An Individual Story about the Scariest Moment in My Softball Career

Last Updated: 17 May 2023
Pages: 6 Views: 182

When I woke up that morning, I had no idea that it would be, by far, the scariest moment of my life. I woke up bright and early to go to a tournament, at Drums Field with my team, Blaze. I got dressed and got in the car, pumped for games.

When we got there, I met up with my friend Lexi, and we walked hungrily over to the food stand. We ordered cheese fries to split and we each got a slushy. It wasn't the best field, or in the best shape, but a field is a field. There were four fields in use, they had old, cracked dirt and brown grass scattered erratically around the field. My team was on the fourth field, the furthest back. Half of my team was playing catch and the other half was batting either on a tee or onto the field.

As soon as I walked on the field, I froze. I was transitioning from my normal, crazy self, to an athletic beast with a thirst for blood. My catcher, Madisyn, was in her blue Mizuno catchers gear. She came up to me and told me that I would be pitching against the 14u Old Forge Blue Devils.

Order custom essay An Individual Story about the Scariest Moment in My Softball Career with free plagiarism report

feat icon 450+ experts on 30 subjects feat icon Starting from 3 hours delivery
Get Essay Help

"Kylie, are you ready to warm-up?" Madisyn said timidly.

"Come on Madisyn, get more pumped, or we have no chance at winning this game. You are our spark plug!" I said trying to motivate her.

"Kylie, let's go! We have to warm-up! I'll meet you in the bullpen!" She said a hundred times more confident in herself.

"There you go, haha, I'll be right there, but first let me unpack my bat bag in the dugout." I told her as I darted in the ratty old dugout.

I went to the bullpen to meet her. I threw fifty fastballs, twenty-five change ups, and twenty- five drop balls to warm up my arm for the game.

"Let's go girls! Game time!" shouted my dad, whom was also out co-head coach. He shouted out that we were the home team, along with our positions and batting order.

Innings went by in what felt like seconds. Before I knew it, it was the top of the fourth inning, and we were about to take the field. We were up by two runs, and I was excited that we were winning and eagerly pacing around the mound, preparing for Madisyn to get behind the dusty plate. The plate in which I call home. Once she got there, I threw three fastballs right down the middle of the plate. On the third pitch, she threw down to second base to mimic a throw down when someone was stealing second. Our shortstop, Brianna Pizzano, flipped the ball to our second basemen Lexi Felinski. Lexi threw the ball to our third basemen Bailey Loyack, and Bailey lightly tossed it to our first basemen, Alyvia Cook. She handed the ball to me, and we all highfived, hand, then glove. The inning has begun.

As the rest of my team gets in their position, I stand contemptly on the rubber, doing a few wrist snaps into my glove.

The first girl steps up to the plate. She is a petite girl who looked like she weighed about 90 pounds, standing at around 5"3". She had striking, long blonde hair, and looked like she had a firecracker light underneath her bottom. I shook the feeling out of my head and shouted loudly and clearly, "Watch the bunt!"

My dad yelled out, "Good call Kylie, infield in!"

I threw the pitch, and what do you know, it was the perfect bunt, directly down the first base line. I darted over as fast as I could to grab the ball. Once I got there, I dug the ball in the dirt, picked it up, and fired it to Alyvia. It was a close call. We waited... and waited...

"Out!" screamed the umpire.

I ran over to Alyvia to tell her that she made a huge play on our behalf. I walked back to the mound to continue the inning. I couldn't believe my eyes. The girl up to bat, towered over me, she had to weigh at least 155 pounds. I looked at my dad; he mouthed something to me as he gave Madisyn the sign for the next pitch I would throw. But I couldn't quite make out what he was trying to say. I stepped on the mound, and threw a drop on the inside corner. She swung at it, but she missed.

"Strike one!" yelled the chubby umpire behind the plate.

I threw the next pitch, which was a fastball on the outside corner. She watched it go by. "Strike two!" yelled the same umpire, as he held up the number two with his fingers.

I threw the final pitch, which was a change-up, on the inside of the left batter's box. It was a strike, but she swung a millennium too early and struck out. I was so petrified when I saw her walk to the plate, but I held my ground and pitched to the best of my ability and won in the end.

With two outs in the fourth inning, I was feeling very confident in myself. I thought, "I just struck out the biggest girl on their team, how hard can the rest honestly be?" I proved myself right when the next girl came up to bat. She was so tall and lanky, and she looked like she had nothing on her body besides skin and bone. I looked at Lexi and said, "Ready to go in and bat haha."

Lexi looked at me and gave me this look, almost as if she was disappointed in me for saying that. "Don't be too cocky Kylie; you still need to get us this final out."

I threw a drop on the inside corner and she swung and missed. I had to hold back my tears or laughter. I threw the next pitch and I didn't even try to locate it properly, because she was their ninth hitter, and I thought she stunk. But about five seconds after I threw the lackadaisical pitch, I immediately regretted not putting my all into the pitch. Before I even had time to put my glove in front of my face, she hit a missile back up the middle and hit me in the upper right side of my face mask. I didn't know how to react, or how to feel.

All I remember is falling to the ground in a puddle of tears. I remember my mom screaming out in horror, "Jeffery!" I don't think I was hurt as much hurt as I was scared. But my fear started to turn into pain. But all of that started to linger away when I felt familiar arms wrapping around me. I didn't even have to open my eyes to know that it was Madisyn. For about five seconds, it was just us two on the mound. But as my parents, my coaches, my teammates, and the other team's coaches gathered around me, I was unwillingly torn away from Madisyn's arms. Still in shock, I heard my mom say, "Kylie! Please say something."

I tried, but nothing came out, I tried, and I tried again. Eventually, the words, "Madisyn," came out in response to my mom's demand. Everyone stopped, and looked at her. They cleared a path for her to come to me. When she got there, she said something I will never forget. She said, practically choking on her tears, "Listen to me right now. You will be fine, as long as you want to be fine. But if you doubt yourself even the slightest bit, there's no saying what could happen."

I looked at her and said something as simple and sincere as, "I love you, thank you." I opened my eyes for the first time since it happened and I looked into her eyes and thought to myself, "I have the most wonderful best friend in the world." As I began to calm down and realize that everything was going to be okay, I thought about how I was acting like I was the queen of the diamond, and I was on top of the world. At that moment I realized that acting like that won't get me anywhere in school, on the field, or in life in general. But even more than that, I don't know where I would be or if I ever would've gotten over that moment if it wasn't for Madisyn acting so quickly and just knowing exactly what to say. For that, I will always love her.

Cite this Page

An Individual Story about the Scariest Moment in My Softball Career. (2023, May 17). Retrieved from https://phdessay.com/an-individual-story-about-the-scariest-moment-in-my-softball-career/

Don't let plagiarism ruin your grade

Run a free check or have your essay done for you

plagiarism ruin image

We use cookies to give you the best experience possible. By continuing we’ll assume you’re on board with our cookie policy

Save time and let our verified experts help you.

Hire writer