Last week I did something so out of my comfort zone that I still can’t believe it happened. I played baseball!
Seriously, I’m not a sports kind of person. I’m a sit in the bleachers and cheer on the team kind of person. I’ve been that way since elementary school when I would make up excuses not to participate in gym class. I was no good at anything that happened in the gym, except for jump-rope and the hula-hoop. I wasn’t coordinated enough for anything else. Of course it didn’t help that I was also the kid that got picked last for every game. That can get you down real quick especially when the trend continues throughout the rest of one’s education.
So, with all of these negative thoughts and memories crowding my mind, I tried desperately to resist my husband’s baseball team when they were short a couple girls and were asking me to play. I was there anyway, so why not, right? Eventually I gave in, but not before telling my husband that he was setting his team up to lose. His faith in me never wavered.
The game started and my heart was pounding in my ears. The first inning started with me being the catcher. I thought, great, now everybody but the batter can see how horrible I am at catching the ball. I’m pretty sure they did all see it, but they didn’t say anything. Maybe my catching wasn’t too big a deal.
When it was my turn at bat, I thought I’d lose it. I don’t even know how to hold the bat, much less hit the ball. My first few tries, not only did I stand in the wrong spot, when I swung the bat, I did a complete 180. How embarrassing. I got to walk that one since I couldn’t hit the ball. Although, my second time at bat, the ball hit me, hence the bruise on my elbow. Finally my third time at bat, I actually got a hit, and a run. I was ecstatic.
Even though I lacked all faith in myself, throughout the game, that was one thing the rest of the team showed plenty of. They cheered me on and made me feel like I was a part of the team. Want to know something? We won!!