The fresh white chalk laced up my cleats in intricate spiderwebs, the smell of hot dogs frying and sizzling, the cheer from the crowd as my team jogged to our positions and lazily threw the ball around for a warmup.

I used to played in Little League until last year. It is a baseball league in my town and I was there from tee ball all the way to Majors, the highest division. It defined my life in the spring. Last year my team made it to the championship and our team was tightly knit. This was a main reason we lifted the trophy. We all worked and communicated well together and knew each other well enough to know if they were going to strikeout or about to hit a liner into the gap.

Everyone supported each other and in turn we got it back, which improved our morale and made out coaches lives easier. I believe that loose teams are a great way to build friendships, which causes wins. I made a bundle of friends and the only reason I knew them was from my experience at Wickford Little League. This makes you encounter new kids and different backgrounded youngsters.

So since we were all chums we could make the atmosphere chillaxed and not have to worry but still get the wins. Other teams would have strict rules at practice and not get to talk or they would have to run. But on our team we would laugh, make jokes at the coaches expense all without running. But still somehow during the games we came through and got the W.

Baseball is the main sport in my life and while I am going to keep playing I will take my best shot to keep the practices light, amusing and enjoy meeting new people and friends. Even though the season is over and the team is long gone we still keep in touch and sometimes hang out. We will always remember the days we had playing baseball in the beating hot sun and late night practices. Throwing the ball across the diamond and the ball smacking into the first basemen's glove and looking at the felicity on everyone’s face as we laugh and joke around. The quiet ruffle of the ball rolling to the grass and coaches yelling instructions and the pitter patter of feet as we run to the dirt and toboggan into the base. Walking off the field popping Skittles into my mouth, chalk now inside my shoe, hot dogs being devoured by the dozen and fans packing away into their cars after a solid win and memories buried in my mind.