses were less than empowering. "Do you know how good you have to be?", and the tried and true " Go to college and get a real job", were two of the more popular sentiments that the "opposition" hurled at me. Naturally, in my 10 year old mind, I knew they were delusional and I would prove them wrong.
I have been playing baseball as long as I can remember. My dream ever since I was little was to win a State Championship in high school. Baseball is the only sport that I could literally play every day and not get tired of it. I told myself that I would never give up my dream of playing baseball as long as I live.
The announcer began announcing our team to start the introduction for the game. Since I was the lead-off batter, my name was echoed over the park first. It was at this time that the feeling elevated; the feeling that makes every baseball field so special. As my teammates yelled for me, while I ran to the nearest baseline and faced the crowd, the feeling gave me goose bumps and raised the hairs on the back of my neck. The feeling is so amazing that it will keep me playing baseball for as long as possible because it makes my love for the sport that much more. I can't even begin to explain the complex feeling I get when I walk on a baseball field, but that feeling will always be cherished and hopefully when I pass on my love of baseball to others, they will too understand what that special diamond makes me feel like.
The american dream is defined as the ideal that every US citizen should have an equal opportunity to achieve success and prosperity through hard work, determination, and initiative. In baseball, the same ideals can be seen. While it has its flaws, baseball gives every player an equal chance to be successful within the game. It would be impossible to look at this great game, without thinking about the american dream.
With seconds to spare I arrived at batting practice and began to prepare for my game. I hear coach call out my name and as I he acknowledged that I was there he told me I was pitching. My brain shifted and went into a whole new mode, I was more focused and more determined than I have ever been. This was the biggest baseball game of my career and I 'm starting on the mound. Honestly it couldn 't have turned out any better, the fate of the pin and my team lied in my hands and I loved the pressure. The pressure made me thrive and before I knew it our team was marching onto the field for the national anthem. During the singing of the national anthem I peeked into the crowd and first row down the first base side was the little boy I met on the cart and his dad sitting right next to him. This game was for that little boy, I needed to impress him. I pitched six strong innings and my team ended up winning the game. It was the most exciting game of my career and the best part was being greeted with the best pin in the tournament after such a spectacular win. The little boy ran out into the middle of the field where we shook our opponents hands and in front of everyone in the stadium handed me the only thing I cared about besides winning. I was in the best mood for the rest of the day and I rewarded myself with a nice long sleep. I could only image what the next day had to
An experience I had that has changed who I was the chance to prove myself as a capable player for my baseball team. Playing baseball with my high school team was a wonderful experience that I wish I could go through again. It really changed me as a junior and senior.
From the time I first saw the game of baseball I fell in love. Even the first word I ever said was “ball”. I have baby pictures in my baseball uniform and whenever a baseball game would be on TV, I would act like I was playing there with them. So at an early age I knew I wanted to play baseball. Luckily, my dad was also very big into baseball and helped me almost every day. Some of my best memories came when we would practice baseball in the front yard, or even go to the local (missing word) and take batting practice.
When I turned six years old I was old enough to play on a Little League team, and my father volunteered to be the coach. He worked long hours but always found enough time to dedicate to the team. At first our team was not very good, but that would soon change. My father practiced us hard every week and by the end of the season we made the playoffs. Even though we did not win the Championship that year, our team had reason to be proud. We won a few games, and we had a lot of fun, thanks to my dad. I played baseball for a total of ten years, and he was my coach for at least half of them.