Steve+Burke+Definintion+Essay

Baseball A small leather ball sewn together with 108 red stitches, made me who I am. I was two years old when I received my first baseball. That Easter present from my father changed my life. It created unforgettable moments, a love of a game, and an undeniable friendship. To this day, that original baseball sits in my room on top of my dresser. Never has one object been so influential on my life. That baseball opened up new doors for me. I carried that baseball everywhere I went. Pre-school, vacation, family parties, that ball never left my sight. I brought it to my first tee-ball practice, even though there was plenty of other balls to use. That tee-ball team is where I first met my best friend Andrew. That baseball helped me create one of the strongest relationships I have ever had. Even through little league, Andrew and I would warm up before each game or practice with my original baseball. That baseball brought us together. In fourth grade, Andrew moved from across town into my neighborhood. We were always good friends, but the move solidified us as best friends. Andrew was a terrific pitcher throughout our youth. He was one of the first kids in Little League that developed a curveball. No one could touch his pitches. A great fastball, mixed with an even better curveball led to an unbeatable combination. He was the star pitcher, and I was the catcher. We had a better combination going than Pedro and Varitek. We were the perfect tag team. In his yard we measured out 46 feet (the mound to plate distance in Little League) and nailed a Fisher Price mound and plate into the ground. He had a large, grassy, and flat front yard, making a perfect location for a practice field. The bus let us off at Andrew’s house, and each spring day we would play catch. He would pitch and I would catch. We used my sacred baseball every time. Our parents would have to drag us inside, because we would throw for hours on end. The only thing that stopped us from playing catch was darkness. That baseball not only developed one of the best pitcher/catcher combinations Bedford Little League has ever seen, but it developed a friendship unlike any other. Everything Andrew and I did revolved around baseball. If itrained, we would roll grounders to each other in my basement. We talked nonstop about the Red Sox. He loved Trot Nixon, and I was obsessed with Nomar Garciaparra. We sat next to each on the bus every single day. We brought our gloves to school everyday in fifth grade and played catch with my baseball on the playground. Wherever we went, whatever we did baseball was on our mind. One day in sixth grade, I had left my glove and my precious baseball at Andrews house. Andrew had just ended playing catch with his dad in his front yard, and left my ball and his glove outside. That night it rained. The next morning I went over his house to find my baseball completely soaked and water logged. I had never been madder at someone then I was at Andrew that day. I grabbed my ball and went home in disgust. It was a week before I talked to him again. It took three and half days of the baseball sitting inside our grill for it to be completely dry. I knew it was a harmless mistake by Andrew. I went right back to talking to him after the baseball dried out. This baseball formed our friendship, but it was definitely not ending it. We were too important to one another. We spent every waking moment together because of that little leather ball. After the rain incident we became closer friends than ever. As we got older we used my baseball less and less, but our friendship still remained strong. That baseball became less important in our relationship, and our real issues now characterized it. My baseball sparked our friendship, but now our genuine affection and respect of one another now defined us.