You lead the last minute heroics and lead you team to victory.
You lead the heroics and your team to victory.
You heroically lead your team to victory.
You lead heroics.
Hero
1. The most challenging part of writing my essay was making it all come together and flow. Our teacher had us get all our thoughts onto paper, and just write what came to our heads. My rough draft I turned in was stream of consciousness. It was very skewed, and addressed a lot of ideas and concepts. I wasn’t really sure how to organize it, or where to go with the essay. I had to take six pages of pretty much randomness, and filter it into a logical essay, addressing the main ideas and concepts I wanted to, meanwhile following and keeping the plot of my baseball memory, interweaving the two in order to backup the ideas I addressed. If I could go back to my essay I would end the essay with me walking off the field, because I feel that the concluding two paragraphs to my essay may have distracted from the point I was trying to make conceptually, and took the focus of the essay back to the story of my pitching performance shame I felt, and not on virtual reality vs. reality. Although it sort of connected to my essay by addressing the mistake I made confusing virtual reality with reality, it may have been unnecessary and redundant. There are some other things I would also change, but the changes would be less significant
2. My essay is about virtual reality vs. reality. As technology advances and is used more and more by society, people begin to become very involved with virtual reality. Video games were my main focus. People begin to view videos games as more that just “games.” They begin to enjoy the false feeling of power, superiority, and joy they receive from the game and prefer it to reality. They also can confuse virtual reality with reality because of the superiority and skills they posses in the game. I used a memory of a bad experience in baseball as the base of the essay, in which I too confused virtual reality with reality, leading to a very bad day filled with humiliation.
3. It was a really fun to write about my topic because it is something I think a lot about, and something I have witnessed and experienced first hand. I liked writing about video games and virtual reality because they are becoming such a large part of society today. It was cool to read about some of the stories and new articles on people confusing virtual reality vs. reality. It was quite entertaining and alarming. I really could get involved and into my topic, which is something I usually struggle to do in writing. That made writing the essay much more fun and less of a burden.
Chris Reed
English
Pugliese
9-21-09
Baseball Game
I arrived at the field one hour early. Butterflies in my stomach, ready for my first game. The field looked massive, larger than usual, as if someone had moved the fences back farther, and moved the bases farther apart. The infield had just been raked and watered, and the outfield grass was perfectly cut. I was in amazement.
I set my stuff down on the dugout bench and jogged out onto the field to join my teammates for warm ups. I was beyond nervous. It was my first baseball game. Things weren’t looking to good from the start. During warm-ups the muscles in my arm were telling me they weren’t happy, very sore, and I couldn’t throw the ball anywhere near where I aimed. My teammates were already frustrated with me, and the game hadn’t even started yet.
After warming up our arms, we all headed back to the dugout. The time for the first pitch grew nearer, and still coach hadn’t announced who the starting pitcher would be. I was nearly positive it wouldn’t be me, so I was just focused on doing well in the field, and hopefully getting a hit my first at bat. I was totally zoned out, envisioning myself hitting a home run and jogging around to the bases, team and fans going nuts. But then I thought I heard my coach call my name. I snapped out of the trance I was in, and looked up.
“Reed, your starting pitcher today. Hope your arm’s feeling good.” Coach Dave announced.
My stomach tightened up and I nearly puked. How was that possible? I had no prior pitching experience. Then I remembered telling coach during our last few practices that I was an expert pitcher, and that I should pitch in a game sometime. But I had never anticipated that he would really listen to me, and actually have me pitch. Especially now, the first game of the season.
“Reed, go down to the bullpen and throw some pitches, we need you ready in five minutes. The games about to start.” Coach commanded.
As I journeyed down to the bullpen, thoughts raced through my head. What was I going to do? I had no idea how to pitch. Then I tried to calm myself. I kept telling myself that since I was good at pitching in my MLB video game, than that had to mean I was an ok pitcher in real life.
Unfortunately that was not the case. The first inning lasted for what seem like years. I couldn’t throw a strike. Literally, I looked like idiot on the mound, and allowed the maximum amount of runs possible, six. After that, the mercy rule came into play, and the inning was finally over. I felt awful. The look of disappointment in my coaches eyes, and the discouraged looks on my all my teammates faces. We were obviously going to lose the game because of me.
The coach took my aside and asked me why I had told him I knew how to pitch, because it was apparent that I couldn’t. I told him about how I thought that if I was good in my video game, then I could be good in real life. At least he chuckled. He told me not to worry, and that it wasn’t a very big deal. But to me it was. I was humiliated.
I ended up striking out two out of three at bats that game, and had three errors in the field. It was a day to be forgotten, and unfortunately to this day hadn’t been forgotten. After the game, my dad had nothing to day. I could tell he was disappointed with me, like everyone else who watched the game. But he still managed to say something supportive. Doing his job as a father.
That day I was so ashamed that I swore to myself I would never let it happen again. I wouldn’t lie about my talent, because it would catch up to me again, as it did before. I practiced pitching with my dad everyday, ritually, so someday I would be as good as I was in my video game. I couldn’t wait for my chance to redeem myself, because the events that occurred on that treacherous spring day would be stuck in my head forever, and would serve as my motivation. Motivation to improve.
