As I sit on the bleachers I get all these memories that have long passed. I remember the first time I stepped into to the first during voluntary practice in the summer of 2011. I thought it was the biggest field ever. There was seniors in one corner messing around enjoying themselves, while I was nervous of what the coach could think of me. I didn't feel as bad because I knew that I wasn't the only freshman going out for the first and I had my brother there for me if anything went wrong.
That practice started at 3:30 pm and I was there by 3 pm trying to make an impression that I cared for the sport. As I put on my socks a bunch of thoughts ran through my head. I was scared of getting pushed around by the older guys. I didn't speak to anyone while I changed because I didn't know what to say or how to react. Then the clock struck 3:30 pm and it was time to train.
Everyone stood up and lined up. We did what needed to be done that practice and then it was over. I realized that day that that's the place where I wanted to be for the rest of my high school years. Nobody was picking on the freshmen and everyone had the same ambition, which was to make the team.
Sunday, October 26, 2014
Examination
This week there was a lot of bird poop and feathers laying around. One would say that all you can hear from here is the noise traffic of the cars.
I felt the burning sun pounding against my back the first two days and the other three it was shining right at me. Every time before practice the grass is wet. The little grass that's left has been abuse several time. It's not treated the way it's supposed especially to those who say it's their home. But also the love and passion for the sport played on it has over powered it.
The last day I decided to do something different and look at the field from the outside in. I sat next to the yellow recycling bin (facing north towards the field). First thing somebody would notice is the gray fence straight ahead ahead of them. It was so hot but there's a breeze that felt amazing when it would hit. The main difference I recognize from the inside and outside was that the grass isn't treated the same. For example, the grass is super long and there's trash all over it. When the inside one is always getting cut, watered, and taken care of when season isn't in action. Then one would see there's two different entrances right next to one another. One is perhaps for trucks to fit through,most likely for softball, and the other for normal people to enter.
I felt the burning sun pounding against my back the first two days and the other three it was shining right at me. Every time before practice the grass is wet. The little grass that's left has been abuse several time. It's not treated the way it's supposed especially to those who say it's their home. But also the love and passion for the sport played on it has over powered it.
The last day I decided to do something different and look at the field from the outside in. I sat next to the yellow recycling bin (facing north towards the field). First thing somebody would notice is the gray fence straight ahead ahead of them. It was so hot but there's a breeze that felt amazing when it would hit. The main difference I recognize from the inside and outside was that the grass isn't treated the same. For example, the grass is super long and there's trash all over it. When the inside one is always getting cut, watered, and taken care of when season isn't in action. Then one would see there's two different entrances right next to one another. One is perhaps for trucks to fit through,most likely for softball, and the other for normal people to enter.
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