KC

My Glove, KC

KC is my best friend.

KC is Golden brown with pink lining, she’s a beauty.

When I was 12 years old I told my father I wanted to play softball.

He always supported everything I did; my wanting to play softball was no different.

The first thing I thought about was which kind of glove I would have. I knew I would have a tough time finding a glove

I’m a lefty.

My father and I searched every athletic store that we knew of, we even searched the local Wal-mart but we couldn’t find any.

After 2 weeks of searching I wanted to give up, so I did.

For weeks I forgot about softball all together then one day on my way back from dinner with my parents I spotted a small store entitled “Sports gear”.

I thought to myself, maybe this could be it, why not give it one last try?

This is where I met KC. As I saw her standing in a rack with other gloves I quickly grabbed her glove with joy.

The store owner, Carol, noticed how much I wanted the glove and gave her to me for free.

I’ve had her for three years now, since the first time I stepped on a softball diamond.

I enjoy playing softball but I wouldn’t dare play softball

without her.

When a softball comes my way I trust KC to grab the ball and watch as I make a great throw.

KC is my glove,

my best friend.

KC helped me through the entire season and was there for me through the toughest plays.

KC and I prepared vigorously for this special day.

I played center field, some say the most important position in the game because we are a part of almost every play

also the hardest.

I didn’t worry because I knew I would have my best friend KC with me the entire time.

It was the second round of the regional playoffs

bottom of the 9th

they had 2 outs, we were up by two points over our rivals Northside.

We had beaten them by 10 points during the regular season.

They thought that it was an unfair game

so the tension was high.

They were out for revenge

KC and I played poorly throughout the entire game

3 errors,

2 poor throws,

and 0 hits.

It wasn’t our best game.

Their best hitter, number 7, was up to bat.

As she walked to the plate I knew the ball was coming my way.

I looked at KC with fear and told her to get ready.

Number 7 swung her bat at the first pitch and “Crack” I saw the ball coming my way.

I put KC into the air,

ran two steps,

and closed my eyes.

My body was numb.

I didn’t know whether or not I had caught the ball.

As I cautiously opened my eyes I saw a bright green ball lying inside KC.

At that moment my teammates came and greeted me with hugs and cheers,

but I said nothing because I knew who the real hero was that day

KC.

KC has always been there for me.

Glove or not she is my best friend and undoubtedly the most important thing I carry.

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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