The Love of a Game

When I was little, I fell in love with the game of softball. It first started when I was really young, maybe 5 years old. My parents would take us out to the lawn of our apartment complex (Wymount Terrace in Provo) and spend hours throwing a ball for us to hit with a big plastic bat. We enjoyed the activity for years. When I got to be a little older, 10-11, I really fell in love with the game. I remember my dad out in the yard teaching me and making me spend hours doing silly looking drills so I would know how to really 'throw' a ball- hard and fast and anything but 'girly.' When we would go to my grandparents home on a farm in Idaho, I loved playing catch with my grandpa-an awesome ball player- who still to this day says I have the best arm he'd ever seen on a girl.

I just loved to play. I would spend hours practicing pitching against the cement wall in our backyard. I'm sure our neighbor didn't appreciate the constant noise- or the occasional wild pitch that ended up over the fence in his yard. Whenever he had time, I loved to have my dad throw me grounders or pop flys. I used to beg Kristie & Houston to come and play with me. One time I was able to bribe Kristie-by doing a chore for her-to come out and hit while I pitched. She nicked the first throw, but the ball bounced up and hit her in the mouth and she was done after that. Sometimes I could get them to play catcher or throw grounders for me, but often times the fear of the speed of the ball coming to them made for short playing sessions. We still laugh about it to this day.

I started playing on a city team for the first time when I was about 11-12. I played pitcher and one game had 13 strike-outs in a row. As I got older, I played a couple more years on a city team, and then made the junior high team where I was the starting short-stop and then 2nd baseman. One season was cut short when I broke my wrist sliding into 3rd base on a stolen base run and I ended up with a cast to my shoulder. Sadly, in high school I wasn't able to play softball because the softball and track seasons coincided and due to many different reasons, I decided to stick with track- which was a decision I never regretted. I ran with friends, my sister, had a blast, and even broke the high school 100m high hurdle record. Even though I miss playing softball, my life is busy as a wife and mother, and my time has been full with plenty of other things. However, it looks as though I may have another chance.

(The boys love playing with dad too)

Over the past couple years, Jacob and Caleb have started to love the game of baseball. Oh, I would break out the big plastic bat and tennis balls we had around and play with them every so often, but I really think it started during our time in Philadelphia when we had our World Series Champion Philadelphia Phillies in 2008. Anyone who knows Philly knows how much the city loves their teams, especially when they're good. They would have "Phillies" day at school, and even the kindergartners knew that the Yankees were the enemy. Since then, our boys, and Jacob in particular (who is set on playing baseball in college, but not the major leagues because they have to play on Sunday), have really started to love baseball. I've especially noticed it over the past year- the boys will come and beg me to come outside and play baseball with them. They love to set up a baseball diamond, usually with rocks or branches to mark the bases, gather up the tennis balls and play a game. (We did just set Jacob up with a great supply of baseball gear for his birthday-more on that later). We'll do batting practice, or play 2 on 1 games together. They could play for hours.

(Even the rain doesn't stop these boys)

At times, I've found myself trying to make excuses, telling the boys to go play while I work on other things. I love to play with them, but there is always so much to be done and just not enough time. But it really hit me the other day- I was once that young girl who had a passion for softball. I would do anything to play and spend as much time as I could. I would beg my family to play with me, and when no one could, I would play alone. Now here I am, a mother with three little boys who also have a love for the game. Sons who would love nothing more than to spend hours playing baseball in the yard with their mom. How can I tell them no? How could I ever have known when I was little, that I would have kids of my own who would have the same love of a game? And how did I ever get so lucky?