Gigantic archways and rusted, metal gates create the front of the amazing stadium. Walking in the enormous ballpark I immediately notice the earthy aroma of the freshly cut grass and the freshly plowed dirt. The air is humid yet perfect for a baseball game. Before the game, many anxious players took picture? of the professional, Triple A stadium. It was quite the sight at in the top rows of the park. This is it. '
The warm ups commenced shortly after every nerve-wrecked player arrived. Since our coach nominated a select few of us to be Pitcher Onlys, he bought Zach Neff and me fungo bats to hit groundballs and flyballs to the skilled infielders and outfielders. Occasionally, I dashed out in the giant outfield and would take some flyballs-- trying to “rob” Zach of his only chance to hit a homerun was my ultimate goal. While we pounded the balls to the players, our pitcher Michael Schwarze warmed up his arm to pitch. His devastating curveball was a great compliment to his eighty-nine mile an hour fastball. Nerves rushed through my body as the bright, exuberant lights scattered across the metallic scoreboard telling us the game is about to start.

Next, the playing of the National Anthem ringing throughout the ball players’ ears only gets them excited for the important game. Some people may not realize the importance of this game. We were playing for the 18u National Championship. This is it. Coming into this glorious tournament, our record wasn’t too hot. Coach Roelfing didn’t have any faith in us. He crazily scheduled a golf round back in St. Louis that afternoon. Sadly, he couldn’t attend because we made it to the National Championship game.

Our coach hollered “Well you already ruined my day. You might as well win the damn thing.”

Secretly, I think coach wasn’t too mad. Deep down he was just a ecstatic as we were. Watching Michael Schwarze run through the grassy infield and take the professional dirt mound was truly an amazing moment.

“Four more pitch!”, yelled the head umpire.

I sat there waiting, even more nervous than when I walked in.

“Coming down!”, shouted our Arkansas commit catcher Chad Spanberger.

This is it.

“Steeerrriiikkke one!”, the squawking umpire screeches at the top of his lungs-- A great way to start the game.