PRE-SCHOOL FIELD DAY
When I was just in pre-school my competitiveness was already disrupting. I have always been eager. When the teacher called for us to line up, I raced to be the first in line, as I normally was.
Field day was always my favorite day of school growing up. The first field day I ever remember was a gorgeous, baby blue day late in June. One of the last events was coming up: the Homerun derby. I was one of the last to go. The goal was to hit Wiffle balls off the t-stand as far as you can, and each point varies on how far you hit the ball.
As I walked up to the t-stand, I was excited, I practiced this all the time- without the t-stand. I smacked my first swing like it was the last I would ever take. As I hit the ball, a huge group of motorcyclists went zooming by. All I could hear was loud engines roaring. Following that was loud screaming overpowering the engines. The Wiffle ball went over the fence right towards the motorcyclists! Everyone was shocked and impressed, which was my first ever memory of the crowd screaming, cheering, and in awe.
TRIPLE PLAY
I always had an imaginary memory growing up as a kid: something bad would happen and I would come in and save the day. I always observed a lot as a young kid, which helped me to make sense of situations through my own opinion. I was very aware of my surroundings, which also helped me to have pretty quick reflexes. I remember being so aware of things around me at a point, that my friends would try and scare me and I would catch the act before it ever even happened.
Anyways, I am grateful for my quick reflexes, as they were noticed pretty early on as a child. Late spring when I was at the age of nine or ten I had a softball game one evening. I was playing shortstop. I picked up sports pretty easily, understanding the concept and rules at a rather quick rate.
Bases were loaded and we had zero outs. As our pitcher wound up to pitch the ball, I focused in on the ball ready to move where it went. As the batter swung, she hit a pop fly near by me; one out. I caught the ball and the runner on second base forgot to tag up. I tagged her; two outs. As I looked at the third base runner, she was running back to her bag to tag up. I sprinted over to third base as fast as I could and touched the bag before her; three outs. Jaws were dropped and the crowd was screaming and cheering. My coach ran onto the field screaming, picked me up and twirled me in circles.
As a nine year old, no one ever really expected something so advance. I truly just had a passion. I was competitive and I always has so much fun playing any game.
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