(on Fridays around these parts, I take a little time to make sure that all the happy things happening in my life get a shout out)
Softball season is here again!
The past few years, I’ve been slowly whittling down the number of teams I’m playing on. A combination of being busy, the games being late (for me! I’m up at 4am every morning, and a 9:30pm game the night before makes me rather cantankerous) and the way the game really beats up my body (my mind makes decisions that my body can’t veto… and I often end up splayed out on the field, thinking, “…perhaps that wasn’t the best idea ever….”).
And this year I had intended to stop playing entirely, with the exception of the occasional subbing assignment.
But then, at the last minute, I decided to hang on to one of my teams — my most uncompetitive team. The team where when we won a game last year, that was our Best Season Ever!
I’ve played on competitive teams; in fact, just this season I gave up the most competitive recreational team that I had ever played on. But the team I held on to? Despite the lopsided win/loss record, it’s just plain ol’ fun to be on that team.
And plus, being a talented softball player (you know, for a 40-year old playing recreational ball), there’s nothing like being a big fish in a small pond to boost my self-esteem! There aren’t many teams where I get to be considered the “star” player.
So, last night? First game of the season! You know, no matter how many years I’ve been doing this, there’s always something magical and warm and fuzzy about stepping on the field for the first time in the season. Even knowing that it won’t be a stellar performance (and it wasn’t – at least defensively – for me… the team would have done better with a two-armed amputee at shortstop… no offense to two-armed amputees, of course), I was all geeked up and ready to play.
And… (drumroll, please) … WE WON!!!
Against all odds, we won our first game, tying our Best Season Ever! As awful as I was in the field, was as brilliant as I was at the plate: double, triple and two home runs. Not to toot my own horn, of course. Okay, tooting a little. My horn, that is.
It’s good to be back.