Why I Love Baseball: a Passion Which Lies in My Heart
Baseball, often referred to as America's pastime, holds a special place in my heart. From the crack of the bat to the smell of freshly cut grass, every aspect of this timeless game fills me with joy and excitement. In this essay, I will explore the reasons why I love baseball though one life story which has happened to me recently.
It was 16 degrees Celsius, but all the fans sitting in the Taichung Intercontinental Baseball Stadium felt a surge of adrenaline. It was the bottom of the eighth inning; there were two outs and team Korea was at-bat. I stopped cheering with the crowd for Chinese Taipei to win and held my breath as I watched the Korean batter’s bat connect with the ball. Crack! Noooooooooooo! The anchor shouted, “The ball was hit into the deep left field, and it was gone! It was a three run home run for Korea!” A dead silence rang through my ears as I struggled to recover from my shock. I was heartbroken because Korea was leading at the close of the game.
Baseball is a tense and exciting sport. There are countless changes in each game. Anything might happen before a game ends. I love baseball because of the atmosphere of the game, such as the crack of the bat or the cheers from the fans, and the players’ sportsmanship: no matter what the result, the players are well-behaved. I was first introduced to this game by my grandfather. He played baseball when he was young and wanted to pass his love of the game to me. I could still remember the first game he took me to. It was a high-octane match, and it was the first time I felt my excitement rushing through my veins at a baseball game. Pleased with my reaction, my grandfather would play baseball with me whenever he could. When I was in fifth grade, I initially wanted to join a baseball team; unfortunately, our school did not have one, so I joined tee-ball instead. The rules were similar to baseball, but the ball was softer. I was always the first on the field during practices.
My coach taught me tactics and skills, and I practiced hard with my teammates, happy to be surrounded by those with the same passion for the game. I, however, loved watching the game even more than I enjoyed playing it. Ever since I fell in love with baseball at the first game I watched, my friends, father, grandfather, or Mr. Fultz (my PE teacher) and I would watch baseball games at the stadium or on television on the weekends. We followed the professional baseball games of our favorite team: the Brother Elephant. We discussed important plays and the players' performances. The players' performances captivated me. I kept track of who hit home runs, why players were placed in certain positions, and what defensive tactics they used. When there were no games on a particular weekend, I ran to the batting center to practice both pitching and batting skills.
Last but not the least, when I found freetime at home, I watched commentators analyzing the perfect way to pitch, the different types of pitches, the correct pitching skills, and batting. At times, I researched the history of baseball on the Internet, learning when baseball was invented, the rules of baseball, and the different cultures of baseball in other countries. I often stayed up very late glued to these types of information.
