Sandlot Essay, Research Paper

Sandlot a vacant lot especially used for unorganized sports. It was a place

during my childhood years where I could go and not have a worry on my mind,

except being with my best friends and playing some sandlot ball. A place where

the memories of endless fun and games took place, between my friends and I. I

still hear the voices of neighbors yelling at us to go home because of the

tennis balls we hit against their walls and windows. The sandlot was better than

Turner Field to us. Nothing could compare to all the times we had there. It was

a small field in between two apartment complexes. The spray painted lines we

drew, the worn out rug squares we used as bases, the home plate we made out of

wood and painted white were all the things we could do to make this old field

our baseball park. But during our endless games we sure felt like we were

playing on a real field. The rules aren?t exactly like baseball, although

things were very similar. Day after day we never chose a winner. We just played

to satisfy our love for the game, not for bragging rights. Our games could be

played with just four people and sometimes we had games that were nine on nine,

just like the pros. Every morning I knew the call to meet at the lot was coming.

By the time we all met up, we were all ready to play. Making teams was always a

hassle because everyone always wanted to be on Tommy?s team. So, we all took

turns being on his team and his team usually won. Taking slides into the

run-down grass around the bases, even getting cuts from the pebbles we missed

picking up were all part of the lot. And every time a foot stomped on home

plate, it was a reminder that the sandlot was ours. By the time lunch time came

around we would be covered in sweat and ready to jump in the pool to cool off.

Then we would always have a pizza delivered to the pool, it was kind of a

tradition during the summer. After a nice long rest there we were back on the

lot continuing our games as if we had nowhere to go. As dusk starts to roll in

we still played until one of us was nailed by a screaming line drive in the head

because it was too dark to see. Usually our game-ending announcement was my

friend?s mom, when I could hear her screaming his name to come home. That was

the cue the game was over for the day. Soon it was just Tommy and I around and

we are always the last to leave. Knowing tomorrow we all would be back to play

again and again. As I reminisce back on the sandlot, I think back to the days

when I had the most fun. Every day was like a new adventure to be conquered by

my friends and I. The lot after a couple of years was moved down the road to a

new location, by a new group of children in my old neighborhood. They too, had

done a nice job taking care of the field, as I go back to take another look at

what my friends and I had originally started. As I see the kids play today, I am

reminded of the times when we were all children and carefree. With not a single

worry on our little minds except what new toys to buy, the sandlot my home away

from home as a kid.