Proving my coach wrong

There was a time when I felt under-appreciated and misunderstood. At one of my baseball practices my coach called me over to talk to me. I thought when he called me over he would talk about a game plan. But, he barked like a dog with spit flying everywhere and the only thing I could hear was, “Get your head in the game,” but I was doing nothing wrong. I was thinking that he expected more out of me because I was one of the better players. I felt like a lightning bolt just came out of nowhere and hit me. Fury was my fists when he told me this. I felt my body was on fire. When he let me go my friends asked me what happened and I said, “The coach yelled at me for no reason.”

Later that practice when I was on the hot field, I was really enraged. When we were taking batting practice I was gripping the bat so tightly that the grip broke after a couple of swings. When I was pitching that day, I was holding the baseball so tighly and throwing so hard that I got a blister on my index finger. The next game the coach played the people I considered his “favorites” and he benched me. When I was drinking water the water tasted really bitter. I felt defeated and useless and I wanted to quit. I didn’t understand what had happened. I am usually quiet and calm. I thought he preferred loud and outspoken players. I have never experienced this before from a coach or teacher. I wish I would have asked him why he felt this way about me. He really made me want to give up baseball, a sport I really loved. The reason I still play is because I wanted to prove my coach wrong. I didn’t want him to make me quit. I also kept on playing because my friends wanted me to and I’m really good. They told me that they needed me to win.

The next game was important because I wanted to prove my coach wrong and it was the playoffs. On my first at bat, I was really nervous. Everything just went quiet; all I could smell was the freshly-cut grass. The pitcher threw the ball and I swung really hard. From the crack of the bat I knew it was a homerun. I could hear everyone in the stands cheering and yelling. As I was rounding third base, my coach said, “Nice job,” and I felt like I accomplished my goal. From that point on I was considered one of the “better players” by my teammates. I was glad to prove my coach wrong.

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