In anticipation of our softball game Tuesday night, Andrew insisted that we visit the batting cages. (Is he a little bit competitive? What gave it away? ;-)) Earlier that day my dad reminded me that when I was a kid and we’d play in the cul de sac, I batted much better left handed than I did right (I am right handed.) I decided to give both a try. At the cages, I was able to hit the ball both ways, but felt stronger with the right, so I made the decision to bat righty that night.
We arrived at the field, met our teammates, and before long the game began. We played two games, and the first was truly a practice game–we followed most rules, but for the sake of batting practice, everyone swung until they hit the ball. Prior to this game, I thought that concept sounded fantastic. Who doesn’t want to keep batting until they get a hit? What if that fourth pitch is yours? For my first at-bat, I chose a bat, walked to the plate, and positioned myself to hit the ball right handed. The first ball was pitched, I swung and missed. Then the second. And the third. No contact. My face was burning. Can I please sit down? That was three. Then the fourth (nothing,) fifth (nothing,) and sixth (nothing.) I was mortified. I decided to switch sides and give my left hand a try; it couldn’t be any worse.
Amazingly, I hit that first pitch left handed! For the rest of the game, I hit everything I swung at. During the first game I played right field, and in the second game I played second base. While I didn’t have any outstanding plays, I don’t think I made anything on the field worse. That must count for something, right? 😀 At second base, I stopped more balls with my shins than my glove, but I stopped them! And before you think that I am exaggerating and no balls came my way, please allow me to say that I now have two serious bruises on my left leg, one on my right, one on my left foot, and one on my right elbow. I heard someone on the other team call me a “brick wall.”
Bruises aside, I really enjoyed playing. I still stand by my statement that, had I played softball as a kid, I could have been pretty good. With a little practice, there might be hope for me yet (assuming I can learn to catch the ball with my glove rather than my legs. ;-))