Why Baseball Is The Greatest Part Of My Life?

I’d like to take you all back to the spring of 2007. Spring was my favorite time of year because it meant one thing, baseball. Baseball was the greatest part of my life. I felt like superman when I took the pitcher’s mound. There was no better place to be. Baseball was my escape from everything. When I was on the mound I could tune anything else out. It was my stress relief, my get away, my sanctuary. On April 12th, 2007 I found out how strong my bond with baseball was. It had been a normal week during a normal senior year of high school. Procrastination, college talk, and baseball practice. There was nothing to complain about, everything was awesome! My cousin and I worked out butts off to get ready for our baseball games. My cousin, Matt,
Cordier to show up, and finally the door opened! See, Mrs. Cordier had known me well before high school. When we, my family and I, lived in Issaquah she was one of my mom’s teammates. They played softball together. Over the years they drifted apart until finally to bond was severed when we moved across the state. One of my first days of high school Mrs. Cordier pulled me into her office and asked if I remembered her. I didn’t, then she asked if my parents were Mary and Jeff. “Um, yeah.” I said very confused. Then she filled me in of my mom’s history with her and how they been friends for a very long time. I knew that she would be able to help. She had heard what happened and asked if I was okay. I tried to talk to her about Matt, but I kept asking when my college application deadline was due and if I had enough time to finish. “Don’t worry about that right now.” She said, but I wanted to be distracted. I wanted to escape from the current situation. Once she realized that, we went over the application and I went off to class. It would hold me over until baseball practice. Once I arrived at practice, my coach pulled me aside and asked if I was okay, and if I would be able to start the game as pitcher tomorrow. “Are you kidding me?” I asked. Of course, I wanted to start. I needed to start. I had to start. When I was on the field everything else melted away; nothing mattered. It was bliss. Then next school day raced by and I don’t remember
All the emotion, the entire gravity of the situation, and I drop to my knees. I raise my hands in the air and erupt with emotions. It wasn’t a playoff game, we we’re playing for the state title, it wasn’t a world series game, but my teammates knew how much that game meant to me. They carried me off the field and everybody was cheering. Even the other team was clapping. Johnny Fox came over and shook my hand. I walked over to Gary and told him sorry I couldn’t hit him a homerun. He shook his head, “it doesn’t matter, Kyle. I know Matt’s laughing and yelling warning track power at you.”The moment was beautiful, and I will never forget that day. Never has my brotherhood bond and my bond with baseball been tested so much at