Any criticism would be beneficial. It's due on the 15th and I need someone to help read through and point out whatever flaws they can find.
Here is my essay:
Horror struck the faces of the crowd as the object struck her face. My body froze as a gasp escaped my lips. I stared at this pile of flesh and bones covered in the flowing red liquid. It was my fault silence had filled the air only to be broken by the screaming sirens of the ambulance. It was my bat that had swung and sent the ball whizzing into her face at an unstoppable speed. I was the reason her body lay limp surrounded by paramedics discussing her multiple facial fractures. The intensity that is apparent in each second you spend on a softball field is where I find myself to feel utterly content.
As I approach the batter's box, my mind flees from the world. I allow myself to feel peace in this simple competition between the pitcher and I. The extraneous factors may put a pressure on me, but my confidence has been boosted by endless hours spent working for this moment. While analyzing my previous failures, instead of letting it become detrimental to my confidence, I embrace my failures as motivation. Instead of giving up, I put every ounce of resentment into one swing. The stands erupting in praise as you connect with the ball sending it over the fence and winning your team the game is nominal in comparison to the uncontrollable smile produced by the feeling of fulfillment. This game winning hit is a rare occurrence and I commonly find myself having an unproductive at bat. When I don't have superior performance in my at bats, I simply analyze my batting average. In the eyes of society, a successful batting average is a .300, this means you can fail 70% of the time and still be perceived as an auspicious batter. In most situations, such a ludicrous failure to success ratio would be given a negative connotation, but as a softball player I take my minimal chance for achievement as motivation to work harder to increase the productivity to make the aberrant events more likely to occur.
Being content at a softball field, to continue, has always been more than just the hard work paying off. When I step onto the field, I join all who have played before to make the sport great and I play for those who have yet to find the joy of softball. Growing up, I spent most of my time observing those who helped make softball a worldwide game, and have strived to represent the game in such a way that I would inspire the next generation of players. This goal of mine was met when my coach's niece walked up to the field wearing the jersey of her first ever softball team with the number 37 printed on the back. I was intrigued as to why this girl, who had a family history of softball players, had chosen my number. After congratulating her about making her first team, my coach pulled me aside to tell me that she had told her father that she picked my number because she wanted to be as good as me. Seeing that I had inspired someone the same way I was when I looked up to those who came before made me feel complacent.
Of all locations, I have yet to find anywhere that contents me like a softball field, because it has pushed me to be all that I can be in all aspects of my life and allowed me to benefit something greater than myself.
I think your introduction displays your excellent writing and description abilities, but to me it seems out of place that you talk about an injury as a lead-in to where you feel most content. I would suggest starting out with imagery of a home run or some other happy part of softball if you are writing about being content.
Horror struckfilled the faces of the crowd as the object struck her face. My body froze as a gasp escaped my lips. I stared at this pile of flesh and bones covered in the flowing red liquid. It was my fault silence had filled the air only to be broken by the screaming sirens of the ambulance. It was my bat that had swung and sent the ball whizzing into her face at an unstoppable speed. I was the reason her body lay limp surrounded by paramedics discussing her multiple facial fractures. The intensity that is apparent in each second you spendt on a softball field is where I find myself to feel utterly content.
As I approach the batter's box, my mind flees from the world. I allow myself to feel peaceful in this simple competition between the pitcher and Ime. The extraneous factors may put a pressure on me, but my confidence has been boosted by endless hours spent working for this moment. While analyzing my previous failures, instead of letting it become detrimental to my confidence, I embrace my failures as motivation. Instead of giving up, I put every ounce of resentment into one swing. The stands erupting in praise as you connect with the ball, sending it over the fence and winning your team the game is nominal in comparison to the uncontrollable smile produced by the feeling of fulfillmentfulfilment. This game- winning hit is a rare occurrence and I commonly find myself having anbeing unproductive at bat. When I don't have superior performance in my at bats, I simply analyze my batting average. In the eyes of society, a successful batting average is a .300, this means you can fail 70% of the time and still be perceived as an auspicious batter. In most situations, such a ludicrous failure to success ratio would be given a negative connotation, but as a softball player I take my minimal chance for achievement as motivation to work harder to increase the productivity to make the aberrant events more likely to occur.
Being content aton a softball field, to continue, has always been moreto me than just the hard work paying off. When I step onto the field, I join all who have played before to make the sport great, and I play for those who have yet to find the joy of softball. Growing up, I spent most of my time observing those who helped make softball a worldwide game, and have strivedstriven to represent the game in such a way that I would inspire the next generation of players. This goal of mineMy goal was met when my coach's niece walked up to the field wearing the jersey of her first ever softball team with the number 37 printed on the back. I was intrigued as to why this girl, who had a family history of softball players, had chosen my number. After congratulating her about making her first team, my coach pulled me aside to tell me that she had told her father that she picked my number because she wanted to be as good as me. Seeing that I had inspired someone the same way I wasthat I had been inspired when I looked up to those who came beforeme made me feel complacent.
Of all locations, I have yet to find anywhere that contents mefills me with joy like a softball field does.because itSoftball has pushed me to be all that I can be in all aspects of my life and allowed me to benefit something greater than myself.
