As a kid I was fond of playing baseball. I was not a particularly good hitter. When I was cornered into two strikes, the bad image of a strike out would pop into my mind. I try to compose myself, but the negative feeling would persist.
There's the pitch, and the ball comes towards me as if in a slow motion. I swing my bat, and sure enough, I miss the ball. Often by wide margins.
To this day, the experience of anticipating a strike out and the actually see it happening remains a persistent item in my collection of feelings. I should say that I rather enjoy the going down. Even if you strike out, there would be always another at bat.