The skill I never learned – softball
Every year in March since I’d started my job at the software company the email popped into my computer, softball season is here – join the team! Not one for after-work camaraderie, I’d always clicked delete and moved on. But after 4 years of hearing about all the great fun they were having and especially that they’d finally won the top honors that season, I was determined to join. Luckily for me there wasn’t a tryout and this was a coed team short on women players.
I’ve never thought of myself as the overweight 50-ish woman that I am. In my mind, I am a youthful, energetic person who loves aerobics and cycling. Never mind that I stopped going to the gym every day when I started working for the software company. Although I’d been on several cycling tours in Europe, my training was done for three or four months prior to each trip, and it had been two years since that killer visit to Greece’s torturous mountain roads.
I remembered the days of high school softball and the only team sport I played after school. A dim recollection of being socked in the chest with the softball didn’t discourage me – I have better reflexes now. Fond memories of my father tossing the ball for me to hit superceded any of those thoughts. The fact that I couldn’t throw the ball worried me a little, but what the heck, I can learn anything I set my mind to.
My husband and I drove to the sporting goods store. One of my favorite photographs of him is one that was taken when he played varsity baseball in high school. He was a catcher. He still even had his catcher’s glove. So he would be able to advise and help pick out everything for the first game.
First I needed shoes. I tried on several pairs and chose the black leather Adidas with this long tongue that folded back over the laces and attached with Velcro. I felt much taller in these rubber-spiked shoes. Very professional looking if I might say so myself as I admired them in the mirror.
Over in the glove section, I was amazed to see a whole aisle of the store lined ceiling to floor with gloves for ball playing. Gloves for left and right hands, sizes from tiny to giant, lots of colors in light and dark, black leather with soft furry lining to protect the wrist, contrasting laces of every imaginable style. Gloves specially for catching, first base, pitching – I was surprised there weren’t specific gloves for afternoon and evening games.
I’ve never thought of myself as the overweight 50-ish woman that I am. In my mind, I am a youthful, energetic person who loves aerobics and cycling. Never mind that I stopped going to the gym every day when I started working for the software company. Although I’d been on several cycling tours in Europe, my training was done for three or four months prior to each trip, and it had been two years since that killer visit to Greece’s torturous mountain roads.
I remembered the days of high school softball and the only team sport I played after school. A dim recollection of being socked in the chest with the softball didn’t discourage me – I have better reflexes now. Fond memories of my father tossing the ball for me to hit superceded any of those thoughts. The fact that I couldn’t throw the ball worried me a little, but what the heck, I can learn anything I set my mind to.
My husband and I drove to the sporting goods store. One of my favorite photographs of him is one that was taken when he played varsity baseball in high school. He was a catcher. He still even had his catcher’s glove. So he would be able to advise and help pick out everything for the first game.
First I needed shoes. I tried on several pairs and chose the black leather Adidas with this long tongue that folded back over the laces and attached with Velcro. I felt much taller in these rubber-spiked shoes. Very professional looking if I might say so myself as I admired them in the mirror.
Over in the glove section, I was amazed to see a whole aisle of the store lined ceiling to floor with gloves for ball playing. Gloves for left and right hands, sizes from tiny to giant, lots of colors in light and dark, black leather with soft furry lining to protect the wrist, contrasting laces of every imaginable style. Gloves specially for catching, first base, pitching – I was surprised there weren’t specific gloves for afternoon and evening games.
posted by Anne B Wright at 10:34 AM
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