During the final game of my first season of baseball, when I was in fifth or sixth grade, I was out in right field like my baseball hero at the time, Sammy Sosa. The games were not very interesting because it was in the transition period between using pitching machines and getting actual kids to pitch so not many balls made it out into the outfield. In one of the last innings of the game, my team was leading slightly and there was already two outs but the bases were loaded with the opposite team. A pop-up fly was sent my way but since I did not have glasses at the time I overestimated how far forward I needed to run and ended up sliding on my knees and catching the ball, half on my glove and half on my chest. There was a slight moment of quietness and then the parents in the stands cheered as I got to my feet and trotted back to our dugout. That was one of my first memories of playing baseball and it was a great experience.