So I'm thinking the other night ( yes sometimes I really do) and the darnedest things cross my mind.Seen here is my youngest sister Jen who passed in June 0f 07 ( I still cannot believe it's been two years ). So anyways, while I think of her often I found myself the other night laying in bed staring at the ceiling, waiting for my delivery from the Sandman when I started recalling something to do with Jen that really irked me.
When Jen was younger, she was on an all-girl softball team. She was decent in the field, she played shortstop I think, and could really swing the bat. As one of my friends can attest to. He pissed her off one day at our house. He was probably 13 and tall for his age. She was, I'm guessing 9 and a runt. She told him to stop and he continued. We all knew this would lead to trouble as Jen was born with an extra helping of 'fiesty'. She promptly returned with an aluminum baseball bat and chased him down the hill and around the corner where she eventually got a shot in at his ankle.
Any ways, my point is, she could handle a bat. Now what made me mad was this. Her coach, who ironically was a woman who walked with two crutches, had a military (men's) hairdo, coke-bottle glasses, and was born with an extra-helping of nasty; would never let Jen take her cuts.
She would say "go in there, scrunch way down so they can't pitch to you, and take your base."
ARRRRGGHHHH! You could see the frustration on Jen's face as she 'took her base'. Jen knew it was a cheesy move and wanted to let rip with the ol' Louisville Slugger. The one time she disobeyed and had at it, she tagged a nice shot down past the third base man for a single.
Is that weird that that would bother me 25 years later? Or am I just weird?? Be honest....I can take it.
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4 comments:
It is not odd. Your sister was a lovely young lady. Putting on my internet therapist/buttinski cap, it seems that the lack of a real "at-bat" is a metaphor your memory is using for her life, one that came to end before she got a chance to "take her cuts" in the game of life.
I can't begin to imagine what your grief has been like, but I think it is telling that you still love your sister and think of her with kindess.
(btw - Muddy Waters is awesome)
You are weird, no question. But not for this.
Too many times the coaches of children's teams don't have a clue what they are doing. No doubt this woman was trying to live vicariously through the kids.
You're not "weird" for being bothered 25 years later. I'm still bothered that when I was in 5th grade, my stupid gym teacher wouldn't let me pitch, just because I tried to emulate the pro pitchers, with raised leg and twirling arm. And that was more than 25 years ago!
Please accept my sympathy for the loss of your sweet little sister.
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