Softball

I love playing slow-pitch softball. I played for all 8 semesters that I went through seminary. Most of the people that I met on my own were because of intramural softball. I've played in just about every weather condition - sweltering heat, freezing cold, dead grass, rain-soaked grass, perfect crisp nights - you name it and I've probably played in it or something close. (I've never played in the snow, but I did play when it was about 40 degrees outside.)


My fitness goals are measured in terms of my softball playing abilities. One semester, I wanted to be in shape enough to go from first to third without getting winded. I accomplished it by the end of the semester... then promptly lost it before the end of the next semester. I had a rough night once, and that night has forever shaped my approach to softball equipment.


We were playing an exhibition game before the season officially started. I think it was actually at the end of the summer - we'd still get together and play on Wednesday evenings just because we loved the game that much. I was on second base and one of my teammates hit the ball into a gap in the outfield. I was running hard for home, and I knew that the throw was coming. My instincts took over, and I slid into home... wearing shorts... and tennis shoes. As you can imagine, this was not the best idea. I ended up tearing up the right side of my right shin - completely. However, I'm no wuss, and I kept playing.

In the outfield later that game, somebody hit the ball in my direction. I take off through the dewy night and stop to catch the ball on a hop. Remember that part earlier in which I said that I was wearing tennis shoes? Well, my body stopped, but my feet kept on sliding through the wet grass. I fell backwards and smacked the back of my head on the ground.

The next day I wake up with a severely stiff neck and an infected leg. It was on that day that I decided I might need baseball socks... and cleats. Sadly, I have since moved on, and only on rare occasions to I get to bust out this fine equipment. However, I have a scar on my leg to remind me to wear my baseball socks. Yeah, so they come up past my knees and they're black. I feel like and old man that is going out to get the paper whenever I'm walking around with them on before a game. But I know that they are important... and I'm bigger than most of the people that would make fun of me for wearing them in the first place....