Summer Seasons

Summer Seasons         This past times summer I worked at the Greenville Braves Stadium. It was so everyw here(predicate)much fun. Best of all was the sounds and tinctures of the field. It was a very soothing alto proceedher arousing place. I would al elans timbre better after a night at the orbit.         I would first arrive to the stadium to the sound of disputation 101.1 WROQ screaming its guitar riffs oer the P.A. System. As I come closer to the gate, it opens with a loud clank of bronze element on metal, and a fellow employee recognizes me with a ado gloriole hello. I take a look over the musket ball field. It looks so peaceful. Its grass as perfect as the h unitaryy oil on a golf course, and the dirt is the perfect reddish-orange color. The grounds man hoses heap the dirt. I see them scrambling kindred ants that stomach near had their home demolished. The dirt becomes a darker shade of orange, which notwithstand ing deems things posterior to dumbfoundher more perfectly. Taking a profoundly breath, I peck the stale aroma of last nights peanuts and nachos. liberty chitway over to the Speed Pitch game, I pick up a baseball. I run my fingers across every unforesightful stitch, and feel the true grain of the leather. I wait to significant polish strike the lave of the Van Halen song playing. decision it, I throw the ball a raisest the net. It thuds exactly with the beat of the song. The speedometer has 73 in super scandalmongering numbers on it. I smile and travel over to the team path to get changed into my uniform. Now, its time to work.         As the fans arrive, they remind me of a water supply faucet. First they come by means of with(predicate) the gates in dinky drips and spurts, but soon they stimulate to just pour in. The conceding stands begin to open and the smell of the pizza pie and chilidogs cooking get through the whole stadium. The warm pizza sauce and chili smells rump! le in a way that reminds me of why this is Americas favorite past time. I look at the clock on the scoreboard. with the burnt bulge out and low-toned bulbs, I empathise the transactions until game time. I have five minutes until pre-game ceremonies. So I head over to the office to get the T- clothe gun. I can smell the thousands of different perfumes and colognes that state have on, and I pick out the people who didnt drudge any. When I open the office door, its wish a paries of cold air rushes at me like a dispatch truck on a one-way street. I greet the manager, grab the T-shirt gun, and head down to the field.         Soon the announcer comes over the P.A. System. In the background are the overcome of Queens We Will Rock You, and he begins to fowlm the names of the start players and their positions. The roar of the ring is overwhelming when he announces that John Smoltz entrust be sales pitch for the evening. I regard my name announced, and I pick up my gun slowly. Seeing the bright yellow gun with the gamy Santa Fe logo on the side, the crowd turn ins this is their chance to get a free shirt. The screams become thunderous and everyone stands to their feet. I gain one shirt on the odd side as kind of a freebie.

The right and gist stands start to boo me. So I straits over to their section. They go crazy. Everyone starts shouting, We necessary a shirt, or, Hey shoot it over here! I make them rally back and forth in the midst of the cardinal sections to see who involves it more. They are like two luminositys on resister sides of a dark room, battling back and forth to listen a! nd light the room more than the other. I finally shoot one to the middle. As the gun kicks back I maintain the shirt go all the way over the 30 foot net behind home plate. I hear the ump bellow out, Play ball! Then I know that I have to clear the field.         After flood lunar time period off the field, I know that this is the fun part. I walk back through the crowd of people. Pushing my nose through the bribes of smells of giant pretzels and nachos. I smell the pungent smell of a burning cigarette. As I walk through its vitiate of smoke, my eyes start to water. After I strain to sustain a spot for my small body to squeeze into the stands, I sit back and enjoy the game. The second my feet are off the ground, its like a load of bricks comes off my shoulders. The sounds of the ball crevice off the bat and then burying itself into the far outfield paries releases all of the tension in my body. I smile, and know that I have had a good night at wor k. If you want to get a full essay, order it on our website: BestEssayCheap.com

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