Fences Aren’t That
Flexible
Eight
15 year old softball girls, one minivan and two of four games played on a
steamy summer July day somewhere in cornfield country of Indiana equals one
horrendously smelling car. Fortunately, some of the girls keep emergency deodorant
in the body bags we use to hold all our equipment. However the odor of dirt,
sweat and sunflower seeds suffocated every single person in that car.
“Finally,
we’re here. Get out before my car permanently smells like softball.” My mom
popped open the trunk and doors of the minivan and all of the girls let out a
sigh of relief and inhaled the fresh air. I climbed out of trunk and started
handing down bags that were bungee-corded to the roof of the filthy car.
The
time for horsing around was gone when the minivan opened up. We only needed to
win one more game to make it to the championships the next morning and we
desperately did not want to wake up before sunrise the next morning. The eye
black was smeared on and the game music played in our individual ear buds. The
complex we were headed to was overstuffed with softball folk. Parents, coaches,
and teams from around the region were here for this final tournament of the
season. Unfortunately for us, that means that for warm up space it looked like
we needed to get creative.
I
had already put all 15 pounds of catching equipment on to warm up the pitchers
for the game when someone had spotted a small spot of grass. The problem? There
was a four foot fence standing between us and it.
“Alright
guys, we’ve only got about 35 minutes left to warm up so hop right to it. No
messing around and don’t waste any time.” Coach Ken gave us our orders and then
jogged off to find the other team’s lineup. All ten of us looked at each other.
“You
heard him Susan, hop to it catch!” Emily egged me on with her usual enthusiasm.
“Yeah
team captain, I ain’t climbing no fence until you go first. Full gear. Unless
you’re feeling wimpy today, Twelve.” Kirsten spit the ranch flavored sunflower
seeds from her mouth onto Sarah’s shoes. Sarah gave Kirsten her signature smack
to the back of the head.
Not
wanting to degrade my lucky number, I straightened my gear and eyed the fence.
Approximately four feet high, dents and holes from the repetition of softballs
being thrown and hit at it, and rust along the top of the thin chain link
metal. Piece of cake.
I
grabbed the handles of the edge of my worn and torn bag that is roughly the
size of two nine year old children and about just as heavy. I heaved the bag
over the fence and heard it land with a thud and saw the puff of dirt rise
around the bag on the other side.
I clapped my hands and gripped the fence and
tested my footing. The fence seemed sturdy enough to hold my weight and,
hopefully, the weight of the sleek black gear I wore as well. I launched my
upper body over the obstacle, but my lower body seemed to lag behind. My torso
flipped over to the warm up side of the fence and one of my feet stayed locked
into one of my foot holdings on the other side. The combination of metal spikes
and catcher’s gear made it so I couldn’t get out of the deathtrap.
An eruption of
laughter came from my teammates and for a few helpless moments I laid there
hung over the fence giving them the dirtiest look I can muster. After she could
finally breathe again, Emily took her bat and gave my foot a good smack with
the aluminum from the other side and I plopped on the ground face first. At
least this time my lower extremities followed.
And with my head,
shoulders, knees and toes over the fence the rest of my still chuckling team scaled
the fence. No other partial jumpers appeared on the other side. We went on to
do our routine warm-up after I slapped the dirt off my chest pad.
That day we went
on to win both of the rest of our games and because of a bracket mix up ended
up playing a fifth game with a start time of 11:45PM. That game was won too
with the help of Emily the Encourager’s and my back to back over the fence home runs. I guess it just goes to show you that in life, sometimes when you
jump the fences and land on your face, you can still win the big ones.
**Okay, so I thought that my writing overall wasn't a total catastrophe. I think I may have hyper-focused on some areas (specifically in plot) which caused me to fall short in other categories such as imagery. Seeing as how this is only supposed to be about 500 words I think that I might have been over descriptive of events rather than the place that they happen in. But as my first attempt for writing for this class I see my first piece as a success.**
