I smiled, politely laughed and, did nothing. Except maybe gloat at the compliment. When someone puts confidence behind your abilities, encourages you to try something out of your norm and believes in you, makes it pretty easy to give it a strong consideration. Sometimes it leads to action. So, a week later I got an email from the 'coach' announcing our first practice will be Monday night, just bring a glove. So I did.
I have maybe played softball 3 times at camp, 1-pitch softball at family camp. Prior to that... when I was 16 and playing for the Bowmansville Bobcats. Do the math... that's about 15 years ago. Gulp. I think my glove is storing up nostalgia in my parents garage. I grabbed a (leftie, rightie, which hand does the glove go on - left 'cause I throw with the right. Check) from camp's public athletic gear box. It had a rip in it.
Bowmansville Wildcats circa 1994. Oh my. Big glasses. Big frizz hair. Caps we never wore but had to be on the team photo (?). Dad didn't coach this team. His high accolades from coaching the champion little league team of my brothers - The Royals, weren't applied to softball until the next age category, the Bobcats. I arrive at the field - in the heart of Perry County. Something about church softball feels right in PC. :) With an ounce of fake confidence I stroll out to the motley crew bundled up on this chilly windy March day. Ask to join people warming up. Others were making comments of how they'll feel sore tomorrow and while I fear the same thing, I pretend like its a non-issue for me. It's been a loooong time since I've played catch. A guy throw's the ball to me and it hits right where the rip (i.e. no padding) is and I think ouch I forgot that's how it stung when Kirby would whip balls at me.
No one knew what was going on but we all migrated to various parts of the field and someone asked who wants to bat first? No way! Do I remember how to do that? My last swing was during homerun derby on Wii and that was no pretty sight. Not going to the infield either. I like my shins and in soccer at least I wear shin pads. Flashbacks of my 3rd base shin bruises instill fear in me. I'll stick to the outfield, show off that I can run like the wind and chase down fly balls. Ha. The first 3 or so batters swing and swing and swing and can't hit the ball. Oh boy, gonna be a long night standing here feeling awkward. Shoot I don't know if I can make contact between bat & ball.
Eventually I repeat to myself enough times that batting is simple - just watch the ball hit the bat, it's all about eye contact. I go in to get in line to bat. First pitch, a little contact and slow grounder to third. Second pitch was low but I was determined to swing at everything and not waste anyone's time. Foul hit into the backstop. And THEN THE Athletic girl started to connect. Oh yeah baby! Mind you, I was swinging at everything and not terribly fast but I think I peppered the area around the short stop, 3rd, just over their heads, line drive a time or two and a few that looked good. After one to the outfield someone called 'homerun'. I said at least a double. Best part - the 'coach' who was acting as catcher to best scout his troops was joined by the other leader and said 'this girl can hit.' YES. Booyah. I connected 2-3 more times and I was done. Sooo relieved that I made contact. Got a comment out of the coach's mouth. Success.
I was not planning to play. Its a summer league. Um, I work at a summer camp. Not conducive. Buuuut, I am curious to see what how I can help. Being in my 30's its not so fun to feel like I'm having to tryout for something. But this was nothing compared to the fail that was Inferno semi-pro women's soccer. We'll see.
Best part of the whole evening though was calling my daddy on my drive home and letting him know that all the hours he poured into me teaching me how not to throw like a girl, pitching to me in the front yard (we're talking a 5 gallon bucket full) and coaching tween girls softball had made this moment possible. Mad props to my daddy. He may not be a great communicator but I know he loves me and time investment means a lot to me and he showed it through giving me softball. yes, softball, which I claim as my first (not best) sport.
Crud picture but I am the one in the white shirt, blue knickers on the right. My dads all stars from the Bobcats ~ 1996.Still enjoying making my daddy proud. :)
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