It's baseball season! How exciting is that?
Ok, I guess it depends on who you are. My nieces play softball, which is always fun to watch. Well, it's getting more fun. When they're little (like my nephew's T-ball team) it's not very fun because it seems that everyone wins and you can get 27 strikes and still have a chance to win. Lame.
But now they are on more competitive teams and they're actually good games for the most part. Wait, I haven't been home for a softball season in at least three years. Maybe it's not as good as I remember... huh.
I played when I was kid. I was good too, I think. When I was younger I was stuck out in the outfield. I hated it because no one could ever hit that far so I didn't ever have anything to do. But when I got older, I pitched and played first base. It was slow pitch. There's no way I could have done that weird underhand fast pitch they do now. I loved being pitcher. It meant that no matter how boring the game got, I still had something to do. And I wasn't half bad.
I remember one time when a line drive was hit at my head, I put up my glove to protect my face- and caught the ball! Sweet! Then another time when a line drive was going just over my head and I put my arm up in reflex and caught it.
I never played super competitive ball like my sister or my niece. I just played Chubbuck league. We would sign up and then get assigned to a team. Sometimes the teams were good and sometimes not so much. There was one year I will never allow myself to live down. I'm still embarrassed about that team. The coach had a daughter on the team- she was the prissy girly girl in my class at school. Long blonde hair, beautiful clothes, all the most popular friends. Because her daddy was the coach he let her name the team. We were the Beautiful Butterflies. Is that not the STUPIDEST name for a team ever? We were up against teams like the Tigers, the Bulls, The Bobcats... Mascots that are supposed to be fierce. And we were stuck with the Beautiful Butterflies.
It reflected in team spirit too. We were crap. We only won one game that year- and it was because the other team had to forfeit. Plus the uniforms were about as ugly as one can imagine. Yellow. Ugh. White shirts with yellow trimming and yellow iron wording and a yellow visor with white BB on it. Gross.
I always got in trouble for throwing the bat. Oopsy. I would hit it, then chuck the bat behind me as I ran the bases. I guess I hit the umpire one time. Soooorrrr-yyyyy. I could hit hard and I guess it was a good thing because my mom always said that I spent too long running in one place (translation: I can't run).
I miss playing. I haven't played in years and I doubt I could even catch or throw a ball. Wimp. But it's still fun to watch. One of my favorite summer activities in Denver was seeing the Rockies play. They hardly ever won when I went to the games, but still, the whole mob mentality was fun.
This game was my last Hoorah in Denver. I went with my parents. Is it lame of me that I think the grass is really pretty?
Anyway, It's time to break out the ol' mitt and toss around the horse hide! Batter up!