Undergraduate / "love the game of baseball" - Issue of importance [4]

Prompt: Choose an issue of importance to you and write an essay in which you explain the significance of that issue to yourself.

It's scratchy, yes, I know. But that's why i'm asking for ya help! Does it attract you? Hold your attention? Is the grammar correct? Thanks Much!

Here I am in the middle of the action. The sun has finally ducked behind the horizon making way for a nice cool evening. The monotonous and continuous chirp of hundreds of grasshoppers invisible in the forest behind the field can be heard. The indistinct cries of parents trying to encourage their talented offspring sounds only like rambles to those on the field. In a word, the ball park is quite rambunctious . Yet I feel as if I am alone under God's black sky. I have a job to do and must keep focus. I wouldn't trade the experiences I've had in baseball for anything. My attachment to the game has not only given me a new drive to excel at what I do but has also taught me that through hard work and perseverance, any obstacles can be overcome.

It's amazing how I've grown to learn and love the game of baseball if one considers my earliest years playing it. I was granted my first experiences simply because I wanted to play another sport while I waited for football season to roll around; the sport I thought I was superb at. When I stepped out on the field for the first time, there was no nervousness about me. Not because of my confidence though, but because I didn't know what in the world I was doing. By the end of the day the expression on my coach's face was enough to clearly depict how my day went at that practice. I missed easy groundballs through my legs and dropped routine pop flies . I even was forced to stop practice to get the ants that were biting my leg. But it wasn't just this one practice; my performance that whole year was terrible. As for the rest of the year, though, those memories now are but dust in the wind for I've chosen not to bring them to my recollection .The old faithful saying "practice makes perfect" continued to prove itself true.

After a while my game began to improve. Unfortunately, for one reason or another, as time went by, my enjoyment of the sport ebbed. But, fortunately, my dad continued to enjoy the game of baseball and forced me to continue to play. Ironically enough, when he left on a five month business trip, I excelled at the game more than I had ever before. After some time, the game kind of grew on me and once I got to high school, I even began to enjoy playing. This was a needed change because of the great adversity I was about to face. Entering into high school, I knew I was good. But how good I thought I was still superseded how good the coaches thought I was. Yet, I did not let this effect how I played.

At my school, it has been a repetitive disadvantage that skilled, black baseball players have had an unequal experience playing under the coaches. I began to feel this effect taking place not even half way through the season. The feeling is that of a peculiar one because you know the coaches appreciate you as a skilled player but they do not appreciate you as a person. Being an immature freshman, I began to form an ill attitude toward these coaches which I learned has formed the basis on why I've remained on the Junior Varsity team so long and been cast off from being moved up to varsity. Heading into my junior and now my senior year, despite my attitude improvements, I've had to hold on to my enjoyment of the game as an incentive to keep playing despite the unfair treatment by the coaches.

The game is nearing its end and my team is down. Everyone is holding on to their seats as I step up to the plate with a runner on third base and two outs. The first pitch is thrown. Ball; Low and outside. As the pitcher receives the ball from the catcher and recollects himself, I do the same as I take a deep breath and reenter the batter's box. The next pitch comes. Before anyone has a chance to think twice about the outcome, the ball is already flying toward the left field fence and I'm circling the bases. The tying run comes in and I'm standing on second base feeling completely fulfilled, like I've made my contribution to the team. There is no going back in time to change my past experiences in high school though I wish there were. But, that is not going to change how I play and the effort that I choose to put in. I must "keep on keepin' on" only hoping that the cream will rise to the top and I will one day get my chance to shine. Many wouldn't dare to continue on the road I've taken. Others might scoff because I haven't decided to quit. One thing I have learned in the many experiences in my life: if I set my mind to do something, in order to succeed in it, I must get at it with all vigor as hard as I am physically and mentally able. No matter what sport, hobby, or activity I choose, the doubters will always find their way around, there will be things that set me back, and there will be obstacles in the road. But that is not going to change what my mind is focused on. That is not going to alter how I approach my duties and responsibilities. If I want to succeed at anything I do I must work hard at everything I do until it is accomplished. As Babe Ruth once said "it's hard to beat a person who never gives up"

Undergraduate / 'blind to many of the things' - someone who has made an impact on my life [18]

"Get in the room!" Oh! That dreadful call that forewarned me of a brief, yet painful experience. Doing anything from writing on the walls to hitting my sister would be followed by one of these experiences. After hearing those four dreadful words, I would slowly follow my dad into The Room with my eyes focused on the back of his head. As ritual, I would position myself beside my parent's bed. The time it took as I watched my dad disappear into the closet to get the belt felt like the longest thing I had ever waited on in my entire life. It was often that I went through this process in which I loathed. However, nowadays, these spankings do not bring sorrow to my heart. However, they have brought to me a responsible attitude and gratefulness for the man who I am now proud to call my father; the man who refused to let me be a rotten kid. Because of the man who he is, I now am able to understand his immeasurable wisdom and incomparable determination to do what is right. I admire my father for the lengths he will go to in order to help me and teach me what is right and how he efficiently carries out his responsibilities.

As a child, I was blind to many of the things he did to help me. For example, when I started playing baseball in a League not too far away from my house, I was terrible. My dad took out time in his day to spend countless hours with me either in the backyard or at the baseball field. Those practices with my dad taught me the basics of the game and in essence have paved the way for me to become an outstanding baseball player. I can now proudly say that instead of spending a lot of money trying to increase my skill by playing on select baseball teams, I've become a skilled player simply by training with my father. The Bible says in Proverbs 13:1: "A wise son heeds his father's instruction, but a mocker does not listen to rebuke." Not a day goes by where my dad does not try to share some of his wisdom with me. I choose to listen to this Bible verse and heed my father's instruction, whether he's helping me learn the basics of the game of baseball, teaching me valuable tips on heating up a can of chili, or helping me set up a study routine to score higher on the SAT test. His wisdom, in almost any topic, is so deep that what he is saying should not be taken lightly and I would only be doing myself a disservice if I chose to disregard the advise of my dad

Why, some time ago, after I had returned from an outing, I heard his voice calling my name. The moment was intense. "What could he be calling me for?" I asked myself. No more must I wonder where he is calling from for he can always be found in the same room. The issue of importance that afternoon was not convicting, but demanding. He talked to me about reading, he talked to me about writing, he talked to me about studying; it was all about college. But the true meaning of why he called me into his room came out as I neared the end of my visit. "A man needs a conviction" he told me. "You have to find what you believe in and pursue it no matter what." This may not sound very motivational to the average person, but he knew, when he said it, that it would speak to me, deeply. This is why I have made him my role model. I watch him, day by day, put countless hours into completing his responsibilities which creates the basis of why I respect him so much. Aside from the fact that he is, of course, my dad. Every morning, when I wake up, I find him sitting in his office taking care of another piece of business needing to be dealt with. I can't think of a time when I've seen my dad do something without reason. Everything he does is credible and everything he says is meaningful. What I am required to do is listen to what he is saying and take hard nosed action on it .

These days I find it much easier to get along with my father. Not because I have become accustomed to his lectures nor because I enjoy them, but after going through a few phases of maturity I can now look past any shortcomings he has and focus on grasping the message that he is trying to convey. Now that I look back over the years, I realize that my dad wasn't doing too much. He was doing just enough. Unlike the children in many households, the children in his house were not heavy troublemakers. My sister and I were and still are well behaved and I believe we have come very close to what he has trained us to be. I am grateful for the new perspective that I have recently began to view my dad through. When I look at him I see a responsible, organized, wise man. The many times that I've caught myself repeating something he has said or doing something he has done has caused me to believe that I have picked up some of these characteristics through him and I hope to lead my future household with the same manner of discipline, instruction, and wisdom in which my father has lead his own. Though I've been able to show you a bit of how life is with my dad, the things that I continue to learn through a relationship with my father are simply too many for words.

BE AS MEAN AS YOU NEED TO!!! PLEASE CRITIQUE!!!