Baseball

Baseball. This is one word I thought I could never live without. The final pitch of my career was heading towards me. It was a 0-2 count, with a runner on second and two outs. Before the pitch, I could just hear everyone cheering for me. I was in the big spot light. As the pitcher grunted, the ball fell off his fingers heading towards me. I took my step, hands back, and before you know it, whiff, STRIKE THREE! Next, I realize the clang noise that the ball bounced in the dirt and went to the fence behind me. The catcher turns around sprinting for the ball as I huff and puff my way down the line. I am running as fast as I can because if I don’t reach the bag then I know we will lose the game. Suddenly out of nowhere, the ball beats me to the bag. The ump yells, “OUT”. At this point, everything stopped. I couldn’t bear this knotty feeling in my stomach. Without thinking, I threw my helmet at the ground. It was all over. Baseball has finally run out of gas. My stretch of playing is over. It wasn’t a choice I wanted to make but it was the right one. My baseball career was a rollercoaster. This season was a good example of it. Throughout the summer, there has been many ups and downs. I will never forget about baseball. I constantly think about it. I still think about that hot summer day, bottom of the 7^th with two outs and the tying run on second and I didn’t come through for my teammates. But if they ever need me outside of the game, they can count on me, no matter what it is. I can live without playing the game I love, but there will always be that fire inside of me, that passion, I will always have for this game.