The Legend

Crack! That’s all I remember hearing before I took off for first base. The ball was way out there, when I saw it go past the center fielder I knew I could make it to second base. I dug my cleats into the hard dirt and pushed on. By the time I got to second, the fielder had the ball. A double wasn’t enough for me so I pushed on for third base! Just about the same time I was reaching the base, so was the ball. I slid and aimed for the inside of the bag. I got right under the tag. I looked up to the Umpire just as he said “SAFE!” Everyone in the bleachers stood up to cheer. I stood up to dust of my pants. It was close, but I got my triple!
It was like this almost every time I played! I loved the sport it was everything to me. After the games I would go home and shower then looks for something to eat. My social life was slim to none, I was either playing or practicing baseball and on days I couldn’t I was lifting weights. I did everything I could to be the best. That’s all I ever wanted to be, the best. I wasn’t a huge kid I stood about 5’11, but I was dedicated and people noticed it. Scouts watched me at just about every game I played. Offers came flying in left and right. One thing everyone always noticed was the way I got down on myself. Every loss, every mistake in a game, I always found a way to make it my fault. Winning was everything to me, and I would accept nothing less. I would hear from my mom after a loss, “It’s not your fault honey. It happens to the best of them.” But it wasn’t acceptable to me! I had big dreams for myself; I wanted to go to UCLA to play college baseball. Unfortunately, that was one of the schools I had not received an offer from. It was my dream and I wouldn’t let it away.
That’s when it began I started working extra hard. I put more hours into training than I ever had before. I was lifting almost every other day, plus at the batting cages like it was my home. In a way it was, Baseball was my life and the diamond was my temple. I worked the rest of the season and it seemed to help. But not enough, I was still making mistakes and needed to improve. For the rest of the off-season, I pushed myself. Doubling the amount of work I had already put in. I was basically social outcaste, the only time I ever saw a friend was at school or at a game. Honestly, I didn’t have time for friends. With school work and baseball, even my family time was cut to a minimum. This went on for the rest of the offseason and I was ready for Senior year!
It was that time again. My favorite time of year, the beginning of baseball season! Practices started and the coach could tell I had improved, because of how built I was after the off-season. One day the coach even came up to me and asked I had been using Steroids.
I laughed and replied, “No Coach, just a lot of hard work.”
He smiled and then nodded said, “Nice work!”
It felt good knowing that people noticed my hard work. I knew my work had not been a waste. In practice, I was a machine. I was tracking down fly balls in center field and blasting just about every ball I got a hold of. I knew this was going to be my year and it all started with the first game. We were playing the Hawks. They were a small school from across the river, but they weren’t half bad. In all honesty though, their whole team revolved around their star pitcher, Bryan Johnson. He was a tall, scrawny kid with an attitude, but he could bring the heat! He was the only kid our age I knew that could pitch a fast ball 90mph. It was truly amazing, it scared most of my teammates, and honestly, even I a little bit. But that didn’t mean I wasn’t going to at least try to blast it! The game started out slow. In the top of the 1st inning we were only able to get a few hits off of Bryan. When it was their turn to bat they got on base only once with an error from are second baseman. I was currently batting 5th in the lineup. By the second inning, it was my time to shine. I grabbed my helmet and batting gloves and took my walk to the plate. I noticed that our number four batter, Marty Goodson, had managed to get a nice double. This meant I had a batter to knock in. I took my place in the batter’s box and eyed down the pitcher. I got in rhythm, took my step, and just as the ball was in front of the plate, I swung.”Strike!” I looked back at the umpire. I wondered how I missed that ball. It was right there!
“Nice cut Alan! He got you on the curve ball.” I heard Coach yell from the fence.
At that point I felt ready to hit off this kid. The next pitch was a fast ball on the inside corner of the strike zone. It was too fast for me and I was late on it. I made contact, but it was fouled out of play, I was in the hole 0-2. The next two pitches were junk balls on the outside. He was trying to make me chase for the hit. I was patient and smart. The next ball he threw was a fast ball. I saw it coming. I took my step and eyed down the ball. I had timed it perfectly. “SMACK!” the ball went flying. I took off for first. It was going over the fence, I was sure of it. Just then, the umpire said “Out!” Surprised, I looked to the outfield to see the left fielder had made an amazing, jumping catch. I couldn’t believe it! I had to admit it was a good play, so I turned around and jogged off the field.
For the rest of the game I was unable to focus. I kept thinking of that play and all the things I could have changed to avoid getting out. That right there was my problem. I couldn’t stop thinking of the mistakes I made. Everyone would tell me to shake it off, but I couldn’t. If it wasn’t perfect, it wasn’t good enough for me. We went on to win the game. As we were all leaving the dugout, I heard coach yell, “Hey Alan, hustle over here!”
“Be right there Coach!” I replied. I threw the rest of my stuff into my bag and jogged over.
“What happened out there tonight Alan?” Coach asked.
“I’m sorry. I just wasn’t focused. It won’t happen again” I replied.
“Now we both know that’s a lie. It happens every time you slip up or something doesn’t go your way in a game.” Coach said considerately.
“I just can’t get the thought of the play out of my head. It’s a curse!” I answered.
“Or a gift” he said then turned away to his car.
I thought a lot about what coach said for the next week or so. How could over thinking ever be a gift? Then it hit me. If I can remember everything about every play, why not use it to learn? I started thinking. Yeah, every game isn’t going to be perfect but if I put in my honest best there’s nothing else I can do. So I focused on the problems I had in the games before and fixed them. It helped. For the rest of the regular season, I only got better. I noticed more and more scouts showed up to each game. It wasn’t until the semi finals that the scout I wanted came. The scout for UCLA! I was so excited and what a perfect game! We were playing the Hawks again; I had earned me way up to the fourth batting spot. It was just a matter of time before I can show the scout what I had. I had the perfect chance to do so at the end of the game.
There were two runners on base with one out. The Hawks had their closing pitcher, Eric Flubbernuat, in. He wasn’t bad, just not nearly as good as their starting pitcher, Bryan Johnson. I stepped into the batting box and looked right at him. I could tell he was nervous. One long hit and this game was over. The first pitch came in wild and way over my head. I stepped back and waited until he was ready to pitch again. The next one was on the inside corner and a called strike. I was ready for the next one, and it came. He was trying to catch me off guard with a steaming fastball. Just as it was in front of the plate, I met it with the barrel of the bat. Blast! That ball was gone, and so were their chances of winning! A walk off homerun! It felt good to win the game. I had conquered my problem and by doing so we won the game. We were going to the finals, but I was more worried about that scout. As my mom and I where leaving the fields, I heard a voice. “Alan Mountain, how would you like to come play for UCLA?”
I turned around to see it was the scout. I simply replied “Yes!”