I Know Me Narrative
10. When did you know you were destined for something? When you were in grade school, high school or college? It’s possible, you have not found it yet, or maybe you are like me and it was immediate. Something so built into your body, your DNA, your life that it is like the color of your hair. My focus was set early and remains clear, I am exactly who I am suppose to be. The first word for many are Mom or Dad, mine was ball. I remember seeing my cousins with a bat and ball and it was the first thing that I can remember sparking my interest. Everything about it was perfect. I’ll never forget the day that I was given my first glove. It was small, brown, and broken in. I used to carry all of my baseball equipment with me everywhere in a small bat
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Finally, it felt like Christmas morning, with a twist. I had never felt this way about anything before. A form of happiness, while the insides of my stomach wanted to see the light of day. Everything is twisting around like the cheesy dance moves they show at the stadium, but I’m still excited. Nervous for potential of what today holds. Once in a movie that I saw, they showed a man about to play for the Yankees, stop and stare at himself fully dressed in his uniform. Naturally, I did the same thing after putting on my uniform, pants, and matching socks. Blue, my favorite color, 9, my favorite number, pinstripes and high socks, I was ready. I always imagined this day and in reality it was so far from what I ever could have imagined. This is when I found out that the game is actually not as a simple as it appears. In fact it is something like an onion, with layers and layers, each of which an important part of the whole thing. I imagined I would be great at this game right away. Why? Well I loved it more than anyone else, I thought that counted for something. The truth is, it does, just not more than skill. I was hitting near the bottom of the order, but I was one of the younger players. I finally had my shot to step in the box. I walk slowly staring down the pitcher, trying to imagine that he was fearful of what I could do. I took my stance, making up my own routine. The wind-up, and suddenly everything slowed down. Stich by stich the ball rotated in. I was so nervous. Was …show more content…
I was good. In fact I was an all-star. This was my first honor, award, or recognition that I earned. I looked ridiculous wearing teal pinstriped pants with my red all-star shirt. I was more nervous for this game than my first game. This was the best of the best. Everyone was good. I honestly do not remember much about this game. Other than the fact that I got hit in the butt with a pitch, it was a dull game. Maybe I should explain, I was watching this pitch come in from the left-handed pitcher. It had late break going further out of the strike zone, I turned my back, trying to avoid it and pop, right off the old keister. It’s funny to me when I look back at the names on the other shirt I was given, the one with everyone’s name from my team. I remember looking back on it and noticing that for some guys, this was it. They never played again and I could never figure out why. Why do people give up things that they have talent
Finally, it felt like Christmas morning, with a twist. I had never felt this way about anything before. A form of happiness, while the insides of my stomach wanted to see the light of day. Everything is twisting around like the cheesy dance moves they show at the stadium, but I’m still excited. Nervous for potential of what today holds. Once in a movie that I saw, they showed a man about to play for the Yankees, stop and stare at himself fully dressed in his uniform. Naturally, I did the same thing after putting on my uniform, pants, and matching socks. Blue, my favorite color, 9, my favorite number, pinstripes and high socks, I was ready. I always imagined this day and in reality it was so far from what I ever could have imagined. This is when I found out that the game is actually not as a simple as it appears. In fact it is something like an onion, with layers and layers, each of which an important part of the whole thing. I imagined I would be great at this game right away. Why? Well I loved it more than anyone else, I thought that counted for something. The truth is, it does, just not more than skill. I was hitting near the bottom of the order, but I was one of the younger players. I finally had my shot to step in the box. I walk slowly staring down the pitcher, trying to imagine that he was fearful of what I could do. I took my stance, making up my own routine. The wind-up, and suddenly everything slowed down. Stich by stich the ball rotated in. I was so nervous. Was …show more content…
I was good. In fact I was an all-star. This was my first honor, award, or recognition that I earned. I looked ridiculous wearing teal pinstriped pants with my red all-star shirt. I was more nervous for this game than my first game. This was the best of the best. Everyone was good. I honestly do not remember much about this game. Other than the fact that I got hit in the butt with a pitch, it was a dull game. Maybe I should explain, I was watching this pitch come in from the left-handed pitcher. It had late break going further out of the strike zone, I turned my back, trying to avoid it and pop, right off the old keister. It’s funny to me when I look back at the names on the other shirt I was given, the one with everyone’s name from my team. I remember looking back on it and noticing that for some guys, this was it. They never played again and I could never figure out why. Why do people give up things that they have talent