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August 4, 2010 / dcwisdom

My Apologies: Speed Walking to First Base

Last night, our softball team had the *whoop-aff* put on us.   We lost, big time, 22 to 4.  Embarrassing.

Y’all remember how adamant I was about playing softball again, don’t you?  Why didn’t one, two, all of you, tell me to reconsider my mental position?   The mental should have dominated the physical! 

The bulk of our team consists of ages 15 to 25 – fine, young guys and girls who can actually run without having to stretch and warm up the body parts.  The next age representation is a mid-thirties guy who just absolutely tore up his thighs in the first game he played last night.  By the time our team played at 9:15, he was hobbling around like an old grandpa.  Bless his heart.

And then, there’s moi.  By 9:15, I should have had my shower and been sitting in the recliner dozing to Greta Van Sustren.  But, no, instead I was out on the softball field making an aff of myself.

So, I really need to make my apologies.

Apology #1:  I apologize to my bod for putting you through this torture.  You were not prepared for the physical pain and suffering you’ve been through, and it’s all my fault.  I truly thought that you were not in as bad a physical condition as you actually are.  Poor thing.  Shin splints, sore muscles, bruises, and mental failings have given you a summer to remember.  Whoever the young-minded fool was that talked you into this summer of torture needs to run a few bases.  (me)

Last night, the hauntings of high school track shin splints came back.  In pre-game practice, I could feel the beginnings of them.  By game time, my legs felt like wooden peglegs dragging around.  I tried all the warm-ups and stretches, but when I hit the ball and tried to run to first base, I couldn’t.  My team was yelling at me RUN!  RUN!  RUN!   I yelled back to them as I was speed walking down the base line I can’t run!   The guy about my age who had fielded my hit, bless his heart, fumbled the ball a couple of times, and couldn’t decide where to throw it.  We had a guy on third base who played chicken with him while I stumbled to the base.  Finally, the guy threw the ball to first and got me out, but I was credited with an RBI (run batted in) after our runner went home.  So, at least, I assisted in a point for our team.

Apology #2:  I apologize to my left leg and throat.  Yes, my throat.  I played catcher position last night.  This morning, my left shin (aside from the shin splints) is one big, puffy bruise.  Three balls bounced and hit me in the same dad-gum place on my shin.  Another ball bounced up and caught me in the throat.  The umpire came around me and asked, “Are you ok?”  I grabbed my throat and screeched, “I can’t talk; I can’t breathe!”   His eyes got wide.  I took my hand off my throat, laughed, and said, “Just kidding.  I’m good.”   By that time, the team was losing so badly that he just laughed.

Apology #3:  I apologize to my team coach, Zach.  Poor guy.  After the second game when I rode the pine (read:  sat on the bench), I accosted him.  “Zach, I didn’t sign up for this team and get a nice, new jersey to sit on the bench!  I don’t care what Jeremiah told you!  I’m here to play!  I’m a fairly good player for an elderly woman, and I want to play!”  (BIG HA!  Who was I kidding?!)  Someone told me that he was heard to say “I don’t want a team of old women!”  Well, right now, I don’t blame him.

Apology #4:  I apologize to my husband of 35 years.  I’m sorry.  Trying to recapture a little bit of youth is positively tough.  My weekend role as sex kitten will be put on the back burner for a while.  (TMI!  TMI!)

Apology #5:  I apologize to anyone else I probably embarrassed.  I’ve had the time of my life and DID recapture some fun.  I’m thinking of starting a granny’s softball league.

I’m sending my undying love and gratitude to my Calvary teammates who loved me, encouraged me, laughed with me (and at me), and who made God smile with their good sportsmanship, even though we got our booties stomped a few times.    We built some relationships.  It was good.

I hereby tender my resignation from the Calvary softball team.  It was a good ride, but my shin splints, and what little pride I still retain, got the better of me.  Now, Zumba will have to take over my body.  I’m a good one for body torture.

See you in the funny papers.

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7 Comments

  1. Diana Ferguson / Aug 5 2010 8:06 AM

    Yes, chalk it up to another great story and some “special” memories!

  2. mary / Aug 5 2010 4:23 AM

    You are absolutely priceless!! Maybe you could be the coach or whatever they call the guy in charge.

  3. Tara / Aug 4 2010 9:30 PM

    Girl! You should of asked me about playing ball at our age. I would of clued you in. The worst part for me is the “Depends”!!!!
    If you start a Granny Softball team…I AM IN! Rest up girl and settle down! LOL….

    Hugs,
    Tara

  4. tanna / Aug 4 2010 6:19 PM

    Oh, Debbie! This aging stuff is FOR THE BIRDS!!! I am STILL not liking not being able to do all the things I USED to do!!! You get a big, “Attagirl” from me for getting out there in the first place! Hope all your bumps and bruises heal quickly!

  5. Debby Pucci / Aug 4 2010 5:04 PM

    So I take it you won’t be playing next year? Ouch!

  6. toni stringer / Aug 4 2010 2:14 PM

    Now that’s funny I don’t care who ya are. You’re a hoot.

  7. Glenda / Aug 4 2010 8:47 AM

    Shortly, all the pain and embarrassment will fade and you will be left only with fond memories of the summer you played softball in your fifties with all those young kids.
    It will become your “remember when” story and something to brag about to your future grandchildren. I’ll bet your own kids will brag about it for years! Way to go, girl!

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