Creative Non Fiction Essay

My First Baseball Game

  Crack went the sound of the bat as the ball flew so effortlessly into the field in the green belt just
behind the home in which I grew up as a child. The neighborhood kids and I were playing baseball on a
beautiful fifty five degree late winter day in Colorado. I had just hit a towering homerun blast over the
younger kids playing in the outfield.   As I trotted around the bases with a sense of pride and a bit of ego I
remember thinking about how much I really loved this game. Although such a simple game as most
might think, it truly can be very complex as well. Some may think you just hit the bat with the ball and
run around the bases. But for me it was deeper than that. It was a true love for the game.
    Countless hours were spent in my back yard and in the field behind me practicing the game I loved so
much, the game of baseball.   It started with a tennis ball against the back wall of my brick house. I
would toss the ball against the brick wall to make diving grabs time and time again. As a young kid I
would dream that I was Cal Ripken Jr. saving the day and winning the World Series by making a play only
an All Star could make. My mother hated this though. For every hundred tosses against the brick wall
there would be one that would hit the window. “Stephen” she would yell out through the kitchen
window. “Take that ball out to the field because you’re going to break one of the windows out one of
these days!” Needless to say it worked as motivation for me to not hit the window but didn’t keep me
from playing ball against the house.
    It was another late winter day and my friend Danny had called me up to get another baseball game
going with the neighborhood kids. I had homework to do so told him to round everyone up and meet at
the field in forty five minutes. After struggling to get through my homework since my mind was so
anxiously awaiting to play, I finally completed it and headed out....