When I was five years old I played t-ball. If I could find my pictures I would gladly scan that t-ball team picture in. We were the cutest bunch of little ones you ever did see in the 80’s!
When I started into second grade I started summer softball. It’s kind of like the old school right of passage. I think all the girls around here played summer softball at least one summer of their lives.
This was back before girls threw pitches upwards of 80 miles per hour and threw out their arms and hips pitching. Yes, I was one of the last slow pitch girls of summer.
From eight years old to fourteen years old I played on the fields at the park downtown, in Cooleemee, and over at Center. (These are little townships all inside the tiny mapdot of a county I grew up in.) I wasn’t a strong player but I could hit pretty good. I was generally stuck in the outfield until a coach gave me a chance at first base one night in a game. I thought that the coach had officially lost their ever loving mind but we found out I was a good infielder and was pretty good at the ball making contact with the center of the glove.
I made some awesome friends in the dugout. I have some fun memories of winning when we didn’t think we could and losing when we thought we had whipped the other team. Chants and cheers, growing up….
I didn’t take to sports after those summers. I had always wished I had stuck with some sport through school but I opted out…something about self confidence being in the shitter. But I had a ball playing ball and I’m glad I had six seasons to make a library of memories in.