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When I think of the times of my youth, all I seem to remember is the dusty baseball infield. Seeing the cleats from the players on the infield kicking up brown dust, which then was picked up by the summer winds and was blown right at me It was a brown crumbly infield, that had that arid, agonizing, annoying dust that gets into your eyes and made your eyes water. I would always be wiping dust in my eyes as I patently waited for my chance to show what I could do when the ball was hit towards me. This day I remember vividly, due to the fact is was the most important game in my life to that point. Seeing my enemy, the Red Sox with their red uniforms looking confident against my team, in their dugout laughing at how undersized our team was. We never that defeated team up to that point, which is another reason why they probably mocked us, but this was going to be are day. The sun was shining and we felt good coming off our two tournament wins earlier in the day. A 10 to 3 victory over the Blue Sox in the morning, and a 7-4 win over the White Sox in the mid after noon. It was a scheduled 3 pm start to see who would win this tournament. Coach gave us a pep talk before the game telling us of how big this game was going to be and bribing are young team with promises of pizza. Parents all waiting in anticipation and gathered their hot dogs and cracker jacks, hungry from being there all day. The announcer introduced both teams on the loud speaker that echoed around the stadium. As the players took the field, you could see a look of enthusiasm on all their faces. I ran as fast as I could to left field screaming and jumping with excitement. This was going to be the day when we finally defeated the Red Sox and to make it even better, call ourselves champions of the whole league. We all got into position and the game began. I stood there in that big open outfield and realized the enjoyment of the opening of the game was wearing off. I have been standing out here in this same stretch of grass for about 5 hours now, if you combined the three games put together. In addition, I have had less action come than a catcher in a tee ball game. It was great to go up and slap the baseball with all your might, but 90% of baseball is boring and you really do not do anything except teach you are self to whistle or scratch your butt, (which I did quite often). I looked down and saw that my socks had a red stripe on the side, with white on the middle, that stretched all the way up to my knees and it made me wonder. Why do baseball socks have to be so elaborate? Did they really have to reach to your knee and why do they have to have our team colors on them? I like small white socks. Where these things so important to the early players of the game that they had to dedicate the whole name of the team to the color of there socks? Where's the imagination in that. This got me thinking about the early players of the game and why they came up with all these crazy rules. For example, having someone throw something and have another person hit it with a stick. STRIKE THREE, YOUR OUT! It was then I realized I have been paying no attention to the game and walked over to the bench. Every inning went on this way with me standing out there just keeping to my self, thinking. The game was almost over and the outfield had been good to me. I watched bugs fly about as I tried hitting them with my glove. Made shadow puppets with my hat and hands until I could make what appeared to be a monkey of some sort. The best part about it was we were ahead and about to beat the best team in the tournament and there was no possible way I could lose the game for us. I was just standing there looking into the sky guessing were that airplane might me going. Seeing if it would hit a cow I just discovered in the clouds. Wondering what it would be like for me in an airplane that was in a cow cloud. I was blocking the sun with my glove and noticed my batting glove was becoming a little old from the time at the batting cage, and that my shoes felt funny. Then I heard a loud ding from the aluminum bat and people yelling at the hit. It was then I realized this ball is heading right for me. What do I do? I was unprepared for this moment. Do I run forward or backward? Is my shoe going to stay on when I start running? Will we eat pizza after the game?! There are many questions to be answered and time running out, this ball is shooting at me and its half way here. I froze in my tracks not knowing what to do. If this hits the ground, we will lose the game all this will be my fault and god will hate me. Only about 30 more feet until it gets here I had better think quickly. I closed my eyes and put my glove in the air. The crowed erupted with yells and cheers. I slowly opened my eyes and looked up to see what I have done. The ball was in my glove and my hand shook from all the excitement. Shocked from doing nothing to something I ran to the infield as if to say, "Look what I did". Everybody was so impressed that I caught it, and probably a little surprised if they were watching me before that, I felt like the best player on earth. I gave the ball back to the pitcher because my throwing accuracy was not good enough to get to him with a toss and I dint want to ruin the moment by showing how good I really was. I went back to my position in the great out field, which was now greener then ever. Just one more out and the game would end and I'd be the hero. Hit, hit, walk, hit by pitch, home run was how my next 10 minutes of the game went from where I was standing. We had a chance to get back into it but after blowing the lead being out in the sun for so long, we really did not care anymore. We lost the game and I realized something, baseball is a boring game with nothing to do most the time. It was made by a bunch of sock loving, cloud watching, want to be athletes that liked hitting stuff with sticks. I still love the game though because of those very reason.
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Participating in a Baseball Match essay
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Participating In A Baseball Match Essay

Words: 1187    Pages: 4    Paragraphs: 6    Sentences: 66    Read Time: 04:18
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              When I think of the times of my youth, all I seem to remember is the dusty baseball infield. Seeing the cleats from the players on the infield kicking up brown dust, which then was picked up by the summer winds and was blown right at me It was a brown crumbly infield, that had that arid, agonizing, annoying dust that gets into your eyes and made your eyes water. I would always be wiping dust in my eyes as I patently waited for my chance to show what I could do when the ball was hit towards me. This day I remember vividly, due to the fact is was the most important game in my life to that point. Seeing my enemy, the Red Sox with their red uniforms looking confident against my team, in their dugout laughing at how undersized our team was. We never that defeated team up to that point, which is another reason why they probably mocked us, but this was going to be are day.
             
             
              The sun was shining and we felt good coming off our two tournament wins earlier in the day. A 10 to 3 victory over the Blue Sox in the morning, and a 7-4 win over the White Sox in the mid after noon. It was a scheduled 3 pm start to see who would win this tournament. Coach gave us a pep talk before the game telling us of how big this game was going to be and bribing are young team with promises of pizza. Parents all waiting in anticipation and gathered their hot dogs and cracker jacks, hungry from being there all day. The announcer introduced both teams on the loud speaker that echoed around the stadium. As the players took the field, you could see a look of enthusiasm on all their faces. I ran as fast as I could to left field screaming and jumping with excitement. This was going to be the day when we finally defeated the Red Sox and to make it even better, call ourselves champions of the whole league. We all got into position and the game began.
             
              I stood there in that big open outfield and realized the enjoyment of the opening of the game was wearing off. I have been standing out here in this same stretch of grass for about 5 hours now, if you combined the three games put together. In addition, I have had less action come than a catcher in a tee ball game. It was great to go up and slap the baseball with all your might, but 90% of baseball is boring and you really do not do anything except teach you are self to whistle or scratch your butt, (which I did quite often). I looked down and saw that my socks had a red stripe on the side, with white on the middle, that stretched all the way up to my knees and it made me wonder. Why do baseball socks have to be so elaborate? Did they really have to reach to your knee and why do they have to have our team colors on them? I like small white socks. Where these things so important to the early players of the game that they had to dedicate the whole name of the team to the color of there socks? Where's the imagination in that. This got me thinking about the early players of the game and why they came up with all these crazy rules. For example, having someone throw something and have another person hit it with a stick. STRIKE THREE, YOUR OUT! It was then I realized I have been paying no attention to the game and walked over to the bench. Every inning went on this way with me standing out there just keeping to my self, thinking.
             
              The game was almost over and the outfield had been good to me. I watched bugs fly about as I tried hitting them with my glove. Made shadow puppets with my hat and hands until I could make what appeared to be a monkey of some sort. The best part about it was we were ahead and about to beat the best team in the tournament and there was no possible way I could lose the game for us. I was just standing there looking into the sky guessing were that airplane might me going. Seeing if it would hit a cow I just discovered in the clouds. Wondering what it would be like for me in an airplane that was in a cow cloud. I was blocking the sun with my glove and noticed my batting glove was becoming a little old from the time at the batting cage, and that my shoes felt funny. Then I heard a loud ding from the aluminum bat and people yelling at the hit. It was then I realized this ball is heading right for me. What do I do? I was unprepared for this moment. Do I run forward or backward? Is my shoe going to stay on when I start running? Will we eat pizza after the game? ! There are many questions to be answered and time running out, this ball is shooting at me and its half way here. I froze in my tracks not knowing what to do. If this hits the ground, we will lose the game all this will be my fault and god will hate me. Only about 30 more feet until it gets here I had better think quickly. I closed my eyes and put my glove in the air.
             
              The crowed erupted with yells and cheers. I slowly opened my eyes and looked up to see what I have done. The ball was in my glove and my hand shook from all the excitement. Shocked from doing nothing to something I ran to the infield as if to say, "Look what I did". Everybody was so impressed that I caught it, and probably a little surprised if they were watching me before that, I felt like the best player on earth. I gave the ball back to the pitcher because my throwing accuracy was not good enough to get to him with a toss and I dint want to ruin the moment by showing how good I really was. I went back to my position in the great out field, which was now greener then ever. Just one more out and the game would end and I'd be the hero.
             
              Hit, hit, walk, hit by pitch, home run was how my next 10 minutes of the game went from where I was standing. We had a chance to get back into it but after blowing the lead being out in the sun for so long, we really did not care anymore. We lost the game and I realized something, baseball is a boring game with nothing to do most the time. It was made by a bunch of sock loving, cloud watching, want to be athletes that liked hitting stuff with sticks. I still love the game though because of those very reason.
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