was bundled up, ready to play. Getting all set with my glove and face mask. I got this, I’m the best today. Someone started to talk to me...I believe it was my coach, what did he say?
Oh gosh… Catcher? Are you kidding me? I’ve never really done this before! I remember playing catcher in tee ball- it wasn’t that extreme. My grandpa and a variety of my family members have won awards for their position as guess what...a catcher. I wanted to carry it on, since my brother isn’t a big sports guy, nor are my cousins who are my age. In tee-ball, if I missed a ball, it wasn’t a big deal, but now, it is a huge deal. I needed a lot more confidence and strength to do my job right.
So, you know that feeling of nervousness, when your stomach aches so bad, you can barely walk, or do anything? That’s how I felt.
In the game, one by one, each player on the opposite team scored. No strong defense or encouragement. Our coach just shrugged, and he couldn’t watch the ball anymore. The pitch was either too high or too low. Dirt swept in my eyes when the ball just rolled. I slowly grabbed the ball each time I heard the umpire yell, “Ball four, take your base!” or “Dead ball!”
Our team is a good team, I thought. Why is this happening to us?
Kiaya, our pitcher, knew she wasn’t doing well; her lips bent together and her eyes closed, tears streamed down her cheeks and into her hands. That made the ball even more slippery. At that moment, she started to cry.  I was aching while squatting in the most uncomfortable situation ever. 
I kept hearing my mom’s voice whispering,
“Help her. Call time.”
She was sitting behind the backstop, watching me with caution and concern.
“Time!” I yelled.
“Time!” the umpire repeated.
I slowly jogged to the pitcher's mound while my gear jingled like bells on santa’s sleigh. I looked around as the silence grew. I felt a gentle tap on my back, and when I turned around, there was my coach, smiling. I knew I did something nice.
“Kiaya, everything is alright, just think of the determination you have! And if I was up there, oh boy, I’d be worse, so don’t worry, practice makes perfect!” I exclaimed.
I believed in Kiaya and I told her that. When I did, she smiled and wiped her tears and with a greatly appreciating voice, she says, “Thank you, Anabella.”
My coach made a pitching change. The crowed cheered as Kiaya ran into the dugout.
The remainder of the inning and throughout the game went pretty well. We started to slow down their players and develop a comeback. The score reached to a tie and into overtime. One of their players hit a home run which grew two more runs. The score un-tied the game and we lost against Grandville. They are a very good, well prepared team, who were our biggest competitors. The final score was 14-16.
I slowly dragged my feet in the scratchy, brown, dusty dirt.  My head stayed pointed to the ground. Our team normally runs out to left field to have a meeting after every game, but no one did. Everyone left the field and went home. As I said before, Grandville is our biggest competitors and they win against us every single time!
As we got into the car, my mom drives off with a grunt:
“I can’t stand them, even the coaches!”
I giggled a little bit, but not too loud because she’d get mad at me. We arrived at my house and I thought for a little bit while I stepped into the hot, steamy shower, while water dripped down my back and the room filled with clouds of steam.
It came to me that It wasn’t so much the part of playing a new position that changed me, but it was the amount of time I spent with my team. I also helped someone who I was very close with. I left all the worries behind and didn’t focus on the position I really wanted to play, 3rd base. I learned that I grew to know that helping someone is ok;  learning new obstacles which could be challenging, makes a perfect start to a new change.