Baseball
The Diamond “O say, can you see, by the dawn’s early light…O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave!” The baseball game had officially started. Every Sunday afternoon the St. Louis Cardinals played their baseball games at the Rec Center in Marshfield, MA. I was the starting pitcher and shortstop for the team that my father coached. Our veins were filled with blood rushing through our bodies, while our thoughts ran through our heads during the Star Spangled Banner. The lessons to be learned were that I found the path to overcome my anxiety and my deepest fears. The Rec Center was really known as “The Diamond.” This is where all the fun happened in our little town. Trees were littered around the outside fence, with a snack bar directly behind the backstop. The parents sat in the stands, cheering their sons on with pride and emotion. With each rally and cheer the American Flag fluttered in the summer sun. The announcers voice echoed on the PA system, shouting advertisements before the game. Haddad’s Café had the most enjoyable announcement because they sponsored our jerseys and after a victory we received a free meal. I always looked forward to having a nice meal after the games, discussing our fears, and courage during the game. Just below my feet, the warm dew glistened in the sun; I could smell the game, feel the game. The bags in the infield were polished white, but strewn with battle scars from previous games, the marks from doubles, and from home runs. They were worn at the corners, from the spikes sliding into first. The chalk marked the base paths, the breath was almost nauseating, the aroma so familiar to my tastes.