Narrative About Baseball
The weather outside was perfect for anything. Of course, my family and I were thinking of doing something to do with baseball. It was just my brother and my mom with me though(my dad was working). Given that, I wasn’t sure what we were going to do. If my dad was at the house, it would be nothing but baseball. My brother decided for us though. It might sound like the strangest thing, but we were going to hit each other(no, not with our fists). My brother and I were going to practice turning into a baseball that’s about to hit you. This is pretty much when my brother can get revenge on me for what I do to him. Fortunately for me, we use tennis balls, not baseballs. Now I’m going back to how this all happened.
“Yay! You finally woke …show more content…
up,” my brother says sarcastically. Of course, being me, I have to retaliate saying, “Be quiet.” “Hey, I’m just saying,” he says back. I ignore him and get some Rice Krispies from the pantry to eat for breakfast. Da, da da, da, da. While eating breakfast, I have to listen to my brother Ripken play the same song on the piano that he has been playing for a month now, since we haven’t had a piano lesson. Today is like the only day so far in summer vacation that I’ve had nothing to do with my family being at the house with me. We had to do something exciting today. After finishing breakfast, my mom walks in and, like she always does every morning, says, “Good morning.” I’m always too tired to have a conversation with her, so I just light-heartedly say good morning back to her and keep silent after that. As I walk towards the bathroom to brush my teeth, I remember all the things I need to do today. I think in my head, ”Let’s see here, I still need to practice piano, hit off the tee, and workout.” By this time, my brother is already done practicing piano and asking me if I want to play something with him. I answer him saying, “Not right now dude, I have things to do.” He gets disappointed, but then starts hitting off the tee downstairs, taking the Ipad with him to listen to music. That’s when I brushed my teeth, hearing the shh, shh, shh noise repeatedly of the toothbrush going back and forth on my teeth. Once I was done brushing my teeth, I started getting my work done right away by practicing my piano. I got my music out and started playing a song, when I heard music blaring downstairs. I continued playing the song I was playing, but I was getting pretty aggravated in my mind because my brother never wants me distracting him while he is playing piano. I finally get too irritated with the distraction and yell downstairs to him. “Ripken, turn that music down!” I say. I listen as the music decrescendos. After getting done with piano, I hit and workout. Finally, I got done with all my stuff for the day. I eat leftovers for lunch and sit on the couch with my brother and mom, thinking of what to do. My brother comes up with practicing how to turn into a baseball.
I agree, so we get the tennis balls and get to work. My brother decides he wants to get hit first, and that’s fine with me. Once I’m done hitting him, he hits me and I work on turning into the pitch. We repeated this a few times, but since it was such a nice day we wanted to do something else. I ask him, “What do you want to do?” He answers, saying, “I don’t know, what do you want to do?” We always do this, imitating what Spongebob and Patrick do in one episode of Spongebob Squarepants. Finally, after repeating ourselves several times, my mom said, “If you don’t figure something to do quickly, I’m going to find something for you to do.” After hearing this, we tried to figure out what we were going to as fast as we could. Because of other experiences, we knew that our mom would say something like, “Why don’t you sweep in the garage?” Finally, my brother thought of something we both agreed on; wiffleball. My mom and brother would be on a team playing against me, like we’ve always played. After that though, we ran into a problem. We usually used tennis balls when we played baseball in our backyard, but I hit them too hard and my family does not want to get hit by the balls I hit. “Well”, I suggest, we could use these balls,”. My mom and brother agreed, so we just used these hard, small, yellow, foam balls. My brother didn’t want to get hit, so he let my mom pitch to me. Whoosh. We could hear the foam ball through the air as the pitch sailed over my head. Ball one. Whoosh. The ball sailed over my head again. Ball two. Whoosh. Another ball. Whoosh. Way over my head for ball four. “C’mon Ripken, just pitch,” I say. He complied, saying, “Fine. I’ll pitch.” He wasn’t any better than my mom. He threw four straight balls. “Okay, let’s get some different balls,” my mom said. My brother and I agreed since neither one of them couldn’t hit the strike zone. Then, we got squishy foam
balls. My mom, watching my brother and I get the different balls, says, “Those balls won’t be any different than the other ones.” We used the balls anyway. It worked because my brother started throwing strikes and I started hitting the ball. My singles turned into doubles, triples, and homeruns though, because I would always end up moving up a base because of the rundowns I got into. Basically, I was just demolishing my mom and brother in this. Then the game changed when I had a 1-1 count. My brother gets ready to deliver the pitch and I get ready to hit it so hard that I get a homerun. I knew the wind was going to push the ball back, so I probably wouldn’t get a homerun. I thought swinging hard was worth a shot though, so when he threw the pitch, I swung for the fence. Pop! The ball lept off my bat and went sky high. I thought it had a chance to go over my family fence, so I just watched the ball in the air, still standing in the batter’s box. That’s when I saw the ball go over our fence. I had a flood of emotions run through me when I saw this. At first I was jumping for joy while trotting around the bases. Then I remembered that it was an out if it went over the fence, and we just lost a ball. After that, I felt guilty and a little mad at myself as my brother says, “Now we can’t play no more.” I think in my head, “I knew it, a Sandlot quote.” I say, “Sorry dude.” That’s when our wiffle ball game ended. From this experience, I figured out that maybe I shouldn’t hit the balls that hard, or I should just hit from the left side. But hey, at least I hit a homerun!
“Yay! You finally woke …show more content…
up,” my brother says sarcastically. Of course, being me, I have to retaliate saying, “Be quiet.” “Hey, I’m just saying,” he says back. I ignore him and get some Rice Krispies from the pantry to eat for breakfast. Da, da da, da, da. While eating breakfast, I have to listen to my brother Ripken play the same song on the piano that he has been playing for a month now, since we haven’t had a piano lesson. Today is like the only day so far in summer vacation that I’ve had nothing to do with my family being at the house with me. We had to do something exciting today. After finishing breakfast, my mom walks in and, like she always does every morning, says, “Good morning.” I’m always too tired to have a conversation with her, so I just light-heartedly say good morning back to her and keep silent after that. As I walk towards the bathroom to brush my teeth, I remember all the things I need to do today. I think in my head, ”Let’s see here, I still need to practice piano, hit off the tee, and workout.” By this time, my brother is already done practicing piano and asking me if I want to play something with him. I answer him saying, “Not right now dude, I have things to do.” He gets disappointed, but then starts hitting off the tee downstairs, taking the Ipad with him to listen to music. That’s when I brushed my teeth, hearing the shh, shh, shh noise repeatedly of the toothbrush going back and forth on my teeth. Once I was done brushing my teeth, I started getting my work done right away by practicing my piano. I got my music out and started playing a song, when I heard music blaring downstairs. I continued playing the song I was playing, but I was getting pretty aggravated in my mind because my brother never wants me distracting him while he is playing piano. I finally get too irritated with the distraction and yell downstairs to him. “Ripken, turn that music down!” I say. I listen as the music decrescendos. After getting done with piano, I hit and workout. Finally, I got done with all my stuff for the day. I eat leftovers for lunch and sit on the couch with my brother and mom, thinking of what to do. My brother comes up with practicing how to turn into a baseball.
I agree, so we get the tennis balls and get to work. My brother decides he wants to get hit first, and that’s fine with me. Once I’m done hitting him, he hits me and I work on turning into the pitch. We repeated this a few times, but since it was such a nice day we wanted to do something else. I ask him, “What do you want to do?” He answers, saying, “I don’t know, what do you want to do?” We always do this, imitating what Spongebob and Patrick do in one episode of Spongebob Squarepants. Finally, after repeating ourselves several times, my mom said, “If you don’t figure something to do quickly, I’m going to find something for you to do.” After hearing this, we tried to figure out what we were going to as fast as we could. Because of other experiences, we knew that our mom would say something like, “Why don’t you sweep in the garage?” Finally, my brother thought of something we both agreed on; wiffleball. My mom and brother would be on a team playing against me, like we’ve always played. After that though, we ran into a problem. We usually used tennis balls when we played baseball in our backyard, but I hit them too hard and my family does not want to get hit by the balls I hit. “Well”, I suggest, we could use these balls,”. My mom and brother agreed, so we just used these hard, small, yellow, foam balls. My brother didn’t want to get hit, so he let my mom pitch to me. Whoosh. We could hear the foam ball through the air as the pitch sailed over my head. Ball one. Whoosh. The ball sailed over my head again. Ball two. Whoosh. Another ball. Whoosh. Way over my head for ball four. “C’mon Ripken, just pitch,” I say. He complied, saying, “Fine. I’ll pitch.” He wasn’t any better than my mom. He threw four straight balls. “Okay, let’s get some different balls,” my mom said. My brother and I agreed since neither one of them couldn’t hit the strike zone. Then, we got squishy foam
balls. My mom, watching my brother and I get the different balls, says, “Those balls won’t be any different than the other ones.” We used the balls anyway. It worked because my brother started throwing strikes and I started hitting the ball. My singles turned into doubles, triples, and homeruns though, because I would always end up moving up a base because of the rundowns I got into. Basically, I was just demolishing my mom and brother in this. Then the game changed when I had a 1-1 count. My brother gets ready to deliver the pitch and I get ready to hit it so hard that I get a homerun. I knew the wind was going to push the ball back, so I probably wouldn’t get a homerun. I thought swinging hard was worth a shot though, so when he threw the pitch, I swung for the fence. Pop! The ball lept off my bat and went sky high. I thought it had a chance to go over my family fence, so I just watched the ball in the air, still standing in the batter’s box. That’s when I saw the ball go over our fence. I had a flood of emotions run through me when I saw this. At first I was jumping for joy while trotting around the bases. Then I remembered that it was an out if it went over the fence, and we just lost a ball. After that, I felt guilty and a little mad at myself as my brother says, “Now we can’t play no more.” I think in my head, “I knew it, a Sandlot quote.” I say, “Sorry dude.” That’s when our wiffle ball game ended. From this experience, I figured out that maybe I shouldn’t hit the balls that hard, or I should just hit from the left side. But hey, at least I hit a homerun!