The last time I attempted to play a "ball" sport was sophomore year of high school. I decided to join the soccer team in an attempt to reclaim my French heritage -- clearly I would be a star because my mom shares her maiden name with Didier Deschamps, the crme of French soccer. It quickly became apparent that genetics and ability do not go hand in hand and that I would need to share more than simply a last name with this Didier fellow if I was to accomplish anything resembling a goal or an assist. My coach's favorite advice: "Jourdan, when you see the ball coming in your direction, run away from it. Your job is to protect our goal from as far away from the ball as possible."
Thus when I was presented with the opportunity to join an IM softball team a few weeks ago, I decided to spare the other players the wrath that is me in cleats. We lost the first game 17-2. This was without my help. Our slogan: "We put the 'soft' in softball." They needed me. I pushed for a signing bonus -- alas, I had no glove or bat to use as leverage. I soon began to have doubts. Would I be good enough? Would people like me? Would I live through the experience? My softball peak was in third grade. I am too old, I told myself. In third grade, each student had to stay at bat until we actually hit the ball. I remember my turn lasting three days of class.
And then I went to the first day of practice. I scurried across the Green and scampered between Thornton-or-Reed-or-one-of-those-white-buildings and Rollins Chapel. I took a deep breath of decaying leaves as I took a step into the leaf litter. I then took the shortcut straight down the decaying leaf non-path, landing on my hip with my first step and sliding all the way into the large "granite of New Hampshire" boulder conveniently located in front of me. I landed in a heap at the BEMA. The coach eyed me up and down and said "Flip-flops?" (NB: flip-flops are not appropriate softball footwear.) He tried to intimidate me, in all black with one of those professional baseball caps on his head. But I was ready. I was also the only person, other than our adopted coach, at practice. We had two gloves and a baseball. What else would we need? Coach says, "Let's throw the old ball around."
I never played ball as a kid. I never played catch or stickball or dodgeball or tetherball or tennyball. So as I suavely slipped my right hand into the glove, I contemplated whether or not I could successfully pull off this ball-playing ruse. Unfortunately, I was caught immediately: "Jourdan, the glove goes on your left hand." For the record, I am left-handed and that glove was covering my valuable power-curveball-throwing machine. So we began to play catch and I didn't drop one ball. Then the smirking coach made me walk another 500 feet away from him. Hints like "it's easier to catch the ball if you have your glove up before I throw" and "MOVE! The ball isn't always going to come within an arm's length" didn't phase me. I was a phenom. I threw in such a way as to completely confuse the enemy, represented by my coach. I led him to believe that I was going to throw the ball right at his glove, but then I threw it 50 feet to his left. Sneaky, eh?
And next, this coach did something alarming. He scrunched down on his knees and put the glove in front of his face. He said, "try some underhands and aim right here." After confirming that he truly did want me to aim at his face, I began the underhand pitches. Well, we sure are lucky that I'm as responsible as I think I am, because that ball did not go near Coach's face. Or glove. Or physical presence.
Of course, we hadn't practiced the actual "batting" because we had no bats. But boy could I throw and catch. Our big game was scheduled for Wednesday and I was ready to be unleashed on the God Squad. God was on their side, I suppose, and didn't want them to be completely embarrassed -- our game was rained out. Next week I will be unstoppable. I think we're getting some bats to practice with. Besides, I already got some advice from the coach that sounds oddly familiar: "Jourdan, it's probably a really good idea for you to stay away from this ball at the games. You can tie the other team's members up far away from the ball. Trip them or run into them or something."
