It was the summer before my third grade. Our girls' softball team was facing real pitchers (投球手)1the first time. Before that, we could just hit the ball on the tee (球座). When the coach started pitching, hitting became2for me. I missed every single pitch. From the side, I heard my teammate Emily laughing at3. My face got hot and my throat felt like it had a softball stuck in. At that moment, I was starting to4playing softball.
The next afternoon, when Mum said it was time to play the game, I told her I was5. She allowed me to lie down for a while. So I went to my room and6myself in bed. This was difficult for me because I was fine and just7to avoid softball.
Soon Mum came in and said, "Time to go!" She didn't even ask if I felt8. I imagined Emily laughing from the sideline, and9I really did feel sick to my stomach. I began crying loudly. Still, Mum pulled my team T-shirt over my head. She said, "You have to10for the rest of the season, and only after that we can talk about 11you'll continue next year." She added that practice was what I needed, not12. She promised to practise with me.
I got two hits that afternoon, and Emily didn't make a13. Every week after that, I practised at home14I got to be one of the best hitters on the team.
That15taught me that being afraid is part of life, and I can do whatever is expected of me if I keep working and practising.
