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Baseball history report
Baseball history report
Baseball history report
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It was a hot summer day. I was up to bat, I grabbed my bat and walked to the batter’s box. The pitcher stared me down and I stared him down. It was 2 outs. I watched the white ball leave his hands. It was almost in slow-mo (almost as slow mo as I am making this story). I swung my bat forcefully, it was high, fast, and foul. The second pitch came I hit this it was right next to the white fair line. I dropped the bat in amazement. I shot for first I touched the square bag with ease. They got the ball to first when I was second. Now I started to pick up speed. This time I hit second with more force than ease. Right after I hit the bag the ball was at second base. Now it was a run for my money, I ran as fast as I could. I hit third as hard as I could. They got the ball to third right as I got off now home was the only base left. …show more content…
With the hot beams of the sun beating on me and this made it harder.
Now this was not just a game, it felt like I needed to get home to survive. If I make it to home I get my first home run of the season. The catcher is screaming, “Throw me the ball”. I was staring at home and I now was in my own world me, the ball, and the base. My cleats dug into the ground. I now was in a mad dash for home base. I am not even two feet from the base. The ball is in the air, heading straight for the catcher. My heart is racing as fast as my feet. I am one foot away and then a half a foot away. The ball is now a half a foot away from the catcher. My foot lifts up to touch the base. At the same time the ball is right at the catcher. At the moment I touch the base, the ball sails over the catcher's head. And that was how I hit a homerun. Will that happen again? I
hope. By: Samuel R. Bahr
It was our last game of pool play on the second day of the tournament, and the other team’s pitcher was a friend of mine so I was excited to go against her. It had been a long day so I wasn’t in the field, but my coach left me in the batting line up. A few innings in it was my turn to bat, so I jogged out on the field, calm and confident that I would do well. After a few pitches I ended up with two strikes on me and I was getting nervous about the outcome of my at bat. The next pitch came and I made solid contact, so on instinct I started my sprint towards first base.
I felt as though I was watching a train barrelling towards me, an inevitable bullet that had come tumbling out of the opposing pitcher’s arm. But instead I stood immobilized, watching my team's only chance of winning whiz by me. Strike three. I heard my team from behind me shouting “SWING!” with my mind screaming the same. But my bat remained unmoving, the pop of the catcher's glove like the nail into the coffin that was our defeat. All I had to do to keep our hopes of winning hope alive was swing, and yet I couldn't. I stayed on the field afterwards, tossing the ball up in the air and swinging away, landing it on the thick maple barrel of the bat.
Standing in the batter box, anxious. Looking forward I see the pitching machine signaling green. First ball comes almost nailing me in the thighs, but lucky enough I was able to get out quickly. I wasn’t ready for such a fastball. I just kept my cool and kept swinging. And that was when I heard “CLANG!”, my first ball hit went straight back at the pitching machine.
During the late nineteenth and early twentieth century, Major League Baseball, much like the majority of other American institutions, was racially segregated. A color barrier was implemented during baseball’s infancy in order to separate people of different race to cater to the white American players. The color barrier was an unofficial “rule” that hindered those with dark skin from playing baseball for Major League teams. The color barrier was enforced by preventing any teams with a colored player from competing at the professional level. Many team owners, umpires, and players justified their opposition to allowing blacks to play by declaring that only whites could uphold the "gentlemanly character" of professional baseball. Others argued that excluding blacks would prevent future racial resentment between the ethnicities, as players of different races would be competing for the same job opportunities.
Several summers ago, I made my first All-Star baseball team for a local little league. When I heard that I was picked, I was overwhelmed with happiness. A lot of my friends and teammates in years past had made the team, but never me. I was finally selected by the head coach of the All-Star team, and considered it quite an honor.
Baseball, in the 1940s, was not an integrated sport, but rather followed a separate but equal policy. While the white players got paid a lot of money to play in the Major Leagues, the sometimes superior black players were left to play in the Negro Leagues, which did not pay as well. Many of these players gained notoriety through this league, such as Satchel Paige and Josh Gibson. While their records beat numerous of the white players records, racism was too bad to justify integrating the Major Leagues without someone who would not fight the callous abuse that was sure to come their way. One man was successful in finding the right man to play. Branch Rickey made baseball history by signing a black player to the Dodgers in 1947. The Negro League star players questioned his choice in players, but ultimately Rickey made the right decision by signing Jackie Robinson.
Its America’s pastime. Since 1869, the MLB has been the sweetheart of American sports. A requisite to be a true American is to have a conceptual understanding of baseball; the seventh inning stretch, “Take Me Out To The Ball Game,” as well as hotdogs and warm summer nights at the ball park are all favorite memories of American pastime. However, what one might not realize is the extreme physics behind the game. The velocity of the pitch, and degree of the ball exiting the bat, the exit speed, and how an outfielder throws are entailed within the physics of baseball. It is important to understand the physics involved with baseball to grow in understanding and appreciation of the sport.
It all began one day when I was six years old. My dad and I were playing catch at my grandparents house in the yard. I decided that I wanted to pitch so I told my dad to crouch down like a catcher. As I began to pitch I would try to imitate my favorite pitcher at the time, Cardinal starter, Chris Carpenter. My grandpa would sit in a chair by the window and watch me throw. After throwing a few pitches my grandpa decided that he wanted to come outside. With his walker, he made his slow walk outside to get a closer look at me. “I think we’ve got something here” he said to my dad as I continued to pitch. From that moment on, I always wanted to pitch in front of him just to listen to what he would have to say about me.
In Play Ball by Matt Christopher, Carter, a baseball player finds trouble when his cousin moves. In the beginning, Carter and Liam are living life to the fullest. They just finally finish playing in the Little League Baseball World Series. After a fun and adventures day Liam heads home from Carters house. When Carter finishes his dinner he heads over to Liam’s so they can do homework together when, BAM! The news hits that Liam will be moving from Pennsylvania to California after Christmas.
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.
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
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
Once I released it, I knew that he was going to hit it. CRACK! It was a 500 foot home run to give them a one run lead. My perfect game was over. In the bottom of the ninth inning, Will hit a triple, and my teammate, Kris, hit a sacrifice fly to center field. It was tied 1-1. Next, our first baseman, Jose Alvarez, hit a homerun for a walk off win! We were victorious! The following day, I received a call from Amaro, saying that he would bring me up to Triple A Lehigh to challenge my game, and that my contract would stay the same, unless I make it up to the Phillies that year. In my AAA debut, I pitched for two innings and allowed eight runs. I felt like I would be sent down to Clearwater again. However, in my next game, I pitched for a complete game allowing just four hits and only one run. Against the Pawtucket Red Sox, I pitched for eight innings, allowing two runs, and only three hits. The next game, I pitched for nine innings, allowing two hits, earning zero runs. The following day, I received a voicemail from Amaro, and he
I broke down and bought a "fake" one, LOL! I still have it in my basement.