We got our bags packed and met Coach Frank behind the brick dugout. We just won the quarterfinal game, I felt better than ever, we were on a roll, we just blew this team out, nine to nothing. We were undefeated so far, we had won all eight games. And we were playing better than ever. We were exhausted, the sun was like fire on our skin, but that was the last thing we were thinking about. All we could think about was winning. Myrtle Beach was the biggest tournament of the year, fifty of the nation’s best teams facing off. We were the underdogs but somehow rolling past every team we faced. We are unstoppable, at least I thought. I later came to realize on any given day, anyone can beat anyone.

As we warmed up for the semifinal game we were struck with awe. Our opponents approached the field, they were huge, not one player shorter than six feet tall. To say the least we were intimidated. They were fourteen year old men surrounded by kids. We had never doubted ourselves before but it was almost as if we had already lost, you could feel the doubt among my teammates as the first inning started. We had never experienced this before. No team was ever this much bigger than us. The All-Star team from Indiana came to play. They put up nine runs in the first inning. We went through our three best pitchers. It was over, our dream of going home champions would stay a dream. But it wasn’t really over. This was our season on the line. Why was I counting us out already? The fight back really showed me you can’t count yourself out before it’s over. We were tied. Innings of back and forth baseball went on and on in the South Carolina sun that was burning like fire.

I was at the plate, leading off the top of the sixth inning. A fastball away, I swung, hit a sharp double into the right field gap. The Whitecaps fans and players were all yelling and cheering. We rallied on and took a twelve to nine lead. I was on top of the world again. I took the mound in the bottom of the sixth. I was feeling invincible, nobody was as good as me. However my cockiness would not prevail, I gave up the three of the runs we had just grinded out as a team. And just like that, me, one individual had blown our lead. I let my team, my coaches, and myself down. Only would I later learn that really there is “no I in team”. I always thought one player can change the outcome of the game. But today I would soon realize that in baseball you win and lose as a team. I had done my part and now it was up to my teammates to bring home the victory. We had runners on, two outs, I was on deck. I prayed and hoped for my chance at redemption. Dominic was at the plate, he struck out on three pitches. I would have to wait for my chance to redeem myself.

“Scott you’re on the mound this inning, get it done kid” Coach said.

I was shocked. I told myself it was over, I thought we had no chance with our worst guy in. Scott was our worst pitcher. He had barely pitched all summer and here we were in the bottom of the seventh in our biggest game yet. Regardless of what I felt, I took the field. I jogged out to my spot at short. I took a moment to take in everything the season had brought me. So many ups and downs. I did not want it to end here. I only want one more shot to make this season unforgettable. The first two outs are always the easiest. We retired the first two with ease. Indiana’s clean up man stepped up to the plate. He towered over every single one of our boys. He was an easy 6 foot 5, two hundred pound fourteen year old. The first pitch, ball outside. The second pitch, strike. Scott went through his windup, the pitch was in slow motion. A fast ball right over the middle of the plate, belt high, the perfect pitch to smash. The giant swung his bat harder and quicker than I have ever seen, the ball was hit far. I turned and looked, Dylan in right turned in pursuit of the ball. The ball just kept going. It cleared the fence. Dylan covered his face with his hands in shock. I was in total disbelief. It was over just like that. I dropped down to my knees. I was overtaken with emotion, a river of tears streamed out. The kid jogged the bases, celebrating. I heard his massive foot steps pounding on the turf. Our run was over. We had been defeated.
We departed the field of heartbreak. The field seemed to laugh at us. This game was heartless. That last pitch was on playing on loop in my mind. One last time we gathered behind the dugout. We were greeted by our empathetic families and calming, loving, and forgiving hugs. We were given a speech that felt like an eternity. I sat there, still in disbelief. I felt like my life was over, I felt like dying. This was my least favorite part, the final goodbye. We huddled up one last time. And it was over. All that hard work, and no trophy to show. Just like that it was over.

The last words of Coach Frank however would stick with me forever, “no matter if it is in baseball or life, never count yourself out, but never assume success, because you never know what life has in store. ”
 

I walked away from the field, in deep thought, thinking about what I just heard. I made a promise to myself, from that day on I will never count myself out and I will never assume victory. I will work harder and I will persevere no matter what the circumstances may be.