By accident he finds himself doing Martial Arts training in a batting cage

Excerpt from"0" Instruction Guide on HOW to be a Superhero-Fearless entire series with Bonus Book TellMeVision ("0" Fearless 4) Kindle Edition
Time to face that fear.
Time To FACE That FEAR. I stepped in the cage. Maybe I should start off slow. Naw, I don’t do slow. I set the machine to the fastest mode.
“Hit the ball with the bat, son!” I swung the bat once and missed. Next ball hit my hip. Then I started wildly swinging the bat. I was hitting about five out of ten balls. I started to cry, as I relived the childhood memories. Memories like getting slapped when I did something wrong, crying when my peers would make fun of me, and the feelings of utter defeat and frustration when I failed. I failed and it didn’t matter how hard I tried. I took to the ground in the fetal position.
There is always something there in facing the fear. I stand to feel the pain from the impact of the baseballs to my chest and then my stomach. KEEP MOVING FORWARD! This is crazy. “Shut up, or I’ll give you a reason to cry!” Those memories, I still cry from. I started flinching, and closing my eyes. Pow! A baseball hits me in my nose. I fall to the ground. I open my eyes to see my blood dripping to the concrete. My mind goes to a flash back: Me getting thrown down to the ground by Williams, the regular school bully, after doing a pretty punch kick combination. “Get Up! Get Up!” Baseballs hit the back of the cage. Then I remembered m­­­­y drunken father picking me off the ground and slamming me down. I’d hit the ground so hard that the rug burns bled.    “I JUST WANT TO TURN YOU INTO A REAL MAN!” I brought that rage of wanting to beat my dad to free sparing. Free sparing, when ya’ got protective pads over your feet, hands, and head. All it is is kicks and punches to the head and torso. No grappling at all. I earned my black belt at the age of thirteen. I’d free spar the adult green through red belts. I’d dominate them. Most of them didn’t have but mere months of experience.

“GET UP! GET UP!” Balls were hitting the fence and ricocheting, striking my ear. It is reminding me of slap boxing my father; stung my face so bad that I’d see red. I was so frightened outside the rules of free sparing. Most of the time, I was too inadequate to defend myself. Every opponent became my invincible father. But, every now and then when I did land a good kick and punch it worked beautifully. “GRRRRRRAGGGHHHH!” I stand up and run fearlessly toward the baseball throwing machine. It was shooting out puffs of air and I looked around. I saw crowd around the cage just staring at me in shock. 

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