Goddamn it, I love softball.
I absolutely love this ridiculous game. It brings out all the worst qualities I love in myself. I'm very competitive, and I want to fight for every win, but I'm also a beginner player. I play to make the other team think I'm less.
I like to play catcher. I don't have a great arm or a lot of confidence, but I will put myself out there for my team. Catching pop flies is my favorite thing. Well, besides beating the infield. I play like a girl. I play like I'm pretty (which, if you weren't aware, I'm not), until I can run.
I ruined my knees in high school. Lacrosse and seven years of competitive riding did a lot more damage than I would have thought at the time. I can roll both femurs out of my hips at will. I can't run for long distances now, but I can run bases. It's my freedom now. I can barely make contact with the ball, but it's earned me new nicknames; gazelle, crazy legs. If the base coach says I can beat it, I will run like I can. Most of the time, I do.
Tonight I collided with a third baseman, and of course, rolled my leg. Awesome. Still, I saw him guarding the base. He wasn't going to stop me. I was going to fight it out.
I love the thrill. I love the accomplishment every time I feel I've improved. I love the sounds from the crowd every time I beat a play.
You throw, I'll run. Do you want to bet on the play?
What We Found in the Divorce: Part V — Time
9 years ago
Sports is one thing that I have zero knowledge of and talent in (not counting the time a terribly-angled volleyball serve accidentally went through the basketball hoop in junior high). This was a great glimpse into the fun and joy found in an activity I have always dreaded. The femurs part sounds terribly painful, though. Isn't it frustrating when our talents are slowly chiseled away by our bodies? I'm glad you can still run the bases, at least!
ReplyDeleteThanks! I'm not very good at softball, but it really is fun playing with people who don't take it too seriously.
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