Softball

When I was a sophomore in high school, I tried out for the JV softball team. The summer before I had played slow-pitch in the city’s parks and recreation program. It was a lot of fun. My dear friend had played JV our freshman year and said it was really cool and that I should give it a try. Why not?! I’m a decent batter–never one for home runs but fairly consistent at dropping the ball between second base and right field. “Put the ball where the people aren’t,” my dad used to say. I had enjoyed pitching slow-pitch and wanted to learn fast pitch. I had a heart for the game and was so eager to join. The day came for the announcements of who had made the team and who had been cut. I wasn’t on the roster. I was heartbroken. I had worked so hard. I had wanted it so badly. And it didn’t matter. I had lots of theories as to why, but at the end of the day, it didn’t matter. My name wasn’t on that list.

That evening, after my dad got off work, he came in to check on me. I had isolated in my room, crying. Why didn’t they pick me? Wasn’t I good enough? There were a lot of tears. I have to commend my dad, he gave me just enough time and space to feel my feelings, then he gave me a piece of advice I really appreciated. He gently and firmly encouraged me to go to every practice and game anyway–to participate, learn, and grow, to not throw in the towel, to refuse to be sidelined completely.

That season I became a softball “manager.” I helped with equipment and keeping the records during games. I went to every practice, did all the drills, and worked really hard to be a part of the team even though I didn’t get to play in the games. At the end of the season, we had a celebratory picnic/bbq. Much to my surprise, I was awarded “Most Dedicated Player.” My junior year I did make the JV team. And while I had failures and successes, I had proven that I was willing to try and do the work. Truthfully, summer league was always my favorite because it was more about fun than during the school season. And don’t get me started about the inequity between the boys’ field and the girls’ field…*insert eye roll here. Nevertheless, softball was an incredible learning experience for me in school. Invaluable.

I think about this time with great fondness for my dad’s wisdom and love. I think about being a kid facing rejection, feeling small and less than, being left out and doing so with grit and grace. That kid is still in here teaching me how it’s done.

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