Blog Post 1: An Ill Advised Moment

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.**