Watching the Dandelions Grow

Several weeks ago, a friend was trying to put together a social sports team. Wiffleball, to be exact. Now I played wiffleball for two seasons when I first moved to Austin 2.5 years ago. Probably because I wanted to get to know my coworkers better and maybe meet a few people from other teams. Those seasons proved 3 things.

1. I hate baseball and everything related to it. Yes this is a tense subject in my house as Mr. H loves baseball and I rejoice when the World Series is FINALLY over. (I mean really, what sport plays an 162 game season anyway?)

2. I hate playing team sports. As a child, I played tennis, swam, danced, and cheered. If there is a ball larger than my palm, I don't want to be involved. (umm... that's what she said?) I even took Individual and Dual Sports for my P.E. credit in high school.

3. Wiffleball is not played with a big red bat, but rather a skinny yellow bat that might weigh a half pound soaking wet.

So then, why did I tell Mr. H that said friend was organizing another wiffleball team? Perhaps love. Perhaps a weak moment in thinking that drinking in a garage that has been converted to a basketball court, er wiffleball field, might not be so bad even if your beverage cannot be in an open cup, koozie, covered waterball or anything that resembles an alcoholic beverage drink container. So we compromised. He signs up to play, I sign up to drink, warm the bench, and be team cheerleader.

Fast forward to last night. The season opener. The season opener double header that friend and hubs conveniently forgot to tell me about. The season opener double header where only two women were present when the game began and you need three to play...and team cheerleader is asked to sub... and wear another teammate's T-shirt... that is a Youth Large...and Emily didn't wear a sports bra or tennis shoes because she didn't think she'd have to play... and Emily has ginormous boobs...and I'll only play right field because nothing ever happens there.

But ya know what? It was fun. I made an amazing catch (with a look of fear in my eyes) to get the third out of the first inning. I didn't realize I had made this incredible feat, so I threw to second to make a play, but whatevs. I did it. I got on base twice. Made it to third once. Scored no runs, but I actually hit the freaking ball with the itty bitty lightweight yellow bat. Go me.

I'll leave you with some Peter, Paul and Mary lyrics to my new Thursday night anthem:

Off in the distance, the game's dragging on,

There's strikes on the batter, some runners are on.

I don't know the inning, I've forgotten the score.

The whole team is yelling and I don't know what for.

Then suddenly everyone's looking at me

My mind has been wandering; what could it be?

They point at the sky and I look up above

And a baseball falls into my glove!

Here in right field, it's important you know.

You gotta know how to catch, you gotta know how to throw,

That's why I'm here in right field, just watching the dandelions grow!