Western Nationals starts today in Salem. We got a 3:00pm draw and my parents are driving down from Seattle to see the game. It’s a massive three-day, double elimination tournament. Winner goes all expenses paid to World’s in Oklahoma.
No pressure. Continue reading
Sometimes the best birthday presents come from the least expected places.
Sunday, the best birthday present came from the opposite field.
My party on Saturday was a smashing success. I had friends in from far and wide – we drank and ate and made merry. My best friend Maggie’s parents showed up late in the night, after attending a Gordon Lightfoot concert. They were in fine form and demanded dancing music while her father sipped a vodka-redbull and her mother downed white wine and told us about her old “tequila days”. Sal bought cakes from the best bakery in Portland and the crowd delivered a well-lubricated version of “Happy Birthday” in the light of thirty blazing candles.
It went well.
I went to sleep, woke up, ate a helluva a hangover breakfast, drank two killer bloody marys, and then remembered I had batting practice that evening.
To be honest, I hate purple. And pink.
Pink more than purple, but that’s beside the point. Nevertheless, purple turned out to be lucky in the tournament this past weekend (my team has a choice of either red or purple uniforms).
Since my camera body is in the shop (it died while I was shooting a wedding last weekend – I’m not kidding), I loaned my paparazzi lens (Canon’s EF IS 70-200mm/f2.8) to Suzanne, who got some shots of me and the other Purple Crusaders in action:
It’s the top of the 7th and we’re tied 3-3 in the championship game. Julie has just driven a scorching line drive up the middle for a lead-off single.
After a demoralizing 0-for-Saturday showing, my bat has finally come ’round and I step into the box with a mission to drive something down. Pop-outs equal instant rally death, and we are in big-time need of a rally.
Filed under softball, sports
Everything is big right now. Life is huge and expanding. Explosive. On fire. Pounding, pulsing, pushng.
My work life is as challenging, energizing, and inspiring as it has ever been. Limitless.
In the face of a week so incredibly professionally taxing, my body has found the point of exhaustion, rejected it, and moved on. I’m napping strategically and completing tasks while en route to meetings.
And then, on a Saturday afternoon, in a town one hour south, there’s softball. Continue reading
Filed under softball, sports
Welcome to the first-ever edition of Gear Friday – my weekly dish on all the gadgets, gizmos, and gear that are currently rocking my world (and should be rocking yours, too).
In 2003, I played just over 100 softball games. I was on 5 league teams and a tournament team that played 1-2 times per month. It was heaven. It was the best softball year in history. It was amazing.
But about halfway into the season, the arch of my left foot started to ache. I went to a podiatrist who told me I had plantar-fascitis. He injected cortisone into the ball of my foot (OUCH!), ordered me some orthotics and then told me I’d likely have to just play through some pain.
I play competitive womens softball tournaments with the most talented team that I have ever been lucky enough to be a part of. Almost all of the women on my team are former All-Americans, some of them several times over. They have won national championships together, traveled across the country together, and spent long, hot summers suffering through broken fingers, torn up legs, and 14-inning-nail-biters.
The team has been together, in some form, for twenty-some-odd years. And throughout those years the same coach has steered them to victory over and over and over again. He’s a short, round man with black-framed glasses, a sharp wit, a little hat that says, “Find a Way”, and a mind that memorizes every softball game he sees down to every inning, every pitch, and every crack of the bat.