The crisp breeze rustled my hair as I walked out of my house on the fall September day with my dad drilling instructions into my head. It was my first Little League baseball game ever, and my dad wanted to make sure it wasn’t my last. Being seven years old and never touching a baseball was something that had scared me; a lot. I had no idea what to think about this foreign, petrifying, game could possibly be about. The car ride from my house was only a few minutes away from the fields where I would begin my baseball career. “The key to hitting the ball, is to always keep your eye on the ball,” said my dad. I waited for my dad to come undo my car seat that I was never able to unhook myself. As I walked up the gravel road leading to my field,
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“What is the number one rule for the game today,” said my coach. “To have fun!” screamed my team. It was time for my team and I to hit. I had never been so scared in my life. I had no idea how I was supposed to hit a ball that was flying through the air. I grabbed a helmet that was clearly too small for my overly large head, and headed up to the plate. I could hear my dad behind the fence repeating, “keep your eye on the ball.” I had one goal in mind; to keep my eye on that ball. The pitcher wound up, and chucked the ball towards me. I swung, and ended up swinging as the ball passed me. The next pitch came and I waited a second longer and smacked the ball right back at the pitcher. I ran as fast as my little legs would move. I reached first base and looked at my dad to see him jumping up and down with excitement; he was so proud of me I couldn’t help but smile back at him. As the game progressed, I had no idea how I was magically given these talents. My first baseball game ever had been off to a tremendous start; until my next at bat. After my first at bat, I was riding my high horse thinking I was going to get another hit and make my dad proud all over again. I stepped into the white caulk batter’s box, and went through it all again. As the pitch came in, I noticed it seemed to be coming towards me instead of down the middle. I wasn’t sure what to do, so I stayed right where I was; and got
“What is the number one rule for the game today,” said my coach. “To have fun!” screamed my team. It was time for my team and I to hit. I had never been so scared in my life. I had no idea how I was supposed to hit a ball that was flying through the air. I grabbed a helmet that was clearly too small for my overly large head, and headed up to the plate. I could hear my dad behind the fence repeating, “keep your eye on the ball.” I had one goal in mind; to keep my eye on that ball. The pitcher wound up, and chucked the ball towards me. I swung, and ended up swinging as the ball passed me. The next pitch came and I waited a second longer and smacked the ball right back at the pitcher. I ran as fast as my little legs would move. I reached first base and looked at my dad to see him jumping up and down with excitement; he was so proud of me I couldn’t help but smile back at him. As the game progressed, I had no idea how I was magically given these talents. My first baseball game ever had been off to a tremendous start; until my next at bat. After my first at bat, I was riding my high horse thinking I was going to get another hit and make my dad proud all over again. I stepped into the white caulk batter’s box, and went through it all again. As the pitch came in, I noticed it seemed to be coming towards me instead of down the middle. I wasn’t sure what to do, so I stayed right where I was; and got