Coming Up Short

Not gonna lie, I found it difficult to pick a failure to write about. Not really because I haven't failed or come up short in life but I couldn't think of something I could write a lot about, and something I could put on the blog. When I sat down and thought about it, I was able to select a topic, but how much I can write about it, well, I don't know. In the summer after 8th grade, my sister joined the summer swim team in the town, and I didn't really have a reaction. But when I found out my two best friends were on the team, I immediately signed up later that day. My first summer swimming was weird. I wanted to succeed, despite not knowing any of the strokes and me and all of my friends swimming in the slow lane, never actually completing the set we were supposed to do. Looking back at that summer, I realize I've really improved, obviously meaning that that summer wasn't my failure that I intend on writing about. Well, anyway, the winter of freshman year I joined the swim team realizing my probable spot as the worst person on the team, which didn't bother me until I saw my friend make sections in numerous events, and I was angry because I had started swimming at the same time (he also had been swimming a lot more then me since we both started, but I didn't really realize that then.) Sophomore year, I came into the season with the obvious goal of making sections. I was excited about the potential of the season, and but I came into the season looking terrible, adding on more and more time with each race. I eventually picked backstroke and breaststroke as my section swims, but one time I did backstroke and my arm was in extreme pain. I was diagnosed with tendinitis the next day, and lime's disease a couple weeks later. My swim season was shot. And there were my two close friends, the reason I joined Seahawks make sections, one even made it to finals! And all I could do was sit there and watch. Coming into Junior year, I didn't do Seahawks or Hawks (the year-round team), which I regret because it probably was the final thing that set-up this failure. Within the first two meets of the year, I was on the coach's section-watch list. There was no doubt-I was gonna get it in the 100 Breaststroke. There reached a point of the season where I was only 2 or 3 seconds off, easily droppable in the Breaststroke. But, suddenly, I started struggling, and I didn't know why. Instead of watching my time drop, it rose, race by race. I got out of the pool and threw my cap and goggles in anger. Then I got yelled at by the coach so I went to the locker room and repeated my actions. A major ear infection took me out of the pool coming down the home stretch. I got into the pool for the first time in weeks, one day before the final meet I could make sections in. I knew it, I was screwed, there was no way I could do it. And then the meet came, and I went in with confidence and nervousness. The coach showed me the meet record time, totally attainable, and it would grant me a section time. He told me I could get it, and I believed him and I believed in myself. I put my heart and soul into that race, probably more so than any other before. But when I finished and looked at the times, I saw my season end, way over the section time and my PR. I was disgusted with myself, I couldn't believe that I hadn't been able to do what I thought I could, and I was mad that I had thought I could do something I really couldn't. However, the outcome of that race has motivated me to crush that race next year, and I'm certainly not going to fail, because I hate that feeling of disgust.

"The only sport where you can do something about yesterday, today"

I don't really have a specific place of solace, but if anybody truly knows me they know I find peace in the game of baseball. I don't really know when my love of the game began, but I do know it must have been a quick development. My earliest memory of playing is in my uncle's front lawn around Easter time in the mist of a humid Virginia day. I remember my first Yankee shirt I got was from my grandpa for Christmas in 2003-I credit him for  making me a Yankee fan. It was also 2003 that I can sort of recall watching a MLB game, watching as my mom's favorite team gave up a homerun to Aaron Boone (picture above) sending the Yankees to the World Series. I didn't care though. But, over the course of the 2004 season, I became a fan. I watched Derek Jeter fly into the stands to catch a foul ball, and then saw a John Flaherty double to win the game 10 innings later (against the Red Sox). It amazed me, the sacrifice for a ball, the sheer excitement of listening to the announcers go crazy and seeing the dog pile at home plate. I also watched A-Rod slam into the Red Sox catcher, leading to a full-on brawl in the infield. That summer my cousin and I also started a new tradition-we went to our grandparents to watch the all-star game and sleepover. And, for me, nothing beats the MLB all-star game. 2004 was sort of a clashing year of generations for baseball, the generation of the 90's was fading, and a new generation lead by stars such as Albert Pujols and Ichiro was taking over. That all-star game tradition still continues today, almost 10 years later. We always make room for it, and when we can't we record it and watch it at another gathering. Watching the game just has a soothing effect on me, I don't know how or why. But when I'm going through the rough patch or I'm in a bad mood, I can sit down a watch the game, play it on a video game system, or go outside and toss a ball to myself. I remember last year I was really upset about something, and I was texting one of my friends about it. I remember specifically saying to her "The Yankees better be on when I get home." Most people I talk to hate the sport, they say its too slow and boring. But I say its not, not if you appreciate the game. The number of outcomes of one pitch are fanamonal, not to mention the possible outcomes before a pitch can even be thrown. The game runs at the perfect pace for what needs to take place. And its unique in so many ways, that it can hardly be compared to the other major sports on the continent. One of these is that you can't lose until you actually lose, meaning there is no clock to run out, you can knee the ball. Two years ago I watched a team be one strike away from losing the world series and win it the next day. One time with one out left a Yankee hit a routine pop-fly that ending up falling out of the fielders glove, and the Yankees won. While the time for me to play the game is waining, I know that I'll still be involved with it and one day hope to find a job in it. There is nothing more exciting, mystifying, and calming for me. Its the greatest game in the world, and like someone once said-its the only sport where you can do something about yesterday, tomorrow, sometimes being forgiving, while sometimes causing you extreme frustration. And there is truly nothing more exciting then watching a ball fly out of the park, and listening to the call of the broadcaster: "This is Boone's first at bat of the game-ITS A FLY BALL DEEP TO LEFT, THERE IT GOES AND THE YANKEES ARE GOING TO THE WORLD SERIES..."

Repitition

I don't think I read a lot of different books. Just the same things over and over again; The Little Engine That Could, The Hungry Caterpillar, and Where The Wild Things are were read multiple times in my childhood. I have found that I still enjoy reading things again and just looking deeper and deeper into it. I read the entire Harry Potter series twice, the second time looking deep into connections between the books, such as looking at the names of wizards briefly mentioned and the authors of the books that the kids needed for school. I don't know if its because I'm scared to try new things or if I just get hooked onto a book. I love learning the backstory and the continuation of a story beyond the book itself. For instance, when we did the play "Antigone" in sixth grade, I asked for and was given the task of researching the backstory of "Oedipus", increasing my understanding of the play as a whole. One thing I have always enjoyed is the genre of non-fiction. I constantly read the pages in animal, fire truck, and civil war books, reading pages over and over again, some how hoping to find more in the two-sentences and picture that took up a page. I never would be open to reading a new book series, other than the Magic Treehouse books, which, like always I would read over again, picking out favorite stories and then looking more into the topic that was discussed in a single book. My mom says I always looked into, and still do look into, everything too deeply. Just because I read something, doesn't mean I've reached satisfaction. It has now spread beyond reading, into everything from personal interactions and beyond. For me, reading will always be the same as from when I started, always able to read a story I enjoyed again and again, always looking for something more within each page.