Showing posts with label softball. Show all posts
Showing posts with label softball. Show all posts

Friday, June 10, 2011

The theme continues...


Playing in the sunshine is lots of fun
Even if I don't get many runs
The pop of fly balls, the thrill of game
Without it Friday nights wouldn't be the same

Last week I learned that "its all good"
that stressin' isn't necessary when hangin' with the Herd
this week I learned to stand in my spot
even if that required the guys to talk a lot

then they gave me the team ball!
my contribution might be small
but they don't seem to care
maybe its all my flair?

So come find us next week
Tibbets field #5 is what you seek
'til the mercy bell rings
we'll be doing our thing



(yes, I'm planning to keep my day job)

Saturday, June 4, 2011

Stress, Patheticism, and Softball

Who knew that I was such a stress-case? I laugh because I suspect everyone knows. Yesterday was my first softball game. My first game of my first team. And I stressed a bit about it. I was terrified that I would instantly pull a muscle when running for the ball (like I did in practice) and patheticism would set in. I suspect "patheticism" isn't a word, but "the act of being pathetic" surely sums up my fears.

My kids must have thought I was nuts. "quiet in the car on the way to the game; mommy is stressed". "Um, mom? Isn't softball supposed to be fun?" "Shhhh"

The first inning of the game found me hanging out in right field. The sunshine was lovely, the field green, my terror palatable, my children screaming.

Yes, my children screaming because the Big Guy fell on the sidewalk and scraped up both his knees. I can see my oldest daughter Sweetness holding him and trying to carrying him back to me, and I'm STRESSED because I know I can't leave my spot and Hubby can't leave his spot and what are we supposed to do? But, all things work out and someone comforted the Big Guy and the screaming stopped and my stress level dropped a bit. And then we came in from the field and it was my turn to bat and the stress level jumped right back up...until I struck out and mortification replaced stressification (another new word or two!).


Then I got to play catcher for awhile. That was fun. The ref (ump?) was quite helpful. He would say things like "you might want to move in front of home plate when the ball is in play so the runner doesn't clobber you trying to come home" and "if you stand back, the ball will bounce right to you". And more often than not, the ball found its way into my glove.


Right field is nice because the ball doesn't come to you very often, so it isn't very stressful. Catcher is nice because you get to be involved constantly, but then "the play" comes to home plate and you know everyone wishes you were more of a baller and could handle a 95 mph ball being thrown at you.

Anyway, my truly great moment was when I came up to bat and I popped the ball up. I thought it was coming down on my head so I ducked a little and the catcher 'bout knocked me over trying to get to the ball. She (the catcher) knocked the visor off my head, so I tried to right it...then I realized that the rest of my team was yelling "run, Lisa, you have to run". Apparently the time for righting your visor is after you've reached first base. Who knew? I swear I thought that ball was foul. Classic Lisa.

We played a double header and I think it was part way through the second game when I finally started to relax. Clearly the likihood of my making a mistake is pretty high, but a lot of mistakes get made in a game and life goes on. You are still hanging out with a great group of people enjoying the sunshine and the sport. Can't wait till next week!

Friday, June 3, 2011

Its all about the Jersey


Sometimes life sneaks up on you and you find yourself enthralled by something you hadn't expected. This week I'm unexpectedly enthralled by the jersey.

Sports jerseys are a fact of life for some families. They grew up playing on sports teams and the jerseys probably piled up on the floor of their closet. I didn't grow up playing sports. My childhood was filled with fun and friends and family, but the only sport I ever got to play was bowling. (Do you "play" bowling? It seems like you "go" bowling.) Sports just wasn't in playbook.

As I reached adulthood, I began to introduce myself to sports. I jogged a little. I rollerbladed a little. I wakeboarded a little. I skiied a little. I played a little ultimate frisbee at lunch with friends from work. It was all fun, but I didn't realize there was more to team sports than that.

And then I got invited to play on a co-ed softball team this summer. And I purchased a softball glove. And I purchased cleats. And I purchased gloves and pants. And then they handed me...a jersey. It's blue. It has MY number on it. It has MY team name on it. Its my first jersey. Yes, I know it is little more than a teeshirt with numbers ironed on...but it is a jersey to me.


I find myself smiling when I think of the jersey. I'm not even sure I know why. Does it represent the chance to make up for something I wish I had growing up? Am I thrilled to be part of a team? I'm not a very competitive person. I'm too busy worrying about how everyone else in the world is feeling to care about winning, although now I can worry about how MY team will feel if we don't win. Perhaps that will knock some competitive spirit into me.

Stay tuned for my next post...where we figure out if playing the game of softball is as fun as owning a jersey.