Personal Narrative Essay: Growing Up Playing Sports

“That mental toughness that you talk about translates into competitiveness” -Tom Brady. I was 11 years old and it was the year 2013. I was put in a spot that kids dream of growing up playing sports. It was mid July in my first little league season, and it was a pitch black night, but the lights lit up the field like day. In most spots. This moment is one of my most memorable moments and it showed my competitiveness.
This game was going to be the most important game of the season. We had a fairly easy time in districts and staged a comeback every game to roll through the tournament. Whoever won this game would go on to play in the championship game. The opponent was De Soto and they were double the size of us, stronger than all of us, and the

Since little league had a rule where you could throw only a certain amount of pitches; we had to pitch someone who wasn’t a primary pitcher. But that also meant we would have one of our best pitchers for the championship game, if we ended up winning. Before the game our coach, Randy, told us, “everybody knows they are bigger and stronger than us, but if you really want it we can win this thing.”
The sun was setting and the first pitch was about to be thrown. We were the home team, so we went out to field first. The first inning there were some jitters in everyone's body, but they were soon gone after the first inning. De Soto would strike first with a run in the second inning. My first at bat against their pitcher was very nerve wracking. He was about 6 foot tall and the was the fastest pitcher I had ever faced. I took a couple pitches to see the ball and get my timing. The third pitch was inside and jammed me,

That meant to always be focused and be ready for anything on every play. It was the end of the top of the 6th and we had held them. It was all tied up and I was on deck. I also noticed it was the same pitcher from the first inning. The lead-off hitter for that inning drew a walk, the pitcher was getting tired. Walking up to the plate it felt like time had slowed down and I was locked in on this moment. When I dug my feet in the box I wasn’t really thinking of anything. My mind was blank and I saw the lights shine on the field and the darkness in the outfield. He lifted his leg and and I was in perfect rhythm. He threw his best fastball inside and I reacted to it. When the ball hit the bat it felt like I hit nothing. I squared the ball up perfectly and I watched it fly over the right fielder's head. Everything was moving in slow motion, until I got halfway down the line and everything came back to normal. Wyatt, who was on first from the walk, was watching the ball and not moving. I started to shout, “RUN WYATT!” “GO, GO, GO,” I shouted at him. He took off and the ball had already disappeared into the darkness of the outfield. Wyatt wasn’t the fastest runner, but he ran like a race horse this time. I watched him round second, then third and I heard the crowd screaming and yelling. My heart was racing at least 1000mph. I had the biggest smile on my face sprinting around the bases. The outfielder got the ball in, but it was