Grandson's essay

Subject: Grandson's essay Sat Nov 19, 2016 8:10 am

My daughter just sent to me the essay written by Erik. He is the one who said that when turns 13 he will become cold and distant.

[size=32]Home Run[/size]

By: Erik Long 11/13/16

Chapter 1: My Normal Day

“You’ll never catch ME!” I was running across the dirty, small hallways trying to get away from the bullies.

“Come back here punk!” hollered the bullies. I heard people gasping on either side of the lockers while I was running from the bullies. This was like… everyday. I have no idea why they bully me. Looks, popularity? I think they do it just to do it. But that wasn't on my mind right then. I darted, lunged and leapt away from the bullies. Two minutes later their voices began to fade. Once I knew they were gone I started walking to my house. It was the end of school on a Monday which meant I had a whole week of this. When I arrived home I swung my backpack on the floor and dropped down on the couch.

“Is that you Carter?” my mom yelled from downstairs.

“Yes, mom!” I went into the kitchen and I was exhilarated to see my best friend there, Fred.

“Ouch, it looks like they did it again.”

“Yep,” I said in a tired voice. Fred is kinda annoying at times but he can really pick you up if you need it. “So why are you here?” I inquired.

“Well, it’s baseball practice today, of course!” Yes, I do play a sport, baseball. I enjoy it but I am bad at it because I can’t hit a single ball, which is another reason to get picked on. I wasn't very crazy about going to the baseball practice because I just ran a mile trying to get away from the bullies. As soon as my mom sped upstairs. I jumped into my baseball cloths and I mosied on over to the baseball field about half a block down.

Chapter 2: The Big Fail

When I walked down to the baseball field I unpacked my bag and sprinted to get to my team. Baseball wasn't really fun for me most of the time because the only one I could talk to was Fred. No, NO, NOOOO! We were doing hitting first. I bolted up to the batting cage with the evening wind pushing against my face.

“YER UP CARTER!” the coach hollered. I had a big lump in my throat, butterflies in my stomach. I heard people snickering behind me while I was creeping up to the plate. They KNEW I was going to fail at hitting because I was so bad. I took to my stance, getting ready for the ball. The coach threw the first pitch and I swung, I missed but I had so much momentum that I circled around a few times after I swung. I heard a lot of people laughing in the background. The coach threw the ball, strike two. My fingers were sweaty and I my knees were wobbling. Now you're probably thinking I was going to hit a homerun. You are WRONG. I swung and struck out, again. While I trotted out of the cage people were still snickering saying “he sucks” or “lets beat him up after school.” I rushed over to Fred which cheered me up, because he wasn’t laughing and now he was saying positive things like, “you tried your best.” We jogged into fielding practice and caught pop ups and grounders. I am better at fielding and I caught most of them, so I was proud of myself. After that, I packed up and left for home.

Chapter 3: The Game

After the torturous day of school I made my way home and suited up for the game. My uniform was kinda dirty from all the drills and sliding I had to do so I looked ragged. This was the last baseball game of our season and I was actually excited. After sprinting to the baseball field because I was late I went down to the dugouts and threw with Fred. The wind was blowing and it was chilly out; I could hear birds chirping in the distance. The game started at about 6:30 and we were away. I read the batting list and of course, I was last. I plopped down on the bench and waited for my turn. The game seemed to go SO slow because the inning went on for so long. The score was 7 to 7 and the top of the 9th inning two outs and I WAS UP.

I got up to the plate, I was 0 and 2 on hitting and the pitcher knew I was bad. I took the signal from the coach, scampered up to the plate, and I slowly went into my stance. The pitcher wound up and threw, it was a solid strike so I swung at it. I missed. “Strike 1!” I took my sign from the coach to swing bunt or not swing, he told me to swing. I dragged my feet up on the plate and stood in my stance again. My teammate behind me was actually cheering for me. “Let's go, Carter, Let’s GO!”

I swung lazily and almost fell over, again, and that was strike two. I was trembling in my feet but I was confident. I sprinted to the plate got in my stance and the pitcher threw it. It was like slow motion, I knew where the ball was going to go, and I swung with all my might. I CLOBBERED IT.

“COME ON RUN!!!” my teammates cheered. I just stood there, it sailed and sailed and sailed, OVER THE FENCE. It was a home run! I almost collapsed, but I regained my balance by putting my feet in place and was sprinting around the bases. After I touched home everybody piled on me and cheered. It felt like an elephant was on me, but it was the happiest day of my life.

Chapter 4: It’s Not Over

We won the game 8 to 7. The next day at school was amazing, I was delivered pats on the back and congratulated. Even the bullies didn’t try to beat me up, I felt like a king. After school, I sprinted to my house and my parents and Fred was there to greet me with brownies and milk. I felt very proud of myself and I couldn't wait until the next season. I knew this was just the beginning of my baseball legacy.

Subject: Re: Grandson's essay Sat Nov 19, 2016 9:36 am

Seems like you have a novelist in the making, Abe. Give Erik my best wishes and tell him: well done!

P.S. Tell him cold and distant is not a good look.

Subject: Re: Grandson's essay Sat Nov 19, 2016 12:07 pm

Thanks, Shelagh.

Subject: Re: Grandson's essay Sat Nov 19, 2016 4:52 pm

Your grandson is very clever. Grandson's essay 986286

Subject: Re: Grandson's essay Sun Nov 20, 2016 1:31 am

Thanks Alice. My grand kids are special. I'll bet you feel the same way about yours.

Subject: Re: Grandson's essay Sun Nov 20, 2016 10:06 am

Abe F. March wrote:: Thanks Alice. My grand kids are special. I'll bet you feel the same way about yours.

You are so right, Abe. I wish I had known how precious children are always. bounce