It was a long day at Burrillville Middle school, our baseball team had 2 games to play against one of the toughest teams in the league. The sun was blazing down on the isolated field. We had already won the first game, 10-6, and we were all growing tired and agitated at the current situation taking place in the second game. But things were about to change.

Bottom of the 6th, 0 outs, bases loaded, and we were down by 3 runs. At this point, our teams were yelling and at each other, the coaches were yelling at the teams, and the umpires were yelling at both the coaches and the teams. Understanding how important this game was to our team, I attempted to clear my mind and walk up to the plate to hopefully win the game for our team.

Almost as soon as I step up to the plate, the first pitch is thrown, whizzing right by my head as I fall to the dirt. Confused, I stand right back up as if nothing happened during that first pitch. Shortly after, the 2nd pitch is thrown and it almost hits my feet so I jump out of the way. Ball 2. At this point I had figured that something was up with this pitcher, but I didn't really think about it much. Next pitch, hits me right in the head and I fall down for the third time during the at bat. However, despite the pain of the ball smashing into my face, I was furious because I knew that he tried to do it. My face was red with anger.

The coach ran out to the mound and substituted the pitcher for the third-baseman. After a minute, I slowly get back up and walk to first base. The pitcher is done, as he fell to the pure pressure of the game. The coach decides to switch him with the 3rd baseman, who also happened to be causing trouble throughout the duration of the game. Once again I found myself not paying much attention to what was going on rather than the actual outlook of the game itself. The next batter comes up to the plate. "WHACK!" the ball whizzes by the second baseman and I find myself being held at third base, ready to eventually score one of the most crucial runs in the game. The game is now tied at 5 runs.

"Hey you!" The third baseman (earlier pitcher) says to me.

I ignore him knowing that he will probably try to get into my head and further enrage me. But little did I know, he did not mean to annoy me in any way. Instead, he was going to apologize for throwing a pitch into my helmet, and I was completely unaware of this.

"Can you just shut up?" I say rudely.

He continues to try and talk to me which I find tormenting. The next batter is now at the plate, and has a very high chance of hitting in the winning run. He strikes out. The last batter in our lineup is now up. I take a lead off the base, and the third baseman tries to trip me to get me out. I snapped. I kicked him in the shin with the bottom of my cleats, and he backs away with a grimace on his face . The ball is hit into the outfield and I prepare to tag up and score, which I do. We won the game, but I see the third baseman grasping his shins like he is really hurt. He was just joking around and I took it as he was trying to get into my head.

Our team celebrates in a short burst of happiness and excitement, but nobody realized what I had just done. I acted very foolishly and instead of forgiving him for hitting me in the helmet with a ball, which was not a very big deal after a couple of minutes, I retaliated and ended up hurting him for no reason. Only after the game when I was sluggishly walking back to my car seeing his leg patched up in a small amount of bandages did I feel bad for him, knowing that there was a possibility that he didn't actually try and hit me with his pitch. My bag suddenly felt heavier and I felt really really bad. After that day, I started to follow the idea that forgiveness will always work better than retaliation and violence even when the tensions are high.