I am from the sound of pins falling

Sounds of pins smashing against the walls

A gut feeling that everything I'm doing is right,

Until I don't get that precious strike

Rows of hands waiting for high fives

Then looking at my score in awe

I am from the air running across my face

Firebirds Fastpitch logo along my chest

Umpires breath down my back

Making jokes with them, only to get better calls

Looking at the batters trying to figure out what pitch they WON'T hit

Then switching that, when I'm up to bat

Ready to hit the ball waiting,

Waiting for the rush in me of a hard hit ball soaring over outfielders heads

I am from that feeling of never wanting to stop

Never wanting to give up

Always wanting to win

Anger from losing making me play harder,

The next time I have a chance

Fear of losing making my stomach turn

Letting the fear make me play better

I am from the snap of my glove

The curve of a perfect screwball into my glove

That feeling where I'm not thinking, just playing

Thinking of what sign I should give to the pitcher

Thoughts spinning like,

What is the batter going to do with that pitch?

Will she hit it over the fence?

A grounder righter the third basemen?

A fly ball to center?

All of these thoughts driving me crazy,

Unless I'm in, "the zone"

I am from the chatter of high schoolers

Talking about all of there friends

Wanting to pipe in,

Even when all that I can say is how much smaller my school is

Then finally being able to practice with them

Seeing that I'm just as good as them

Wanting to be better than those high schoolers

Working hard to be better, to beat them every time

Beating them, 

Meeting my goal,

Then starting all over again but with different people

Better than the ones before