Narrative Essay On Softball Then And Now
Softball Then and Now When I was nine years old, I switched schools. I went from Freeman Public School to Holy Redeemer Catholic School. This is where I was introduced to sports since my previous school didn’t offer any sports for the students. The first sport I played was basketball. I also played volleyball and softball. It was in fourth grade that I first started playing softball, and my dad found me an old ragged, leather, ball glove to start with. It was so old that the color was faded to a bland, pukey brown, and it smelled like a wet dog. I wanted to become a pitcher, so I worked hard on my stance, positioning of my arm, and learned how to hold and release the ball from my hand a certain way. My finger tips were to be placed across
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At this particular tournament, we had to play on a church field that was all grass, including the infield. This field was so awful you couldn’t tell where the infield started and where the outfield began. It was my turn up at bat, and as I swung my powder puff pink bat, I cracked the ball deep into left field. I ran to first. Then I rounded my way to second base, and at this point I turned and looked and thought I could make it to third base. I made it to third, but as I was turning to run home, I slipped on the wet grass and fell flat on my face. As I got up to run back, I was caught up in a back and forth of hot box to get me out. I was run down to the point that every time I tried to get up, I fell again and fell at home plate. I then proceeded to go back to third, so I wouldn’t be tagged out. Then it happened again. I slipped and fell head first at third and was tagged out on my head. When I finally got up, I realized what had happened, and I had grass stained scraps and cuts all up and down my legs and face. I was so mad at myself because I knew that the grass was wet, and all I could think about was getting in a run to tie up the game. I rushed myself and it cost the team a scoring
At this particular tournament, we had to play on a church field that was all grass, including the infield. This field was so awful you couldn’t tell where the infield started and where the outfield began. It was my turn up at bat, and as I swung my powder puff pink bat, I cracked the ball deep into left field. I ran to first. Then I rounded my way to second base, and at this point I turned and looked and thought I could make it to third base. I made it to third, but as I was turning to run home, I slipped on the wet grass and fell flat on my face. As I got up to run back, I was caught up in a back and forth of hot box to get me out. I was run down to the point that every time I tried to get up, I fell again and fell at home plate. I then proceeded to go back to third, so I wouldn’t be tagged out. Then it happened again. I slipped and fell head first at third and was tagged out on my head. When I finally got up, I realized what had happened, and I had grass stained scraps and cuts all up and down my legs and face. I was so mad at myself because I knew that the grass was wet, and all I could think about was getting in a run to tie up the game. I rushed myself and it cost the team a scoring