The Ball Game

I love all of the baseball talk out there on the blogosphere. You see, I am an avid lover of the game. It isn't my fault, really. It's in my genes.

I remember walking, and then learning to throw a ball. I remember both of my parents coaching our teams and practicing with us in the backyard. I recall driving the three hour trek to Arlington, Texas a dozen times or so each summer so that we could cheer on the Texas Rangers as a family. When my Mom worked nights and was sleeping when I arrived home from school, I would turn on WGN and cheer on my Chicago Cubs.

I threw myself into softball wholeheartedly. The night before my first ever tryout (7th grade) where you actually had to make the team, I turned my bed mattress up against the wall and threw into it for hours, practicing my reach and dives for each ball that ricocheted off the mattress. I trained at practices, and always tried to play my best. I went to summer pitching clinics in order to become a pitcher. Each year at the College World Series (which my family attended religiously), I studied the college pitchers each and every move. I practiced these new throws anywhere I could. While I managed to never break a window, I certainly did place a few dings into my Mom's Camry!

I considered trying to walk on at Oklahoma State my freshman year, but pursuing an engineering degree just didn't mesh with University level athletics (not if you wanted to graduate any time soon!), so I stuck to playing rec leagues. I loved it. There was something refreshing about taking just a bit of the competitive edge off, and I learned to play (mostly) for fun.

Tonight I played my first game in 18 months. Thrilling! I am so glad to be back out there. I have been unable to play while Colin was working on his thesis. Before that, I would play whenever I was not pregnant. Well, not very pregnant anyway. I played up until 15 weeks pregnant with Philip. I didn't think it was too bad, but the umpire looked at me at an at-bat and said "this is your last game, right?". Poor guy. I was so worried that he would have a heart attack watching me on the bases that night. To be honest, the biggest struggle for me concerning pregnancy is not being able to play sports. That is truly a sacrifice I have to make!

But I got to play tonight. The weather was perfect. It enraptured me to be out on the field once again. And I thank God for giving me another season, another opportunity to play. I am never guaranteed another season, only the present. Too many athletes have fallen victim to accidents, health issues, or other unforeseen circumstances which have brought their "careers" abruptly to an end. I, for one, am thankful to still be playing.