Play Ball!!

Some of my fondest memories from when I was growing up are the days I spent playing with my brothers.  I remember one summer in particular when I was about 9 or 10 years old where it seemed like we played baseball every day.  The previous spring, I played had softball for the first time.  I was bad.  And when I say I was bad, I mean I was bad.  I was the right fielder and last batter on a mediocre team, and that was when they let me play.  It was slow-pitch softball, and I couldn't hit the ball if my life depended on it.  I couldn't catch anything either, even if it rolled right to me.  If my family was embarrassed, they didn't show it.  At that age, I didn't really care how bad I was; all I knew was that I was having fun.

That summer was the summer of baseball, or at least that's how I remember it.  There were soccer field right by our house, and we used to head down there with the neighborhood kids.  There were no bases, no backstop, no infield, nothing.....just a big wide open field.  The number of bases (usually gloves) was determined by the number of kids playing that particular day.  If I remember correctly, it was usually two bases and home plate (also a glove).  Since we didn't have enough kids for full teams, we had random rules, like if you hit it past the group of three trees it was a double and if you hit it past the backstop at the other end it was a homerun; things like that. 

That was the summer my older brother taught me to play baseball.  I don't know if he remembers or not, but it's something I'll never forget.  He would give me little pointers, like showing me how to hold the bat, or telling me how to hold the glove if the ball was coming a particular way.  Little by little, I got better.  He never criticize, he never teased. 

Looking back now, I can't believe how lucky I was to have a brother like that who was always looking out for me.  I didn't mention that I was the only girl playing baseball that summer.  I don't know if the boys let me play with them because they didn't think about it or because my brothers made them.  Like I said, I was bad.  And boys don't usually like girls playing with them when they can't play.  I'm also amazed at how he taught me.  He never once embarrassed me or made fun of me, he never once told me I couldn't do something; he just gave me little tips along the way, small enough so I wouldn't feel overwhelmed, big enough to make a difference.  The following spring, I was the shortstop on my softball team, a team that finished in second place.

I only played one more year of softball as a kid before moving on to other sports.  As an adult, I've played on various co-ed teams over the years.  I recently joined a team with my law school classmates.  I hadn't played in about 5 years so I'm a bit rusty, but thanks to the fundamentals that my brother showed me all those years ago, I can hold my own.  Last week was our first game, and I managed to hit a homerun.  I'd like to think he would have been proud.  This week was our second game, and I managed to strike out.  I'd like to think he would have laughed.