Here is the thing about
Baseball: Like many children of
the South, it was my first love.
As the only daughter of six children, I never understood that only boys
could make a living as a third baseman. Then I grew up and couldn’t play
baseball any more because I was too old for little league. I had to play softball, because that is
what girls did. Once again I was
reminded of my gender. What?!
(Worst line to a girl who wants to
play: “Oh, you wanna be third
base? Okay, why don’t you go BE
third base?” This was usually
uttered by some idiot who found himself thrown out at first, by the Girl at
third. Her brothers laugh
wickedly, knowing better. Take
that, dickhead!).
It kinda wasn’t the same thing,
even though it was. So I chose to
be a rebel swimmer that could earn a scholarship to UNC. I wore leather and black and eye liner
to the pool, swam a clean race and got back into my angry clothes. Looking at Brian Wilson, I completely
get it.
I missed the green grass and the
smell of leather gloves and the heft of a good bat. I can still whip my arm sideways to nail the douche at
first, but the throw doesn’t have as much speed or power. I didn’t know about the All American
Girls Baseball League, even though my aunt played for the Georgia Peaches. I didn’t know until the great state of North
Carolina told me I couldn’t play any more because I was too old. Aunt Ruth took me to the crab shack for
Hush Puppies and told me stories of playing catcher for the Peaches. Seems like the girls not
playing thing has been around a while.
She and I shared that great deep sorrow until her passing last
October. I hope she is somewhere
catching serious strikes.
So forgive me if I chose to watch
the Giants take out the Cards instead of Mitt Romney drone on about women in
binders. Either way I figured
someone was gonna drop a ball, and I had seen Mitt do it twice already. I am not someone who whoots and
hollers about sports. But I do
love me some ball. It broke my
heart a long time ago, and it comforts me that all about this country that is
good, is not lost.
