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Monday, April 11, 2011

Hey Batta, Batta, Batta...SuWing Batta!

Abby had her first scrimmage tonight.  I should've known on the first day of practice how the team would perform as a whole when the Coaches' wives said, "We're just here to have fun!"  Don't get me wrong, I am not overly competitive and believe that sports should be an enjoyable sport for all, but weren't we just IN T-ball??  This is the first year of coach-pitch fastpitch softball. It's time to learn the game.  How else is my sweet Abby going to take home the gold in the College World Series?

The other team chanted, "Hey batta batta...", "2-4-6-8 who do we appreciate...", "C'mon Kayla, you can do it, put a little powa to it, hit it (stomp, stomp) hard..."  They fielded like pros, stayed in "ready position" at all times, batted like their bats were golden. 

Our team stood ON home plate to bat, swung the bats like they were lead, turned and shrieked when the ball flew our way, cried at times, looked generally uninterested in the whole event.  Lines from movies like "The Bad News Bears", "Major League", and "A League of Their Own" rumbled through my head...{{JUSt a bit outside!}}} {{{There's no crying in BASEball!}}}

Our sweet angels were getting creamed, and the other team was playing very unfair.  One girl batted, and was thrown out by our girls at first base.  Her dad, the first base coach, said, "She's my daughter.  I'm not calling her out."  So, she stayed...on base...after she was thrown out.  She went on to 2nd, and stole third.  "Can we steal in this league?" I asked.  "No, we cannot."  I felt like I was in the twilight zone.  No one said a thing.

It brought me back to my glory days of softball, as I pitched against the oversized girls on K-Oil.  If you played softball with me in Youngsville or Broussard, you remember K-Oil.  These girls were tall, huge, mean, and tough.  They had a star for every home run they hit.  They had a lot of stars...all over their uniform. They were known for their line drives which I had the misfortune of stopping a few times...and not always with my glove.  I picture them now as these giant, grizzly-faced, ogres.  They probably were not that at all.  They were just good.  Every year.  Good.  It didn't matter how good we were.  They were always better.

We have another scrimmage Friday with no practice between today and then.  Can't wait.

Lesson: Invest in glove for extra practice times this season.



  1. I know what you mean. My first year in softball, we lost EVERY game. By our last year together, we won every game....and had to run basses when we only won by 3 points. It is possible. By the way, you were a pitcher, I was a catcher.....I knew we worked well together...

  2. I remember one moment from our sweet T-Ball games. You know what I'm talking about~you're scarred for mom's fault :-(
    Those were fun times, but you are correct, it's time to get things cracking! Go Abby!

  3. Hally, you are fooling no one with your "anonymous" entry. We are all well aware that your mom broke my bat. The one my dad had lovingly wood-burned the lightning bolt into with my name emblazened across the side...just like in...{{sniff, sniff}},...The Natural!!!!

  4. Thanks for the encouraging words, Colette. Only time will tell. But tonight, I wanted to poke my eyeballs out.

  5. My Mom still feels bad to this day! She was a tough cookie back in the day! Wait, she still is :-p
    Good Luck my friend! Wyatt is coming up to that stuff reaaaal soon.