Can't Make This Stuff Up! by Susannah B. Lewis

Author:Susannah B. Lewis
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Thomas Nelson
Published: 2019-02-19T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 11

Get in the Game, Mamas

When my daughter came to me, at seven years old, and said, “Mama, I want to play softball!” I cringed a little. Because I was a horrible softball player. I couldn’t hit the ball to save my life. I ran away screaming, arms flailing, when the ball traveled toward me at high rates of speed. And listen, sliding on dirt is impossible for a child who met a quota of four corndogs a day. It didn’t take long for me to grow tired of the humiliation, give up the game, and sit on the sidelines to watch my friends play. Honestly, I was scared my little girl had inherited my softball abilities and would be humiliated too.

During her first softball game, Natalie Ann proved to be her mother’s daughter. She couldn’t catch a ball for squat and she actually turned in a circle when swinging the bat. I was relieved we’d bought a cheap glove instead of a good one, because this wasn’t going to last long. Like me, she’d soon get tired of failing and want to pursue something else.

But each week, she was ecstatic to go back to practice. Yes, she kept striking out and the ball never made it into her glove, but she kept going. She refused to just sit in the bleachers and cheer for her friends. She wanted to be on that field, so she kept trying. She went out in the front yard and threw the ball up in the air, and after getting hit in the face a few times, she finally started catching it.

And one day, she hit the ball. Her little legs ran like the dickens and she was finally on first base, her face covered in a smile. To hear me screaming, you’d have thought she’d just nailed a walk-off homerun in World Series Game Seven! I may have teared up a little, and she may have too.

Softball soon became a large part of our lives. Natalie Ann took hitting and pitching lessons every week. I hauled an overloaded wagon packed with bats and coolers and umbrellas and bought things like eye black and Frogg Toggs and portable fans. I took more time picking out the perfect folding chair than I did picking out a couch for our living room. We even splurged on a glove and bat that cost more than my microwave.

One hot afternoon, as I sat in that overpriced, extra-padded folding chair and watched my dusty little girl at second base, I was overcome with admiration. I admired her for having the courage to charge the ball rapidly flying at her instead of screaming, with arms flailing. I admired her for having the courage to get back out there with her head held high and redeem herself after a terrible previous inning. I admired her hard work and determination. I admired her for not just sitting on the sidelines but for playing the game.

The summer of her 8U season, Natalie Ann made the all-star team.

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