Term Paper on "Baseball Scholarship as Someone Who Has Already"

Term Paper 6 pages (2079 words) Sources: 0

[EXCERPT] . . . .

Baseball Scholarship

As someone who has already received a full sports scholarship, I know how important helping hands are in promoting excellence in sports. I am now 33 years old, probably past my physical prime but still dedicated to hard work and sportsmanlike conduct in all my affairs. Receiving a full scholarship right out of high school gave me tremendous gratitude and a sense of responsibility. More importantly, the scholarship was hard-won. It did not fall into my lap. It did not come easy. I worked hard to get to the point where I could even become eligible for an honor like a Pace University sports scholarship.

While in the throes -- and throws -- of my early baseball career, I had no idea that the effort I was putting in would one day pay off as it has. My baseball career would actually never have taken off if it were not for a period of tremendous hardship that affected me and my family. When I was in high school, my father lost his job. I quickly realized that all my expectations of my parents paying for my college tuition were shot. The anxiety I felt compelled me to find a way to make college possible on my own terms: as an athlete.

My father inspired me to play baseball. He was a pitcher for the Mets' minor league team and I grew up going to his games. When he eased out of his baseball career he continued to pitch for local and company softball games. Our family also attended those religiously. More importantly, my father taught me how to play. Day after day we played catch in the backyard. The work paid off: I have been a pitcher ever since. Play turned into work, too. What started out being a casual game of catch became a fierce competition for recognition and resources at school.

When I noticed that other kids could pitch as well as I could, I knew that I had to do more to outperform them. I started to lift weights and train rigorously. I watched what I ate. I also watched my favorite pitchers for inspiration, tips, and ideas. I read about baseball. I threw and threw until my arm hurt. I caught and caught. I worked out daily and practiced incessantly. I was obsessed and to a great degree, I still am.

Before I stepped up my training, I lost a great degree of playing time to two other students. I was a junior in high school at the time, probably cocky because my dad had a career in the sport. I was taking for granted that I would follow in his footsteps. I also settled for mediocrity, not setting any goals for myself. Instead I thought of baseball more as a hobby than a career, as something to toy with instead of work at. When I noticed that I was good enough to compete and also that I was good enough to be the best: that was when I kicked up my game and started to work harder than I had in my life.

A also had set a goal for myself: a prime motivator for working harder. I became determined to be the best pitcher in my senior year of high school. Between junior and senior year I pressed, I pumped, I pitched my heart out. At the same time, I had the added impetus of needing my baseball skills as a potential source of college tuition revenues. My sport had become a potential key to success and it took my training and my attitude to a whole new level. As a result, my pitching improved exponentially. When I reached senior year I became the starting pitcher for the varsity team and had successfully outshone my main competitors. One goal was completed.

In my senior year our school made it to the New York State Championships, held in Utica. I was the starting pitcher for the championship game and we won. The win was tremendous. It impacted my life in ways I had not foreseen. Within two days of the win, Pace University offered me a full sports scholarship. Stunned, I savored my victory and learned for the first time truly that hard work does pay off.

All the while I was playing and improving my sport in high school, I did not know whether or not what I was doing would have any impact on my future. I was really working for immediate goals: first by becoming a starting pitcher and then by winning as many games as possible and finally by winning the championship. Each small goal required dedication and hard work. I have come to realize the value of setting small goals while working. Small goals prevent us from becoming overwhelmed and they also help us see the immediate results of our hard work.

I have endured enormous setbacks in my life that prove the need for perseverance. First, my father lost his job when I was in my first few years of high school and our family went through an emotional and financial crisis. He worked as a department manager for a large retail company -- for 25 years. After twenty-five years of service, my father was dropped like he never mattered at all. His experience disheartened our family and it might have suggested to my young mind that hard work leads to nowhere and nothing. If my father worked as hard as I knew he did and he couldn't make it either as a professional baseball player or in retail management, then I had every reason to give up on myself. I could have accepted the fact that I would attend a junior college, if any college at all. I could have accepted the fact that baseball was a backyard sport, not a sport from which I could earn accolades, let alone money.

On top of my father's losing his job, I suffered from sports injuries. First, I injured my shoulder from throwing so much during my junior year. The heavy training paid off in the long run but I needed rehabilitation and did not know whether I was up for the task at hand. Still, I had enough to propel me forward and through the injury. I needed that scholarship. I wanted to go to college; it was more than about winning games, it was about living the best life I possibly could. After that first injury I endured several more but none that discouraged me from pressing on and playing.

My family's financial troubles first inspired me to forge my own path as a baseball player. Through one obstacle I grew stronger and felt absolutely compelled to work hard. I had something to prove: to my parents and to myself. I knew that not being able to pay for my college tuition meant that I had to do whatever it took to use my pitching skills to get me into a good school. The hard work paid off, and I did earn the full scholarship to Pace.

Then my sports injuries seemed to tell me that hard work wouldn't pay off. When I felt pain it was as if my body laughed at my attempts to push through my personal obstacles. I felt laughed at: hard work was going to get me nowhere, and I should just suck up a two-year degree like everyone else in my position does. For some reason, whether pride or passion, I did push through. I ignored the voices that told me I was working for nothing. I ignored the voice that said that hard work was doing me more harm than good. Thankfully I had a father who had worked through injuries of his own and a mother who also knew that athletes sustain physical pain for greater professional and personal gain. With the support of my family, I pushed through the physical obstacles that stood in my way. I worked hard and it paid off not only in a successful rehabilitation but also in games won.

Interestingly, the harder I worked and the better I became at my sport, the less support I received from the high school coach. It seemed as if I had to work harder than my teammates to get noticed, recognized, or picked by the coach. He drove me to work harder, whether he meant to or not. Eventually he could not help but recognize me. When he finally started me in the sectional game and we won, he knew that if he wanted our team to win he had no other choice than to start me in the championship. We went on to win the game. All that time, I did not fall pray to the sense of victimhood some players might have. I did not feel persecuted. I understood then, and still do, that coaches are under pressure and often make decisions for political and personal reasons instead of pure logic and reason.… READ MORE

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