Crack! Smack! Pop! Are all of the sounds that are heard at any baseball field in America. Seven out of ten American children play a sport when they are young children. Three out of those ten kids play baseball. This number has slowly been decreasing over the years. Grady, my nine-year-old little brother, began playing baseball at the age of five. Personally, I believe it is awesome to see him striving to play baseball like me. In the four years he has been playing, he has gotten tremendously better than when he first stepped onto the baseball field, but I will never forget the first day he ever stepped on a baseball field.
On the day of Grady’s first baseball game, he recorded his first hit along with catching his first pop fly. atmosphere during Grady’s first game was nothing less than perfect baseball weather. Parents, grandparents, brothers,along with sisters were seen cheering on their little five- year- old play baseball. I stepped into the Crieve Hall baseball complex and it looked exactly as it did fifteen years ago. The fields were very well kept,also the grounds crew even still followed the opening day tradition that was to have the grass cut into a checkerboard.
The elegant look of fresh cut grass, the savory smell of ballpark ogs,as well as even the sound of cleats clanking across the concrete brought me back to the simpler times of playing baseball. When you are five there is no scholarship on the line or the fear of losing a starting job. You get to go outto genuinely enjoy the beautiful of baseball. Just playing for the pure joy of it, do is show up, spit sunflower, get dirty, and play with your friends. That was what I was looking forward to seeing Grady do, have fun.
This created the most glorious part of the day, and that I was going see my little brother begin his own baseball Before the game, the career. My little brother played for a team named the Crieve Hall Hurricanes, also their jerseys were dark blue with light blue lettering, which was accented by gray pants. Grady wore eye black, a sweat band, and a jersey with my number, eleven. He looked like a stud. The atmosphere was so ecstatic, mixed with anxious fans. The buzzing from of the all the people in the crowd created a very relaxed, but exciting ballpark.
I was truly excited to watch my little brother play as soon as I stepped into the park. Pregame was a very important part of the day as well. After taking the entire baseball park in I had memory to what it as like trying to catch a baseball for the first time, this was difficult for me. Trying to teach a beginner baseball players to catch a baseball is a lesson in itself, but to teach a the same player to catch a pop fly is an even more difficult task. It is not very graceful at first, but over time, a young ballplayer proceeds to grasp the hang catching the pop fly the play sooner or later becomes a can of corn.
Before the game, I was giving Grady pointers on how to catch a baseball with two hands rather than one, also when he started to catch a few baseballs back-to-back we moved onto pop flies. Grady did really well warming up and just playing catch. I could really tell he was trying so hard because his face was tensed, and he his brow was sweating profusely. Slowly, I began to toss him pop flies, but the very first one in the air tipped off his glove then fell straight to the grass. He just picked it up, excitedly tossed it back.
We did this for about ten minutes, and Grady missed every single pop up I threw him. Grady complained about the baseball being lost clouds. I did not envision that he would catch a single ball hit to him all day long. The sun gleamed high over the clouds, while he sky was very blue. You could hear the National Anthem being sung by a seven-year-old little girl ringing through the park. A home plate umpire brushes off the home plate, then yells play ball. Grady took off running towards third base.
All of the big, white, clouds that could have hindered Grady from catching balls earlier were now gone. Sunshine was high in the sky. There are two outs made back to back. The first batter grounded out to the second basemen, and then the second batter hit a pop up to the pitcher. The third batter was up, with a quick swing of the bat he Jackson 3 it a little, pop fly. The pop fly was flying right at Grady, and he had that same determined face that he had twenty minutes ago when he tried to catch pop-ups. He ran up three steps, then stuck out his glove, and the ball landed right in his mitt!
The look on his face was overjoyed, he looked over at my Dad and I then showed us the ball! I was so proud of him, and the sheer happiness on his face is what I loved the most. This out ended the inning and Grady headed into the dugout to get ready to hit. Every kid that has played baseball loved to do one aspect more than any other and that was to hit. The kids loved hitting more than drawing in the dirt infield or picking daisies in the outfield. Grady’s favorite part about playing baseball was to hit just like every other five years old.
He worked on it a few hours a week; with my dad before the season started all fall. Grady batted third, so that meant he was going to hit in the first inning of the game. The first two kids got up to bat and the first one hit a single right up the middle past the pitcher, who dove to his left to try and knock the baseball down, but the baseball squirted outside the reach of his glove. The next kid got up to bat and smacked the ball into the right-center gap. Then Grady walked up, and he looked really nervous.
The look of determination was in his eyes. The coach threw Grady the first pitch and he whiffed badly. He shook his head, tapped his toe with his bat, gave the plate a smack, and was ready to go once more. The next pitch was high so he took it. Reapeatedly he smacked the home plate, and stared the coach down. The coach wound up and threw the next pitch, and Grady swung with all his might. The next part was something that will never be forgotten because Grady smacked the ball! There was a loud ping, and the baseball went soaring into the outfield.
He was so shocked that he hit the baseball he just stood in the batter’s box, and watched the ball, forgetting to run. We directed Grady to proceed down the first base line, so from the stands us, along with the whole crowd of fans, to run! He was so ecstatic and took off running down to first base. The bleachers shook from where so many people had jumped up and down on them. Grady got to first base and gave everyone a thumbs up with a humongous grin on his face. I was so proud of him! I yelled his name, gave him a thumbs up right ack to him!
This was a day that I would never forget, because of the look on his face, and the thumbs up we gave each other. Grady is nine now and still playing baseball every year. He loves it more and more with his passion for the game getting stronger every year. He is getting better every day at catching a pop fly, and hitting the ball. The day my little brother caught his first pop up and got his first hit will be a day I will never forget. Grady’s reaction to when he caught these routine plays for me was priceless. I loved seeing the joy and happiness in his face after both of these feats.