It's Gotta Be the Shoes

Last week's game was a relative disaster, for the team and for me. But this week was a whole different ball game.

We brought in our third baseman to pitch this week. Mike took his first try on the mound. With a few warmups, he found his pace.

Now this is slow-pitch co-ed softball. It allows for unlimited arc, but you have to pitch underhand at least over the batters head. No simple task. I recall one team's pitcher, a large football lineman-looking guy with a short ponytail, could get a wicked bit of spin on his throws.

As usual, we had to borrow a couple of girls from another team--we never seem to have enough. (We have to have at least four men and four women to play.) So Tracy and Sharon joined us.

The starting lineup:
* Pitcher: Mikey
* Catcher: Me
* 1st: Tracy
* 2nd: Katie
* 3rd: Chris/Mike
* SS: Scott
* LF: Bill
* LCF: Royce
* RCF: Sharon
* RFL: Barb


We were the home team this time, so we were in the field first. Mike's first pitches set a nice rhythm for the game.

The Diamond Diablos were ahead for awhile. The turnaround came in the top of the 6th inning. With 2 outs, a strong left-handed male hitter came up to the plate. Now, generally speaking, any of us girls in the outfield has meant that the hitters that can smack the ball out there get at least 2 bases as we chase the balls.

But this time, that script was rewritten. I watched this from behind the plate in slow motion. The ball soared out to right field, practically down the line. It was heading for Barb. She instinctively reached out her glove. And wouldn't you know it. That obedient ball nuzzled right into her hand, and she snagged that probable home run from Mr. Lefty.

I think we were so high from that moment, we weren't ready to land. The Diablos were leading 9-5. But our offense just went into overdrive. Batter after batter made it on base.

Now, last season, I hadn't been hitting very strongly. Yeah, I made it on base, but my hits were lingering in the infield, dropped just in front of third or the short stop. On Tuesday, when my bat connected with the ball, there was an audible solid smack that sent it just beyond the baseline. (I did have a great weight workout an hour or so before.)

If I remember correctly, I got 2 RBIs. This time, no face plants at home plate--the shoes worked!

Then Royce slammed that bad boy way out there, and we both booked it. I got to third base. And when the next batter connected, I took off. That run brought the score to 10-9.

That streak continued until we were ahead 13-9. Our dugout went nuts! There were people climbing the fence, hooping, hollering, cats and dogs living in harmony--utter pandamonium.

We were totally ready for the game to be over. Unfortunately, the clock wasn't on our side. The game went on, and those little devils did catch us.

Truly, though, the ultimate score didn't really matter. We had a victory over our morale. We now know we are a decent group of players.


Next week, we have a 7:30 p.m. game, thank goodness.