Eye on the Prize

The whole field went dead quiet. It was late in the game. The rain came down hard, and I could hear the eco in my ears from the rain pounding on my helmet. I held the bat in my hands. It felt heavier than before I had stepped up to the plate. I brought it up to my shoulders and took my batting stance. I adjusted my hand positions on the bat one more time out of nervousness, and then sent my gaze to the pitcher. We locked eyes in a silent agreement that we were both ready to continue the game.

The minute the pitcher brought the ball to her glove to start the pitch; it was like I couldn’t breath. I forced my self to keep my eyes on that dirt covered ball, no matter how heavy the bat got or how much my hands started to tremble. Every time I get up to the plate to hit I would feel like my eyes just couldn’t focus anymore causing me to get a strike. I was determined to not make that mistake this time. I put all my attention on the ball.

As my eyes were on the ball, I could see my bat out of the corner of my eye. The silver color of the bat and smooth black grip at the bottom. Its smooth, dirt covered texture always feels good in my hands. After being in the closet all the time, it loves to come out and play now and then, but I only use this bat at games and when I practice at home. The other bats don’t give me the same feeling as my bat does. Its exact weight is perfect for me, and I love to see the blue writing out of the corner of my eye, spelling the word “softball” right across it. The “S” in the word curves to look like a bat getting a hit and it gives me hopes that I can swing the bat just right.


The bat felt heavier than ever in my hands now. I felt like I had to use all my strength just to swing it around me at the precise time to hit the ball. I felt a zing from the bat that shocked my hands. It felt amazing to fell that zing for the first time, because that means I had hit the ball. My heart raced as people started to cheer. I threw the bat to the ground beside me and ran towards the white plate at first. I raced right around first, right to second at the command of me team captain. The ball was coming close to second, so I slid like ice right to the base.

My foot hit the base at almost the same time as the player at second brought their brown, dirt-covered glove, with the ball secured in it, to my leg. All my senses stopped. It was like there was no sound or sight in the world. All of a sudden there was only one thing I could see and hear. The ref. making the cut motions with his hands and yelling the best words a runner could hear. “Safe!” Right as I heard those words my senses came back and I could hear the whole crowd cheer. I looked over at my team in the dug out and saw my team captain. He had a huge grin on his face as he mouthed “good hit” to me. I always thought I could never hit a ball, until that day. The bat gave me hope that day. I think it was mainly the way the “S” looks like a bat is swinging and hitting the ball. So, from that day on I got better and better at not freaking out and just keeping my eye on the ball, because like the old saying goes “Always keep your eye on the prize!”





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