When I was seven, I hit my first homerun. It was a sunny day, not too hot and not too cold. I was at Athens. We were winning by a lot, but it wasn’t my best game. T had gotten on base once and I had batted four times. It was the last inning, and I was up first. I was kind of mad but happy at the same time. I swung and missed the first two pitches. Then the pitcher threw three balls. I had one more pitch. I swung and it went foul. Now I was ready. I swung, it flew to the fence. I took off for first. Then I rounded second and third. I was almost there, and they threw the ball, but I beat it. That was the day I hit my first homerun.