I was the third batter up. Lou stated, “She’s throwing a lot for you to hit. Look for the outside corner.” She high fived me and walked into the dugout. I then ran up to the batter’s box. I did my routine three practice swings outside the box, visualizing the perfect pitch and the perfect hit.
But when the right fielder got there he completely missed the ball allowing the first two runners to score with ease. I was devastated. Then rest of the inning went by with no more trouble and the game continued. When back on the mound for the sixth, I had gotten the first two outs easily but the next hitter did the unthinkable. He jacked a solo homerun to left field off of me and they led by one.
After everyone has piled on the appropriate condiments, no ketchup of course, we make our way to our seats. Same place every time: third base line, lower level, right where we can heckle the opposing team throughout the game. We get to our seats just in time to see some celebrity attempt to throw the first pitch and the game has begun. Within minutes we are all immersed in cheering on the Cubs, insulting the other team, and chewing out the umpires for whatever calls we feel are unjust. If a ball is smashed towards the wall, we are on our feet in seconds, inspiring it to grow wings and leave the ballpark.
Yikes! As I tried to shrug off these thoughts, I noticed that our coach had moved the infielders closer, up on the grass to prevent a run being scored. I figured I had to throw an inside two-seam fastball; there would be no way for this batter to catch up to it. Once I released it, time seemed to slow down. I could see the seams of the ball rotate as the ball rifled toward the batter as he began to swing--already too late.
All I can see is the pitcher and the ball she's going to pitch to me. She winds up and releases. Just in time, I react and swing the bat. The ball sails through the air over the girl in the left field. I run all the bases and score the winning point for the team.
I am here today to explain to you all exactly w hy the MLB should just get rid of the designated hitter all together. First of all, baseball is an offensive and defensive game for all players. Secondly, the designated hitter takes away the “small ball” from the game and makes a manager’s job much easier. (explain small ball) Thirdly, with a designated hitter there are a lot more “beanballs” in the American League. (explain beanball) So, let’s begin.
Trevor Nalley By Richard McDowell 2/5/14 It was the 6th inning in the championship game. They were down by 10. The sweat was dripping off his face on the humid July night. The stars were shining bright in the dark night. There was a slight breeze, which made the softball sore through the dark night.
I never notice that softball is a bipolar sport. People get happy for one minute then the next they are yelling and screaming at each other. For example, when the second basemen would make a mistake, the whole team will start screaming at him. But once he is up to bat, and hits a base hit. The whole team would be cheering him on and telling him good hit and way to stroke the ball.
In this movie, Scotty Smalls hit his stepfather’s prized possession baseball signed by Babe Ruth over the fence into Mr. Mertle’s yard where an enormous, beastly dog lived. After doing this, the team thinks of a variety of different plans to get Scotty’s stepfather’s baseball back safe. The first few attempts at getting the ball back failed miserably but they did not just give up and forget about the ball. The team worked together and devised a master plan which involved Benny hopping the fence into Mr. Mertle’s yard and retrieving the baseball before “The Beast” even noticed. The plan was a success and without friendship, teamwork, and the will to never give up, the prized ball would have still been sitting in Mr. Mertle’s yard with “The
Indeed, it is no secret that too often scorekeeping, league standings, and the drive to win bring out the worst in adults who are more absorbed in living out their own fantasies than in enhancing the quality of the experience for children (Smith, Smith, and Smoll 9). Recent newspaper articles on children's sports contain plenty of horror stories. Los Angeles Times reporter Rich Tosches, for example, tells the story of a brawl among seventy-five parents following a Peewee Football game (A33). As a result of the brawl, which began when a parent from one team confronted a player from the other team, the teams are now thinking of hiring security guards for future games. Another example is provided by an L.A. Times editorial about a Little League manager who intimidated the opposing team by setting fire to one of their team's jerseys on the pitching mound before the game began.