The Curveball Called Life by Sarah

The Curveball Called Life by Sarah - February 2017 Scholarship Essay

April 10th, 2015. Bottom of the seventh inning. The score was 9 to 10, and we were down by one. We already had two outs and I was up to bat. I take a deep breath. Then take five more. I walk out on the field, with one last look to my coach to get the sign to swing away.
Alright Sarah you got this.
I timidly walk up to the plate and tap my bat on my cleats trying to stall to get my confidence up. Okay you’ve wasted enough time hurry up.
I line myself up in the box and look to the pitcher. As she spits a sunflower seed on the mound I see nothing but pure confidence. She starts the motion and the second the ball leaves her fingertips I grip my bat tighter and swing at this perfect pitch.
“Strike one.”
Oh my god Sarah get it together. I hear my teammates cheer me on in an attempt to regain confidence. “Come on you’re right under it” says my coach as she motions with her hands. I walk back up to the box. Again, make eye contact with the pitcher, letting her know I’m ready. I take another swing.
“Strike two.”
Come on you idiot just hit the ball. I’m panicking. I look to see my teammate on third base just waiting to make the winning run. If I would just hit the ball. Last chance. Now or never. The ball is in motion. I swing my bat with immense force.
“Strike three.”
I immediately hear the other team storm the field. There is celebration in the air, people are cheering, teammates are hugging, and I am paralyzed in the same spot still standing at the batter’s box knowing I was the reason our team was not going to the state finals. I look around, and in our dug out there is pure devastation. All those early morning practices were for nothing. All those Saturday training days were for nothing. All this time and energy we spent into this sport was for nothing because I couldn’t deliver.
“Girls, come huddle up,” says coach.
We do as she says and sluggishly make our way to her. We keep walking until the sounds of excitement and joyous celebration is only a background noise.
She says to us “Listen up girls, I want you each to know how proud I am in all of you. You all fought till the very end, cheering each other on, and making each other better. I’ve had the opportunity to watch you all grow into beautiful young ladies and I am honored to have known each of you special girls. We might not have won the game, but you have gotten something far greater. You have discipline. You have drive. You have integrity. And you have respect.”
I was speechless after our huddle. Our coach is not an emotional person, but after hearing her talk about how highly she thought of us, it was eye opening. The game has shaped us into the people we are today, and I could not be more grateful to play with this team and wouldn’t trade them for anything, even a trophy. This day I made a vow to myself that I would never let the fear of striking out keep me from playing the game.