This is a very rough draft for my nomination essay on failure. Any and all feedback is greatly appreciated.
"Since I was twelve years old, I have spent my summers traveling around the country playing competitive baseball. During my most competitive years, my team placed within the top 25 baseball teams in the country. I was not only a member of the team, but also an integral part of the daily lineup. My coaches often referred to me as a second coach on the field due to my impeccable leadership. I had complete control of the game when I was behind the plate. Division 1 baseball appeared to be on my horizon until my career came to a screeching halt this past summer.
I began the season like I had numerous seasons before. Weekly practices had fine tuned my skills and prepared me for a breakout season. However, that season would be far from the breakout season I dreamed of. During pregame warm-ups before my first game, I felt something unnatural in my throwing motion. I timidly attempted to throw the ball back to the pitcher. The ball felt foreign in my hand. After nearly twelve years of playing baseball, I had forgotten one of the most basic actions in baseball: throwing a ball.
As gametime quickly approached, I sat in silence at the end of the bench. I visualized each part of my throw. Desperately, I searched for any irregularities. I quickly jogged onto the field and took my familiar position behind home plate. However, this time it felt anything but routine. I vividly remember the first throw I had to make back to the pitcher. The ball made it about halfway to the pitching mound before it bounced all the way to the pitcher. I felt the crowds’ eyes on me. I attempted to hide in my catcher’s mask, but there was no escaping the spotlight.
The rest of my season went much like that first throw. The game I had loved so much was now my most dreaded chore. Many nights I considered quitting or faking an injury to get out of my next game. However, I did not quit.
I spent countless days with my older brother in my front yard reteaching myself how to throw. I would throw until my arm hurt or until it was too dark to see. Although I never again felt comfortable throwing the ball back to the pitcher, I refused to be beaten. Baseball may have sapped my confidence, but it couldn’t kill my spirit.
I had never had to overcome something so daunting before I struggled with my game. Although I wish I hadn’t failed, I believe I learned invaluable life lessons such as the importance of perseverance and self confidence due to my experience with failure."
"Since I was twelve years old, I have spent my summers traveling around the country playing competitive baseball. During my most competitive years, my team placed within the top 25 baseball teams in the country. I was not only a member of the team, but also an integral part of the daily lineup. My coaches often referred to me as a second coach on the field due to my impeccable leadership. I had complete control of the game when I was behind the plate. Division 1 baseball appeared to be on my horizon until my career came to a screeching halt this past summer.
I began the season like I had numerous seasons before. Weekly practices had fine tuned my skills and prepared me for a breakout season. However, that season would be far from the breakout season I dreamed of. During pregame warm-ups before my first game, I felt something unnatural in my throwing motion. I timidly attempted to throw the ball back to the pitcher. The ball felt foreign in my hand. After nearly twelve years of playing baseball, I had forgotten one of the most basic actions in baseball: throwing a ball.
As gametime quickly approached, I sat in silence at the end of the bench. I visualized each part of my throw. Desperately, I searched for any irregularities. I quickly jogged onto the field and took my familiar position behind home plate. However, this time it felt anything but routine. I vividly remember the first throw I had to make back to the pitcher. The ball made it about halfway to the pitching mound before it bounced all the way to the pitcher. I felt the crowds’ eyes on me. I attempted to hide in my catcher’s mask, but there was no escaping the spotlight.
The rest of my season went much like that first throw. The game I had loved so much was now my most dreaded chore. Many nights I considered quitting or faking an injury to get out of my next game. However, I did not quit.
I spent countless days with my older brother in my front yard reteaching myself how to throw. I would throw until my arm hurt or until it was too dark to see. Although I never again felt comfortable throwing the ball back to the pitcher, I refused to be beaten. Baseball may have sapped my confidence, but it couldn’t kill my spirit.
I had never had to overcome something so daunting before I struggled with my game. Although I wish I hadn’t failed, I believe I learned invaluable life lessons such as the importance of perseverance and self confidence due to my experience with failure."
