Exploratory_Essay

Exploratory Essay Go ahead and try to top the view of fresh cut grass, white chalk lining the dirt, and the summer sun beating down on the diamond where the greatest game is played. This picture is burned in my mind since about the time I learned to walk. Where else can you throw a round ball as hard as you can to an opposing player whose job is to hit it back out towards the pitcher as hard as he or she can' Baseball is attractive to a person like me because of the history of it professionally and the simplicity of the sport when introduced to me as a young boy. It has been said by many people that the hardest thing in any sport to do is hit a round ball with a round bat. As a kid I watch professionals such as Cal Ripken Jr. and Don Mattingly play baseball with such ease made me want to attempt it. At a young age, you start out with a bat, a cushioned ball, and a tee. The art of hitting has to be learned at its most simple point. The best time for a kid playing for the first time is when the ball is literally sitting in the sweet spot for the bat to meet it at the opportune spot. Catching and throwing is when things get a little trickier. After many fat lips and sprints running after the missed ball one gets a little sick and tired of failing. At this age, I learned the art of repetition. I was also introduced to the common phrase, “Practice makes perfect.” Although I was far from perfect, I did see myself improve as the years went by. Even when the tee was removed and the pitcher was introduced things become a little easier to pick up because I enjoyed what I was doing. It was not too soon after this that I hit a very critical time in my life in sports. It was an early April night and I was reading on my parent’s bed when my mother handed me the phone saying there is a phone call for you. On the other end was Mr. Green and his exact words were: “Bobby, Bob Green here. Congratulations on making the Pirates son. We are going to have practice at 4 P.M. Monday afternoon. Make sure you wear baseball pants and your cup. Okay, see you then.” That was all he said and I was not able to say much else besides, “Okay. Thank you. Alright see ya Monday.” Making Little League to this day is the best feeling I have ever had. Let’s just say going from a league where the pitcher is a parent to a league where other 9 through 12 year olds pitch to each other is one of the toughest transitions a kid can make. To say I struggled would be putting it mildly. In an 18 game season I accumulated 1 hit and cried at least once a game. The problem adapting is the fact that some of the older kids, who are only two years older than you, are double your size. It was difficult not to go up to the plate with your knees shaking when the pitcher is sprouting facial hair and I was 9 years old. Something changed that summer because the next season was completely different. Each season after that continued to show progression and ended with making a travel team for the summer. Those were some of the best days a kid could have. Just about every day would consist of waking up late and going to play baseball with all of your friends. The sport went from a learning process, to an enjoyable hobby that you shared with 11 other friends. It sounds corny, but it became a brotherhood every summer. We would share what we learned that year during Little League from our separate coaches. We all learned from one another because now we weren’t competing anymore. Once we were teammates, we all developed better habits. Practice became fun. The game became easier because the friends around you would push you to do better and you wouldn’t want to make a mistake in front of them. I wouldn’t trade it in for the world. The biggest jump is when the fun game that you play with friends becomes more competitive. High School baseball is the biggest transition one has to make after playing in organized leagues as a young teenager. This is when the coach separates player based on their personal opinion of their performance. If you batted lead-off all of your life and the High School coach may think different. If you played with all of your friends every summer since 3rd grade, this coach may think different again. Losing that brotherhood you built over years can break a team’s spirit. All of the trophies we won when we were younger mean nothing to this new coach. The game does become more difficult because of the pressure. The once simple game can give you a world full of problems because the game plan has changed. I was always allowed to swing away, but once High School came around I was bunting at least once a game. The end story is as anyone would guess after getting that back story. Our team failed miserably for 4 seasons. The problem was both the coach and lack of team chemistry, but it reminded me of a valuable lesson I learned in Little League. The lesson is that whether no coaches or new teammates can damage a friendship. This may seem like a cliché, but I truly believe that team chemistry is built on being comfortable with your surroundings. Maybe one day if I get to coach I will use this advice and not only look for my star shortstop, but also look for certain teammates that bond well. Winning isn’t everything, but it sure does make the game more enjoyable. It all hit me when I went to Mr. Green’s viewing 13 years after it all began. The game I love was taught to me by this man and at the end of his life he taught me another lesson. The line wrapped around the street and when I walked in I saw faces that I haven’t seen in years. This wrapped everything up for me. As sad as it sounds, my childhood was officially over. My baseball career had been over for some time when I viewed the casket, but this wasn’t about closure. This was about friendship after all of these years. All of these people came to pay their respects to a man who taught everyone the game we all now love. The game that created a passion for a sport and so many friendships that last for a lifetime. It felt like a big part of my life was now turning a page. Although, the man who taught us all so much had left us, his lessons will live with us forever. Leaving the viewing all I could think about was the view of freshly cut grass, white chalk lining the dirt, and the summer sun beating down on the diamond where the greatest game is played.