The Cursed season

By
More by this author
Our baseball season wasn’t going so great as is, but to make everything worse. I was pitching in our game against Squalicum, and with no warning my shoulder made a distinct popping sound. I thought “ah I’m okay, that didn’t hurt at all” lying to myself hoping it would make me feel a little better. So with my flawless theory, I kept my mouth shut and got back up on the mound. With each pitch, it seemed that the pain increased exponentially, holding my shoulder after each pitch just trying to get out of the inning with two outs.

The thing about me is ever since I remember I never would tell the coach that my arm was in pain, and today was no different. I would have finished the inning but coach saw that I wasn’t looking so good and he knew that I never tell him when my arm hurts. I’m not sure if this is a good trait or a bad one but I’d have to say that in this case, it’s not the best. So I was told that I had to go see the doctor as soon as possible, so that’s exactly what I did since I’m such a responsible young adult. I was hoping it was just something small, and that’s in a way what I was told, that it would only be about a week and it’d be good as new. He called it bicep tendentious, and that means that I tore me bicep head in my shoulder.

So as I would sit in the dough out doing the score book just watching and thinking about baseball. The thought kept coming to my mind was that I feel fine just sitting here; I should be able to throw from center field to home again. The hard part has to tell yourself that you physically cannot do something that you have excelled in your whole life. So as I continued to think, the more I would have wanted to just scream and punch holes in walls, like at our game in Anacortes, on the ride home everyone was happy and bragging to all the girls about what they did in the game, and people always ask how I did in the game, and I just have to say that I didn’t play. And with every time that people ask me this question, it reminds me how much I miss playing.

Ever since I was a kid, I always just thought about being able to do something small like throwing a baseball was nothing special. But once you are not able to do something you were once so good at. So this goes for anything in life that people take for granted, like when people that have walked their whole life, and something tragic happens and the can never walk again. So I am thankful that I am able comeback next season and be better than ever, because my arm will be as strong as ever.





Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback