"Baseball personal narratives" Essays and Research Papers

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    Over the summer we went to Nashville‚ Memphis and Notre Dame for baseball tournaments. While at Notre Dame we visited the campus and saw touchdown Jesus while taking a tour of the football field. Also after the tour we had a game on their field‚ the entire field was turf. As you walked into their complex you heard the popping of the catcher’s mitt from the pitch that came in around 80 mile per hour. As well as the crack from the wood bats as the players made solid contact For our first tournament

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    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

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    Baseball Growing up‚ baseball was everything to me. I watched every single diamondbacks game growing up and learned something new every game. I first started playing at the age of five on a little league team with seven of my best friends. We were inseparable. We practiced together‚ went to school together and all lived in the same neighborhood. We all aspired to one day win a state championship for our high school. Suddenly we didn’t come to the field expecting to win. We came to the field expecting

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    Baseball Narrative Essay

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    The white baseball came soaring in and WHACK. “You alright Ryan.” The red thick liquid poured out of Ryan’s nose and then he grows weak. Before he knows it he’s on the ground blacked out. Ryan’s eyes open and sees his mom but extremely blurry. “Mother” Ryan says and then closes his eyes again. “We need a doctor now get us in right away” the blood is pouring out of Ryan’s nose and Ryan feels so weak and lightheaded like never before. It’s been a week since the injury and Ryan is depressed. All the

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    two things in my household were certain: mathematics and baseball. Being the son of a mathematics and statistics professor‚ the subjects themselves were never in short supply; however‚ it was not the immediate exposure of statistics that instilled my love for the science; it was baseball. Every summer‚ my dad was the coach for the legion baseball team‚ and when I myself was not playing‚ I helped keep the book for my dad’s team. Baseball is one of those sports that is incredibly statistics driven

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    An experience that has helped to shape my life was an incident I had with a pro-baseball player during the 2012 and 2013 baseball seasons. According to my viewpoint‚ the conflict started after we were assigned to our respective leagues for that season. I started observing that “the player” (name that I would use to identity and protect the person’s identity) did not want to follow the strength and conditioning program as the rest of his teammates. ‘The player’s” behavior had several implications:

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    In my town’s Little League‚ everyone gets a trophy and a high five from the coach. When I decided to try out for my high school’s baseball team‚ I had the mindset of Little League: you show up and you play. I arrived at tryouts wearing my school baseball hat. I hadn’t trained over the winter‚ but because sports are relatively non-competitive at my school‚ I felt confident I would make the team. On the last day of tryouts‚ my coach called my name. “I don’t have room for you on my team‚” he said.

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    the summer of 2014 when I was the starting pitcher and third hitter for the Drexel Hill Little League tournament team. Now‚ baseball is america’s pastime and in my words is the greatest sport on god’s green earth. A little background on the sport is it’s a game of nines. Nine starting players on each team try to score as many runs in nine inning by hitting a nine inch baseball coming in at an average speed of ninety miles per hour. This leaves the batter with about .16 Seconds to react to the pitch

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    When I Learned to Play Baseball Shww! the door flew open “Hurry Aidan get ready for baseball‚” Mom yelled‚ “you’re going to be late.” I didn’t want to be late. It is only my first game and I would’ve already had a bad impression to my coach. Dad said‚ “You don’t want to be late for baseball‚ now do you?” “No why would I?” so I ran to my room. My room was so bright from the sun I had to squint my eyes. I put my stuff on. I could hear my brother yelling at my dad‚ it sounded like he was complaining

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    a common saying “Don’t judge a book by its cover.” Special or sentimental things are not always shiny and new. One thing that is special to me is my grandpa’s toy chest. It is special to me because it has his old baseball glove‚ his toy top and his football in it. Grandpa’s baseball glove is important to me because it was the only one he ever owned. His fathered fashioned the leather himself. My grandpa used that glove all his life and never bought a new one. The glove was passed down to my father

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