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I encountered a “bump in the road” at a young age. I began playing softball at age six when Kylie, my elementary school friend, came to show and tell with her first place T-ball trophy. At the time, I had only played soccer, but the thought of swinging a bat as hard as I could and having people in the stands cheer for me, inspired me to ask my mother to register me for the local recreational league. Before I knew it, I was lacing up last year’s soccer cleats and stepping up to bat in my first coach-pitch softball game. My father, being the coach, stood on the mound and lobbed in the fattest meatball every hitter dreams of. With the ding of my second-hand garage sale bat, the ball sailed over the shortstop. Some may have called it beginner's luck, but I called it a sign. After playing three years in the recreational league, I naively believed that my stud-like skills were needed for bigger and better things. Unfortunately, no one told me that I would be the shortest girl at the travel team tryout, by at least 5 inches. Needless to say, I did not make the cut; however, that did not stop me from trying out again, and again, and again. I could not wrap my 11-year-old mind around why I was not qualified to earn a spot on the team. I was the go-to-girl in the recreational league. Heck, I was voted MVP every year. Thankfully, there …show more content…
were enough of us “left-overs” to create the Plantation Pressure 10U “B” team. I was still able to play travel ball, just not with the team I had wanted. We were a swell bunch of ladies on the B team. As a team, we were the Bad News Bears with ponytails. I despised everything about that team, I assumed I was better than everyone else and I deserved to play on a better team. Instead of working harder to improve my game, I became dejected, a poor teammate and started hating the sport. I probably would have quit if my dad didn’t set me straight. He flat-out told me that I wasn’t talented enough to make the best team. He told me I lacked skill and motivation. Hearing my father’s rather blunt assessment of my game made me furious. I became sufficiently motivated. I begged for batting lessons and help with my defensive work, just so I could prove him wrong. Looking back, I guess he knew what he was doing. The work soon paid off. The following year, I did earn a spot on the 12U “A” team, my dream team, or so I thought.
I soon discovered that the girls on the “A” team were a close-knit group and were not exactly thrilled that a player from the “B” team was now playing with them. I had already learned that hard work leads to success, so I made it my business to win their respect. I went from riding the bench to becoming a starter. One of my coaches had a saying that still sticks with me. “Success breeds success” he used to tell us. He was right! My game became like a snowball rolling down a hill. The girls who had ignored me soon became my teammates in the truest
sense. My success in softball has mushroomed. I now play on an 18U “Gold” team and have the opportunity to play in tournaments all over the United States and Canada. I overcame my obstacle for two reasons: First, my father was honest with me. My skills were lacking and he was not afraid to tell me so. Second, I put it the effort and learned that hard work pays off. I believe so strongly in the lessons learned from sports that I became a recreational softball coach last year. I love the time I spend with my 10 year old players, it is my opportunity to give back to the sport that taught me so much.
I love baseball. I love to play baseball and read baseball comics. I have read a lot of Japanese baseball comics, and almost all Japanese baseball comics’ heroes were fastball pitchers. This comic’s hero was a typical typed pitcher in Japanese baseball comics. He could throw the fastest fastball in his team, and became the ace pitcher of his team when he was a freshman.
It was the beginning of a new softball season, and I couldn't wait to get out there with my team. At our first practice I remember feeling back at home on the field. Just when I thought this was going to be our teams best season, my parents moved me to a private school. Leaving what I was familiar with was not an easy task, and deciding if I would continue my passion of softball with a different team was even more difficult.
My senior year of baseball was quickly coming to an end. I knew the only games we had left were the playoff games. It was the first round of the state playoffs. We were the fourth seed, so we had to play a number one seed. I knew it was going to put our team to the test, but I knew we had a chance to beat them. We had a good last practice before game day, and I felt confident in my team and felt like we were ready for the game.
I had played softball in P.E. enough to know the basics…or so I thought. I stood there leaning against my bat listening to Coach McGownd talk. As he talked I began absorbing everything he said. Gone were the days of simply stepping up to the plate to hit. Now, each at bat had a purpose and guidelines to follow in order to maximize the batters chance of successfully hitting the ball. There was so much information—proper stance, proper mechanics, how to set up in the batters box based on what you wanted to do (i.e. bunt, pull the ball, hit opposite, slap hit), and so much more. When Coach McGownd finished giving us our instructions, we shuffled off to our assigned station and began doing our assigned drills. I happily watched as the older, more experienced players took their swings. The sweet pinging of the metal bats against the balls and laughter blanketed the field. I patiently waited as the older players took their turns. When my turn came I picked up my bat, stepped up to the tee and followed along as my brain got its clipboard out and started checking off each step I had just learned. I took my swing and was awarded with a nice popping sound as I made contact with the ball. I knew then, that this sound of the bat making contact with a ball would become one of my favorite sounds. I continued to rotate through the drills enjoying the repetitiveness of the task. Time passed by quickly as I got lost in the
As most children did, I had the choice to play whatever sport I wanted. Considering my height, 5’10, most would assume that I played either basketball or volleyball. No one expected me to play tennis, and was surprised when I said that I did. During my elementary years, I played softball for seven years, and when I hit eighth grade, I decided to play tennis. My decision came about because of my sister. I had always followed closely in her footsteps because I looked up to her a lot, so when I saw she was playing; I wanted to try it out too. I had never really thought about what it would be like to play tennis. I didn’t hate it, or really know what it would be like to play it. And little did I know that playing would demand so much time, energy, and effort.
As a kid, I was born and raised to love the great game of baseball. Many young kids have had dreams to become professional athletes, and achieve prestigious awards/ titles. Like many kids I’ve always dreamed of becoming a professional baseball player. As a younger kid with my head in the clouds, I never really knew what it was like to put my actual blood, sweat, and tears into something I loved, until my worst season I had ever played. This whole story starts in the beginning of my ninth grade baseball season. It started out different from every other year because, of course I was a freshman. This was the first year I had ever practiced with the varsity squad, it was much more difficult, but I still figured I was going to do great. After weeks
I want to be a high school varsity baseball coach and later move on to college or the major leagues. Not only do I just want to be a coach, but I want to be one of the best coaches that ever coached a game of baseball. In order to do that I’m going to have to have courage, dignity within myself, and also be honest with myself in order for the players to be comfortable playing on my team. Growing up as a kid I always had a strong love for baseball and as I grew older I received a brotherhood from baseball, a place of peace, and also a comfort stage that helped me perform in front of people. My main goal as a coach is to reach out to the kids and minister to them. I wish to show them an alternative route from selling drugs and robbing.
I have been playing softball since the age of six. From the time I could walk, my dad had me out in our yard teaching me how to swing a bat and throw a ball. Growing up, softball is all I have known. Both of my parents played softball and baseball growing up and in college. They both have taught me everything they know about the sport. Softball has taught me more than the physical aspect of the game. In softball a player can strike out seven out of ten times and still be considered a good hitter. Everyone has rough days, but I have realized that I just need to come back the next day and work harder. My parents have showed me that working hard at it will help me succeed. Whenever I have a bad game, instead of getting down, I take it as motivation to try harder the next time.
Baseball was my life for fifteen years; learning values and tracing favorite memories back to my baseball journey make me grateful for these experiences. However, after a year of playing baseball in college while battling an injury, I decided to alter my goals; ultimately choosing to leave baseball behind. Finishing out the school year and anticipating what I might expect in the future left me feeling lighter; I believed I made the right choice. While on summer break, reflecting on my decision and thinking about my next journey, I became uncomfortable: I was no longer athletically active; I was no longer dedicated to a team, and I did not anticipate the search to find myself would leave me feeling uneasy. My fresh start began by transferring
As two of the most difficult sports, softball and baseball are often misunderstood for each other, although, their similarities make mistaking the sports easy to do. Through the differences in regulations, pitching, and offense, fastpitch softball is proven to be more difficult than baseball, even though the sports are quite comparable. Now when baseball players believe that their sport is more demanding, they can be proven
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.
Growing up, I have always had a passion for baseball. To me, it is much more than just a sport. There have been times when it has acted as an escape from many problems in my life, as I feel that when I am on the diamond, nothing can hurt me. I am aware that many people feel this way about the sport they love, but sadly their careers often come to an abrupt end due to injury. I have a personal connection to this experience. The summer before my fourth grade year I was attending a basketball camp at Davidson College, when in the final seconds of a scrimmage game, my ankle was kicked out from under me. I immediately fell to the ground in pain as my ankle rolled over on itself. Coaches aided me in limping off of the court and to the training room
One day I was at a kids baseball game, and this kid didn't know how to swing, throw, or catch. It was 45 minutes before the game and i saw him warming up. And I thought in my head, this kid needs some help. So I walked over to him and I told him “hey man what's up”, he said “hey”. I told him “it looks like your struggling a little bit at a few things.” he said “what”, I told him “you look like you like baseball, I was just going to give you a few tips.”
It was a hot Saturday morning in April and it was turning into a perfect day for baseball. I was hitting lead off for our team, which means first in the batting order. I was the first one to see this pitcher and most of the time the leadoff man can set the tone of the game with his at bat. We had all watched the pitcher warm up, like we always do, and felt like he was “hittable.” The pitcher began his motion and threw the first pitch. It flew by me and popped the catcher’s glove as I thought “Dang, this guy is throwing gas.” “Strike one!” yelled the Umpire. The pitcher was throwing a little bit faster than I had expected, and I was not prepared on the first pitch to hit what he was throwing. At that moment, I thought about my morning prior
Most people do not discover their passion when they are only four years old but I did. When I was four I played Baseball and I really liked it. I knew that it is the sport I wanted to play for a long time. When I am playing baseball it helps me get away from regular life. I forget about the hours of homework that I have to do, How bored I was today during school, and all the other craziness in my life because during that game all I care about is baseball. It helps me get away from all the negatives in life.