Robinson, the iconic number 42, was not just an awe-inspiring baseball player, but an advocate for social justice among people of color, and most notably, my favorite player of all time. As the first African American man to play professional baseball, Robinson challenged social norms and went against the accepted principles of his time; a feat accomplished through his dedication, determination, and drive for change. Breaking the MLB's color line and eliminating racial segregation within a sport whose greatness should be shared amongst all men, is merely one of Robinson's notable achievements. Of course, following my love for number 42, the Los Angeles Dodgers have been one of my favorite teams all my life. Unfortunately, growing up in Arizona, I was never able to attend an in-person game at Dodger Stadium, but following the D-Backs at Chase Field sure came close. The spirit of baseball fans is something that never fails to lighten my day. I will never forget the bustling crowds, exciting chants, and sweet treats that filled my day at a baseball game. Walking through the crowded seats, I always dreamt of playing on that field one day. Although my Major League aspirations faded as I matured, I still enjoy the thrill of running the bases and playing infield with my high-school team, the Spartans. Growing up in Little League and now playing in high school, baseball has always been a key part of my life. Practice every day after school allows a two-hour escape from the stress of academics and other aspects of my busy lifestyle. Even when shrunk down to the scale of 2A, my school's division, baseball games will always be near the top of my list of most fun things to do. Aside from the thrill of a stadium, standing behind the chain-link fence as I cheer on my teammates walking up to bat is a feeling I will never forget. When the time to play defense comes, we rush out of the dugout, prompted by a quick team huddle, and I find my footing just the right distance away from the first base bag. I stare at the pitcher's glove, anxiously waiting for the ball to be released. He winds up, released, and boom; strikes down the middle. I exhale the breath I'd been holding in and reposition myself for the next pitch. This time, my eyes widen as I hear the crack of the metal bat, and I chase after the ball coming toward me. I quickly scoop it into my glove, dust swiftly following my footsteps, and I dive back into the bag to tag the runner out. When I fail, I recover and prepare for the next pitch, this time staring back at my pitcher's glove, waiting to pick off the runner who has slightly too large a lead. Three attempts later, we pick him off as the third out of the inning and run back to the dugout to gather our batting gear. The perfectly choreographed sequence that we practice every day is never the game that we encounter. That is what I love about baseball; the unpredictable sport that will always leave you wanting more. I devastatingly tore my labrum last season, but after almost a full recovery, I cannot wait to get that beautiful red dirt back on my cleats next February.

Since I was a child, I have always been mesmerized by the fascinating sciences of the human body. The infinitely expanding reservoir of information about our species that I am able to learn from, allows me to pursue my interest in any are I choose. The intricate processes and complex functions that our bodies automatically engage in have spiked my interest for years. Details that cannot be seen with the naked human eye, but are rather only revealed through deep of inquiry and examination are what fuels my persistent curiosity. I am able to look in any area of the body and still be perplexed by its intricacy and be met with unsolved scientific mysteries. Although masterfully created, the seemingly indestructible nature of our bodies is a facade that confused me. I question how such a perfect system can simultaneously be so susceptible to failure? How can this elaborate network of systems fall apart in an instant? Whether it be injury, sickness, or an unexplainable complication, it quickly became obvious to me that we in fact are fragile beings whom must treasure the health of our bodies. When disrupted, put into a state of uncertainty, or exposed to susceptibility of failing, the same system that the perfect composure was just ripped from masterfully works to defend itself. What could possibly be more interesting than a system that doesn't just fuel the complex nature of humanity, but also can repair itself? Nothing. Observing this fragility and learning the significance of life pushed me towards the desire to uphold the health of the human body, and work to restore the precious quality of life that is ripped from so many. Dealing with personal experiences such as injury of my shoulder which eventually led to surgery, confirmed my interests of the human body. Being able to witness the repair of my shoulder firsthand was the final push towards deciding to pursue medicine. The possibility that I could some day be the one in the white coat was baffling; the unfathomable accomplishment that was now so possible. This powerful drive lead me to dedicate myself to becoming a doctor, and towards gaining the skills to help the people of our world. Healing disease, sickness, injury, and the like all set aside, the mere fact that I could dedicate my lifelong career to something that infinitely fascinates me is reason enough to do whatever it takes to get there. I will not stop until the powerful letters of "Dr." and "M.D" blissfully hug my first and last name.