Batter up!

My first trip to a baseball stadium was an experience that will make a long-lasting impression on me. Having played on a little league team and having the experiences of playing on a little league field, it is nothing compared to what I saw the first time. It was a night game in the month of May. It was a warm night the bright yellowish-orange sun hit my body; my excitement was growing in anticipation of what was going to be a completely new experience for me, I was going to see my first professional baseball game. As we approached the stadium and parked the car, we walked closer to the entrance of the stadium. My excitement started to sharply increase. As we walked toward the ticket booth ahead of my parents to get our tickets, I was slowly getting more anxious. With tickets in hand, I anxiously waited for the gates to open. I marveled at how beautiful the stadium was built, looking at how the red bricks made specific patterns and other designs. Upon entering the stadium, I saw the gray stairs awaiting me. Nervously approaching them ever so slightly, we waited at the back of the line. I looked around and saw many people socializing amongst each other. Observing this, we all pondered what they might have been saying about the facility as well. At last, the line started to move. Walking up the stairs, I let my excitement come out. I was astonished at the magnificent size of the stadium. My family and I proceeded to grab the free program being handed out.

Looking around, I witnessed the green seats, the gray facade concession stands, and the black scoreboard with LED lighting. I was overwhelmed taking in the magnitude of the stadium.

Proceeding down the concourse, I stopped and grabbed some food. When entering the stadium, I could smell the popcorn popping, the hotdogs cooking, and the fried dough being fried. Being hungry, I ordered a large buttery popcorn. The popcorn was white and yellow in color and smothered with butter that lingered on my taste buds. The public address system crackled, and the announcer began to utter, “Ladies and gentlemen, will you please rise and remove your hats for the singing of our national anthem.” Rising to my feet, I began to listen to her sing. Her voice was harmonious and enchanting as she sang. Finally, the moment I waited for; THE GAME HAS BEGUN! The home team, wearing white jerseys with red hats took the field. They ran, sprinting to their positions as if they are running a 100-yard dash. After about five minutes, the umpire bellowed “Play Ball” the crowd began letting out screams and cheers the game was finally being played. Throughout the game, the feeling of the cool, crisp breeze ran over the stadium as if a ghost had just walked past. The emotions of many of the fans came to light; people were angry, and people were happy. As play continued, the emotions were constantly changing with each pitch.

It was the bottom of the seventh; the home team was down by three runs as I began to bite my nails. Nerves began to get the best of the fans. The faces of the players were showing many emotions as well. As the home team took their turn at-bat, a quiet hue came over the stadium with each pitch. Then with the crack of the bat, the team’s worst player hit a three-run shot to deep right-center. As the ball traveled, an eerie calm was in the air. Then a loud cheer and a burst of excitement came from all of the fans as he had hit not only his first major league home run, and it was a grand slam. The crowd was wildly screaming and hollering all sorts of things, it was so exciting. And I wanted this. I needed this. That is exactly what I got.

My first games were on a Sunday night. The wind pushed the dust into the air. People around us cheered chaotically to where it was deafening. "You're out!" The umpire yells as he violently waved his hand in the air. My coach placed his hand on my shoulder and desperately peering into my eyes. "We are down to 2 outs. You're our last chance. You got this" he says pushing me out onto the field. Those words were supposed to be inspirational but instead they sent a violent shiver down my spine. Yet it brought my heart to a steadier and stronger beat. How was I supposed to do it knowing such a big responsibility rested on my shoulders? I dragged my bat through the dirt until I finally made it to the plate. I could feel people's gazes as they starred into the back of my head. The crowed went silent.

"Could I do this?" I doubt myself. I place my hand out to the pitcher forcing them to stop the play and turned to look at my parents who sat in the bleachers. They both held onto each other and desperately. My dad let go of my mom and stood up. He walked towards the fence and placed his hand in-between the hole. He began to shake the fence back and forth violently. "You got this! You got this! You got this!" He begins to chant. My teammates scattered to the gate and began to do the same. "You got this! You got this! You got this!" They began to yell in unison. I cracked a slight smile and threw my hand down to my side. I turned to the pitcher who was already staring at me. Sweat poured down his face.

I pulled the bat up in my ready position. "You got this! You got this! You got this!" Coach yells. My heart thuds against my chest begging to be let out. My foot tapped as I anxiously waited for a ball to be thrown at me 95 miles an hour. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. When I opened my eyes, they were met with the pitcher's. He swung his arm back and pulled it forward launching a missile my direction. "Swing!" someone in the crowed yells. The sound of the bat and ball together in that moment of impact brought a rush. To the point where the world stopped spinning in a good way. That was when I realized it was time to run.