#454 Play In A Tournament

So, just like the golf tournament I wrote about previously, my place of employment was also having a softball tournament. Of course I signed up. I signed up to cheer for the team. LOL! However, so many people from my facility signed up to play softball that there were enough peeps to have several teams. The catch was, we all had to play.  My anxiety started hovering around Level 2. I never played softball before in my life.

Wiffle ball, yes. Kick ball, yes. Softball, no.

I can look the part.....but that is about it. 

My sister was the all star softball player growing up. My brother was the all star baseball player growing up. My dad was a little league coach. Me, I won the first grade spelling bee. I was the nerd in the family.

Alicia and Billy got cleats. I got awards for essays.
Alicia and Billy got gloves. I got invited to take the SATs when I was 12.
Alicia's and Billy's teams went to baseball and softball playoffs. I kept the score logs for the junior high girls' basketball team.
Alicia and Billy played in district softball and baseball tournaments. I cheered for the junior high wrestlers in tournaments.
Alicia and Billy saw their name in the newspaper for athletic achievements. I placed 2nd and 3rd in the state for articles/stories I wrote for my award winning junior high newspaper.
Alicia and Billy got trophies. I got the Presidential Academic Achievement Award.

Junior High Days

I could dance. I could cheer. I could twirl a flag. I could run. That takes some athleticism. Actually, that takes a lot of athleticism. I just never played an actual "sport". As a kid, sometimes the boys in the hood would let me play wiffle ball in the street with them. I wasn't great at it but it was fun.

Maybe some of that would come back to me. I mean, I couldn't be any worse at softball than I was at golf. Could I? (Thankfully no.) I still sucked at softball, not gonna lie. I just didn't suck on the epic level that I did with golf.

I did put in a request to be on the non competitive team, if there was one, because I didn't want to hold anyone back. I also didn't want my teammates to be mad at me because I was not very good.

Turns out, most of my peeps at USCS are damned good at softball so there was no "non competitive" team. But, the team I was placed on was absolutely awesome. They were all cool, supportive, and way fun. My anxiety was gone as soon as we started our first game of the tourney. But, I will get back to that shortly. Let's talk some more about my brother and sister.

I told my sister I signed up to play softball because the golf tournament was a lot of fun and even more peeps were going to the softball tourney. I also confided in her that I was a little nervous and scared. She was very excited for me. She gave me tips and pointers. She dug out her gloves and insisted I wear her cleats because it was safer for me. She told me to have fun and not be scared. My sister was awesome, supportive and wonderful.

My brother on the other hand, well, it went down like this.

My brother explaining softball to me.

Me: Visiting my parents and mentioning to them that I was playing softball next week.
My Brother (overhearing the conversation): " Please tell me you didn't join the work softball team. Please god tell me you didn't do that."
Me: "It's just a tournament. Kind of like the golf outing. It's not like we are playing a regular schedule."
My Brother: "Why Chrissy? Why do you keep hurting these people like this? I feel bad for them."
Bill Sr. laughing.
Me: "I don't think I will be as bad at softball as I was at golf."
My Brother: "I think you will be."
Me: "No BILL. I won't be as bad."
My Brother smirking: "Yea, okay."
Me: "Zip it!"
My Brother: "Chrissy, can you even swing a real baseball bat?"
Me: "I don't know. We can find out. Get me one and I'll swing it at you!"
My Brother: "I would knock you out before you even had a chance to swing that bat."
Me: "Whatever Bill."

Billy then spent the next 30 minutes telling my dad and I stories about how much fun he had on his softball teams. I wanted to have that fun too! I told him so.
My Brother: "Yea, okay. It is fun. You will have fun. Just don't get cracked in the face by a line drive or anything."
Me (wincing because knowing my luck, that will happen.) " I'll duck or fall to the ground or something." 

A few minutes later my brother returns with one of his gloves. I didn't even ask him for one. He was being nice to me. Wow! He told me to use that glove to play. He also told me to catch the ball with the glove and not with my head. His finals words to me......

My Brother: "If you ruin or lose my glove, I will find you. I will hunt you down and you will pay."

My brother explaining the rules of his glove.

Talks of hunting partings and pending death soon subsided as Saturday, September 17th fast approached. The tournament was slated to start at 10 am. Schultzie and I headed down to Allentown to meet up with our other work peeps. I bought two cans of Vanilla Bean Monster drinks hoping they would keep me energized. I never had them before. I was hoping they would work. I drank one on the way down. My right eye started twitching and I had the steering wheel in a death grip to prevent me from waving my hands in the air like I just don't care. Yep, they work.

I also brought the vodka mini bar with me but I was by no means planning on getting blasted like I did at golf.

Number #1: I drove this time.
Number #2: The vodka was mostly for pain management.

I remembered to bring ibuprofen as well. I have never played in a tournament like this before so I had no clue how long we would be here or how many games we would play. I was afraid I would get excruciating pains like I did with golf. I was terrified actually. I still cringe thinking of the pain in my lower arms and wrists the day after golfing.

We arrived to the park. Ed greeted Cindy and me. He suggested I move my car all the way down the road by his car since I parked right next to two of the softball fields. Good thinking! I do have a warranty on my car as well as full coverage but why even put myself through the possible hassle of a smashed windshield or window right due to a fly ball? I totally moved my car. Then Cindy and I walked the five miles back to the field and set up our chairs.

I noticed a few of my peeps were tossing softballs around, practicing. I figured now was as good a time as any to showcase my shitty ball throwing skills to my potential teammates. I picked up a ball.  It was smaller, like a regular baseball. I thought were were playing with big softballs. Guess not. I started playing catch with Joe, Jeannine, Mare, Artie and Cindy.

I definitely could not throw very far but surprisingly, I also wasn't horrible. My aim was pretty good too. I was able to catch a lot of the balls thrown at me so that was an added bonus. I was already doing way better than golf and the games didn't even start yet. My anxiety was slowly decreasing.

Larry arrived with all the gear and apparel. We were given really nice burgundy and white baseball shirts to wear. They said "Hazleton" because, that is where we are from. Hazy in the house yo! Better watch yourself! I got to pick the color of the hats for my team. I picked white hats so we could all be white hats for the day. (It's a work thing.)

As more people arrived and game time approached, I decided to have one of the mini bottles of vodka. I gave one to my gorgeous girl Alicia, whom I was incredibly happy to see. I missed her face at work. It was so awesome to spend time with her. I also gave a bottle to another beauty, my co-worker Steph.

It was now tee time. Just kidding. It was time for the first pitches of the tournament. We were split up into our respective teams. Our facility had three teams playing in the tourney. My team was going to play on the field at the far end of the complex. We were playing against the Quakertown facility.

We packed up our drinks and made our way to the field. It was kind of warm already. Not 90+ degree, threshold of hell warm like the golf outing but it felt like it was going to be in the high 70's, low 80's. I was eyeballing the free beverage table to make sure there was enough beverages to quench my constant thirst. There was thank goodness.

I need my beverages!

As we arrived at the field, I told my fellow teammates that if there were too many people and not enough positions, I would be okay sitting out since I was not that good. My teammate Kelvin said no way. I was a member of this team and they wanted me to play.

I was going to be the catcher. I felt so happy. I was so honored. I was going to be Gary Carter for my team. I was gonna make them so proud in three...two....one....
Wait for it.....
Wait for it.....
Now!
Anxiety level 70000. Oh my god! I was going to be Gary Carter for my team? There had to be a mistake.

Gary Carter is a legend. Gary Carter was really, really, realllllly good at baseball. I can't be Gary Carter. I'm nowhere even remotely on the level with Gary Carter. Gary Carter had extensive baseball knowledge, athleticism and talent. I personally saw his plaque hanging in the Baseball HOF. It was on the wall. I took a freakin picture of it! I gazed at that plaque in awe and amazement. I mean it was Gary Carter, all star catcher for the 1986 World Champion Mets!

I didn't even know what a softball was supposed to look like. I was walking around earlier in the morning with my brother's baseball glove on the wrong hand for Christ's sake. I was a speck of dust on Gary Carter's cleats. As a matter of fact, I should not even be using my name and Gary Carter's name in the same sentence. It was sacrilegious. WTF is wrong with me?

Ed's typical reaction to me.

Panicked, I run over to Cindy and Ed. I announce that I am going to be the catcher and I have no clue how to be a catcher. I did not even have a catcher's glove. This was bad. This was epic failure. We were so much going to lose because of me!

Laughing, they both reassured me that catching in a softball tourney is not the same as catching in a major league baseball game. But Gary Carter had to catch all those foul balls and he got knocked over a lot guarding home plate. What if someone has to throw a ball to home plate?


Ed laughed and said to stay out of the way of the pitcher. I looked at him like he had two heads. I do that a lot. I ask him why? He said the pitcher will run to home plate and catch the ball. Okay but what if the pitcher catches the batter's ball but there is a runner at third base coming to home plate and the pitcher has to throw the ball to me?

Ed's reply was that I should try to catch the ball. I think the color left my face because he stated that there were enough basemen around to help me catch balls at home plate. If I see them coming, stay out of their way and let them do their thing. He was right. I needed to calm down. I always do this stuff to myself. If the pitcher throws the ball and I miss it, the Earth will still rotate around the sun and we will all live to see another day.

Chill the F@CK out Chrissy!

Freakin' awesome. Still get the chills!

What a great pitcher catcher combo back in the day.

Sighs. I liked the bad boys at an early age I guess. 
Dykstra, Dr, K and Strawberry.

We took our positions. I crouched down behind home plate like Gary Carter used to when he played for the World Champion New York Mets. We won't get into his Montreal Expos stint. I'm definitely going to achieve a personal best for squats today I thought. I was kind of excited for that.

As for the rules of home plate, if the ball touches home plate at all it is an automatic strike. Each batter also starts with one strike already against them. I guess it helps move the tournament along faster.

Our opponents strike out pretty fast. Yep. The rules definitely helped move things along pretty fast. It was our turn to bat but the other team did not have enough gloves. Someone on my team picked up my brother's glove and was going to hand it to one of our opponents. I had a mini heart attack.

You see, my brother was really, really being nice to me because he gave me his best, most favorite glove to use. That is why he threatened to end my life if it got lost or ruined. His name was not on the glove and I did not study the glove enough to recognize it. I could not lose this glove. I did not want to die.

I retrieve the glove and place it by my purse. I turned my head for a moment and someone else picked up my brother's glove and handed it to someone. Oh my god! Please don't do this to me people! I really want to share but the consequences could be fatal for me. I have two kids in college that need their mother.

What my brother will do if I lose his glove.

I walked over to the guy who had been handed my brother's glove. He had really long, perfect dreads. I called him Troy Polamalu. Troy did not wear his hair in dreads, I know this, but this guy was very soft spoken like Troy, and had long black hair like Troy. He was also wearing black and yellow socks. The guy took the nickname as a compliment.

I explained the whole brother situation to him. I told him that he was the only one allowed to use the glove and that he must give it right back to me after each inning because I wanted to live. He laughed and said it was a deal. He promised to take good care of the glove. And he did!

I sat on the bleachers watching my teammates at bat. Holy shit they were good. Kelvin, Rafael, Alex, Clay, Robert, Alex #2, and even Ed, were all knocking them way into the outfield. These guys were good. These guys were real good. The boys definitely came to play today.

Ed asking me why I was swinging at every ball.

When it came my turn to bat, I did not knock any balls into the outfield like my team mates did. But, I thrashed the hell out of the air not once but twice. For a moment there I thought I experienced zero gravity. Not really, I just struck out. It's okay. I was just warming up.

The second inning went pretty fast too. I also tried to catch my first foul ball. Actually Ed saw the ball fly in the air. I thought it went into the outfield. (The sun was in my eyes.)

All I heard was Ed yell, "FESSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!! Get the ball!!!!!"

I start looking up into the sky, shoulders hunched up around my neck for fear of getting knocked in the head by the foul ball and proving my brother right.

As I was twirling around looking into the blinding sun above me for this damn ball, the umpire taps me on the shoulder. I spin around too quickly, almost tripping myself up and falling on my ass. I'm still all hunched up, paranoid that the ball is going to fall out of the sky and crack me in the head.

The umpire smiles and hands me the ball. I give him a confused look. How did he get the ball I wondered? Turns out it fell to the ground behind me like five minutes ago. I smiled and thanked him for doing my job for me. He got a good laugh out of it. So did I. Making an ass out of myself isn't just a natural talent for me, it's a bona fide gift. I embraced and accepted it a long time ago.

By the fourth inning of the game, it has become a slaughter. We are killing the other team. The score was like 12-3. I finally hit my first ball. It was a line drive but there wasn't much speed on it. I was actually shocked I hit it to be honest. It took me a moment to get my feet moving but when they started, I flew to first base. I was tagged out unfortunately. As we walked back to get our gloves to take the field again, a few of my teammates came over and commended me on my hustle. I was pretty fast for a little one.

I don't mean to brag but I did finish second in the 50 yard dash and third in the 100 yard dash in the fifth and sixth grade on track and field day. I got cute little red and white ribbons. In my sophomore year, my gym teacher recommended I join the track team but I worked full time. Plus, the girls on the high school track team were amazing. They were always making it to districts. I was fast but they were bionic. And forget long distance running. I had zero endurance. LOL.

In the fifth inning I realized that I was the only catcher that was crouching. The opponents' catcher was just standing behind the plate. I looked down to the other field. That catcher was also standing behind the plate. Perhaps I was taking this catcher thing too serious? I don't know. I decided to just own it for the rest of this game. Next game I wouldn't crouch as much. Maybe I would though. I was getting some serious leg work in. Hell, I was getting a total body workout. As I was pondering those thoughts, I got hit in the face with the ball.

Yep!

Seriously?? Did that just happen for real? No one else seemed to notice because I was able to get my hand up to the ball before it smacked my face too hard. I think Ed saw it but that was it. It still hurt way worse than the crotch ball I took in the second inning. People did notice that hit. I blushed and laughed that one off.

Anyway, I could feel my lip starting to throb and sting. I could hear my brother laughing in my head. My nose wasn't bleeding thank god but it hurt. This was all Billy's fault. He jinxed me. I shook it off but I also felt a very deep resentment towards my brother. Jerk!

On to the sixth. It was in the sixth inning that I had my one big play of the day. By now I was warmed up. I was laughing, screaming and having fun. We all were. Our opponents were awesome and hilarious. Ed was hanging from the fence managing the team like Davey Johnson. Schultzie and I both told him managing was in his blood. He couldn't help it. I still wasn't so hot at catching the ball but I was great at scrambling to pick them up off the ground.

The last batter of the game was at the plate. He smacked a foul ball into the air. I was able to keep my eye on it. My gloved hand was stretched as far as it could reach. As the ball was falling from the sky, I realized it was going to land right on my head.

"Don't stand directly under it dork!" I scolded myself. I backed up slightly. I have got to catch at least one foul ball today or I totally failed as a catcher I tell myself. Why I decided to reach up and catch the ball with my bare hand was beyond me but it did it. I regretted it immediately. It freakin' hurt!

I caught a ball!!

I heard Ed screaming in the background that I just caught that ball with my bare hand. I had a death grip on the ball, mostly because my hand really hurt. The shock was still reverberating down my fingers and into my arm. I did not want to drop the ball either. My teammates congratulated me as I stood frozen in shock behind home plate, the ball still in a death grip. I was completely dumbfounded because I actually caught a ball. It was great! I could not wait to tell my other peeps what happened. See, I'm not so bad at this.

Just kidding. Yes I am.

We walked back down to the main field. There wasn't much down time though. We were slated to play one of our own teams next on the main field. Mare pitched for this Hazleton team. She was too cute standing up on the mound too. I was cheering for her but since we were supposed to be bitter rivals I informed her that I could not cheer for her too much. We both laughed. I still cheered for her though. How could I not cheer for my girl. She did awesome but our team ended up winning that game too.

This game went on a little longer because both teams were good. There were a lot of runs scored on both sides. I was starting to feel some fatigue. Thankfully, we were able to sit for a few minutes after this game while the other two games finished. The third Hazleton team made their way back to the main field. They had won too. We were playing them next.

Wow! We are playing a lot of games. I had a feeling we were going to lose this one. I asked Cindy if she was good staying to watch all the games, even if we were eliminated. She said absolutely. She wanted to stay and watch too. At this time, I had no clue it was a double elimination tournament. I thought it was one and done.

Awesome players and team mates.

Our third game was slated to play on the field where we played our first game. We all walked back down. I brought two cans of diet coke with me. I'm glad I did because a stupid yellow jacket flew into my first open can. He wasn't coming back out either. I covered the can with a tissue and tossed it in the trash. I made sure to cover my second opened can with something so none of the flying bastards could ruin another refreshment on me. It was midday and the sun was hot. I needed my beverages.

Cindy had twisted her knee a little in the previous game so I agreed to be a pinch runner for her. She was good to play and bat, but didn't want to make her knee worse with running. I was excited for the opportunity. I couldn't hit a ball to save my life but Cindy could. I had a good shot of making it to a base with her batting. Teamwork people! It's a beautiful thing. I actually got to run a few times in this game. I only made it safe to first once but once is better than never right?

Hazleton representing.

As expected, our team got our asses handed to us. This Hazleton team was just too good. I'm not gonna lie, I was actually a little relieved we lost. I was losing steam fast. Cindy and I walked back to our chairs. They were cooking hamburgers and hot dogs on a grill. I wasn't hungry yet though. I just wanted to sit. A couple of peeps sat with us. A couple of peeps went across the street to watch the game taking place on the third field.

I walked over for a few minutes to see what teams were playing over there. I raised my eyebrows in surprise. Mare's team was playing. Hmmmmm. It dawned on me this was a double elimination tourney. I was not done playing softball. I was okay with that. I was getting one hell of a workout. I figured if I played in one softball tournament a week, not only would I be a skinny bitch but I would also be able to eat and drink anything I wanted. I began wondering if there were any softball leagues in my town for shitty players. Probably not huh?

Now this I excel at! Napping!

Unfortunately, we sat in those chairs for almost two hours until we played again. It was beautiful and breezy. We were all chatting and having some laughs. But, my muscles had tensed up. I was starting to feel sore.

Earlier in the day I was getting exhausted, but my body was so warmed up from being active that there really wasn't any soreness. There was now though. I did not want to move at all. Mare's team had to be spent. They played like 5 or 6 games in a row. I got even more exhausted thinking about that.

I had hoped it would be Mare's team that would we would be playing but unfortunately it was not. I watched what happened in Mare's final game and my team was about to face it next. I can't really get into it too much but let's just say we were not thrilled to be playing this team. I took my place behind home plate. Didn't realize we were allowed to play with Sammy Sosa specials in this game. I mean, it was just a softball tournament right?

There was a lot of crying going on. LMAO!

It's not like the MLB Commissioner's trophy was being awarded to the tournament winner. Sure there was some facility pride on the line but this was supposed to be a fun outing. And up until that very game, I had fun in every single game I played against each and every team I played. We laughed. We threw some playful smack talk around. We cheered when someone did something awesome at bat or on the field regardless of what team they were on.

This team on the field before us was not only a complete buzzkill but they were making everyone's blood boil. The cheating, name calling and rule changes were unbelievable. I was so happy when the game was finally over. I could care less that our team lost. There were a few decent guys on the team that came over to shake hands but the rest of them were calling us names and yelling and screaming.

Our undefeated Hazleton team had to play these guys next. This is where I am going to stop talking about the games. Let's just say, it turned into a total shitshow.

My sister's cleats!

As for the next day, I was stiff, sore and walking funny, but it was nothing I couldn't handle. There were no excruciating pains like I had with golf. It was funny because Monday at work, we were all still walking all stiff and funny. Tuesday at work, we were all still walking stiff and funny. I was not alone in my soreness. It took me almost a week to recover but like I said, it wasn't even a bad pain. It was like a really good workout kind of discomfort.

In closing, I really enjoyed playing softball. I wore my sister's cleats and used my brother's glove. I got to experience part of what their childhood was like. I did it at the age of 43 but it was still awesome and special to me nonetheless.

And despite the shit show that became the second half of the tournament, I would still play in it again. What I am really hoping is that we have a Hazleton only softball tournament. I think even more people would come because it would be local. But, I would still go to the one in Allentown again. I know what to expect now. We all did. I won't let anyone ruin my fun. And boy did I have fun!


"Crying? There is no crying in baseball.....or softball!"

 Chrissy