I remember walking through the halls of school on that first day of tryouts in a baseball daze. I was like a baseball zombie. I kept thinking about how I was going to do. Would I hit? How would I look? Would I trip over my uniform? Hello. I did not want to embarrass myself. After school was where the phase of the daze turned into the hits and the mitts.

“Okay start throwing the ball around.” I heard Mr Ginsburg say, as he strolled out of his office. The coach had spoken. It was time to get moving. My time to show em all what I had.

So I started playing catch. I was so excited to have a glove on and playing ball. The winter is always too long when you yearn to be playing baseball.

After tossing the pill around for a while it was time to hit. We had no pitching machine so we improvised. Now get this. The gym at Weequahic High had a regular sized basketball court. On both sides of the court there were two more basketball baskets. From each basket a rope was tied that hung to a height of my stomach. Attached to the end of the rope was a baseball. The rope went through the middle of the ball and out the other side of the ball. It was my job to hit the baseball into the mat that was positioned up against the wall, under the basket. The ball hung about two feet from the mat.

I was nervous as I heard the coach tell us what to do. So simple a Continue Reading