Creative Writing The Missed Fly Ball Term paper

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Creative Writing: The Missed Fly Ball


It was only a fly ball, but I missed it. I missed a fly ball in the final

baseball game my 3rd grade year . It was a beautiful day, a few clouds covering

the extremely blue summer sky. It was very hot. I remember this because of the

tremendous amount of sweat that would run down my face while I stood out in

right field. When I heard that crack of the bat, all I could hope for was that

the ball would not come my direction. I have never had good luck, so the ball

was coming right for me. I didn't even have to move, all I did was put my glove

in the air and again hope it hit my glove. It did hit the glove but bounced

right out and behind me. Now all there was to do was pick up the ball and throw

it. It was not this simple for me. I turned around, bent down for the ball,

and after the third try successfully grabbed it and stood back up and prepared

to throw. Well the first thing that came to mind was just to fling it up in the

air and hope it makes it to somebody around the base runner. Considering my

previous luck, I just threw it to the first basemen. The throw was not any

better then the catch. It landed 5 feet short and by the time the first basemen

recovered the runner had rounded third base and was at least halfway home. The

runner did score on a close play at the plate. The run gave the other team a

two run advantage going into the sixth inning, which was the last in midget

league. I knew at this point I was going to have a hard time facing the other

guys on the team after this big let down. It also made me decide to quit

baseball all together. Since quitting baseball at such a early age I missed on

the opportunity to take part in what could have, at one time, been considered

America's Pastime.


Once a few years later I started to learn how to play basketball for the first

time. It was just a few friends and myself down at the park shooting hoops. I

wasn't terrible, considering I had never really played before. We played a few

games of Horse and a few other simple shooting games. I wasn't the best but I

wasn't always last. I was doing good until someone suggested we play twenty-one.

I was okay with the decision, but I had a gut feeling that I wouldn't do well.

It sparked my fear of putting myself in that vulnerable position, that leaves me

open for embarrassment and ridicule. The idea of missing another fly ball or

mispronouncing a word in front of anybody else makes me cringe. Living in

reality as it is, I have come to accept that a totally sheltered life is not

possible and that I will make mistakes and have to live with them. This game

required me to dribble the ball and run and shoot. The game had to many things

to do all at once. Out of no where John looks at me a yells, "Here Cliff you

break the ice." And he threw me the ball. I was so nervous I could not even

catch the ball. But then I had to ask, "Where do I shoot from?" I got all kinds

of strange looks, and John looked at me and said, "From the top of the key."

And I get this real blank look on my face letting every-one know that I was

totally clue less. I remember hearing "Give me the ball," and "Shoot the ball."

Dan said, "Just go to the foul line and shoot the ball." And that is...

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