There isn’t a time in my life that I can remember where I
wasn’t playing a sport. From the time I was little, my dad and I would go into
the backyard and either throw a football or a baseball back and forth.
Sometimes we would kick a soccer ball. It was a lot of fun and as I grew older,
I got to play things like kickball in gym class. If it involved a ball, I
wanted to play. That hasn’t changed, even though I’m an adult now.
I played football and baseball when I was in high school. I
was pretty good at both of them. During the summer, I played soccer with my
friends. It seemed like if I wasn’t doing homework or in school, I was on a
field somewhere. I loved it.
Then, I went to college and had to decide which sport I
wanted to play. I couldn’t play football, baseball, and soccer anymore. There
just wasn’t enough time with classes, homework, and hanging out with my
friends. In the end, I decided that I wanted to play baseball. It was my dad’s
favorite sport and one that I had always loved. I wanted to make sure that he
was proud of me.
I did pretty good in college. So good, that after I
graduated, a professional baseball team wanted me to come and play for them! I
couldn’t believe it. Instead of managing teams, I was going to get to keep
playing for one!
I remember my very first game. My family and friends were in
the crowd, and I was really nervous. What if I struck out? What if I hit the
ball, but tripped and fell while I was running? Before I knew it, it was my
turn at bat. I’d been so worried about what might happen that I didn’t even
notice that the batters in front of me had all gotten onto base and it was now
bases loaded.
I swallowed hard and made my way to the batter’s box. I
could hear my family cheering me on. I closed my eyes for a second and then stepped
forward to show that I was ready. I took another deep breath and waited for the
first pitch. When it came, I swung at it, but missed. The same thing happened
with the second pitch.
I stepped back for a moment and adjusted my hat. The crowd
had gotten really quiet. I glanced up and saw my dad sitting in the stands. He
nodded at me, and it reminded me of all the times we had played catch in the
backyard. I smiled and stepped back up to the plate.
This time, when the ball came, I was ready for it. I took a
deep breath, swung my bat, and heard the crack of the ball as it hit it. I
watched as it went soaring and my teammates started running. I started running
too and before I had made it to first base, I heard the announcer yell, “Home
run! Salem has hit a grand slam at his first time at bat!”
As I rounded third base, I looked up into the stands and
there stood my father, yelling and cheering with the rest of the fans in the
crowd. His eyes met mine and he smiled. He was proud of me, and you know what?
I was proud of me too. I had done something that some players only dream about
and even if it never happens again, it happened to me that time.
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