I believe in America’s Pastime. I believe in the crack of the bat, the smell of the fresh cut grass, and the constant yelling of profanities. I believe in baseball. People like Babe Ruth, Jackie Robinson, Mickey Mantle, and Yogi Berra who have made the game what it is today aren’t just famous baseball players, they are also great influences in American history. Without baseball, this country would not be what it is today.
Baseball is not like some other sports. It is different because it requires finesse and intelligence in every aspect. Before every single pitch each fielder has to think to themselves the same two questions. What am I going to do if the ball gets hit to me, and what am I going to do if the ball doesn’t get hit to me. The constant thinking of every player makes the game interesting. Its not just about physical mistakes, its about mental ones. Whichever team can make fewer mistakes can win the game.
But baseball is not just a sport. It is a way to bring people together to fight for a common cause: their team’s victory. It is a vacation from a day at work. It is bonding time between a father and child. Sometimes something as small as a day spent at the ballpark can do wonders for someone. I remember my first professional baseball game. The night before I was a mess. At the age of 11 I knew that the following day would be something I would remember forever. I picked out my favorite outfit complete with a Yankee’s hat and glove and lay in bed anticipating the events of the next day. Before I knew it I was being woken up at 6am for the 3-hour drive to Yankee Stadium. When we finally arrived I saw some of the craziest people I had ever seen. I just wanted to find my seat and watch the game. Every where I looked I saw Yankee’s jerseys and heard people yelling things that an 11 year old should not be hearing. When we finally found our seats, I looked out at the field. I couldn’t take my eyes off of the fresh cut grass, and all of the players preparing for the game. When the time finally came for the game to start, my blood was flowing. The first batter stepped up to the plate and the pitcher delivered the ball. All of the sudden I heard what would come to be my favorite sound in the world: the crack of the bat hitting the ball. I don’t remember where the ball was hit, if it was a foul ball, or even if the batter had been called out, but I do remember the roar of the crowd and the way I felt that day. Since then I have been a die-hard baseball fan. I believe in baseball.
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