Let it go

Cantonment, Florida, Nep Ball Park. My thing my drive my passion my religion is just as important as being in church on Sunday morning. The saving grace of my youth- the one and only reason I wasn’t the skaull smoking ciss and weed on the brick wall. A ball park brat. Raised on stale corndogs and lemon heads. Soda pop on ice- first loves encounter in the visitors dug out! Hated to be dirty, but craved the feel of dirt, red dusty clay, the adrenaline rush of memories of two seasons ago. The cheers of the stadium that help is Atlanta Braves, but in my mind I was up to bat- bases loaded- and it wasn’t just a game but my own world series- MVP! They say those who can’t do, Coach!! My heart breaks like Humpty Dumpty, into pieces. Sweat, tears, black eyes, chipped teeth, the trips around the USA to compete and no one, I mean no one could tell me I wasn’t destined, ordained to be the female Jose Conseco.

Knee surgery, shoulder tear- knowing that I had to stop but it was a high and I was a straight junkie. Replays- man you should have seen the time the bases were loaded and without even trying I sailed over the first basemen’s head- over the fence. Grand Slam. Age creeps in- quitting is not an option- if they have to amputate my right arm so be it. I will never give up softball. It’s in my blood. Its what I do. Reality its what I use to do- yet I can’t let it go- although I smile, tell the team the game plan for that day, undefeated for 7 straight years…. It will never be the same.

-Anonymous