Sandlot Essay, Research Paper

The Days of the Sandlot

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.