Ever since I was a young girl, I have loved sports, especially baseball and hockey.
Did you know that baseball started in 1838 with a wrapped ball of yarn and a chunk of cedar used as a bat? By the time I started playing baseball we had a real ball and wooden bats; the aluminum bat was not created yet.
My family was also into sports, especially my brother and sister, while my parents came to watch us play. My brother, being the only boy in the family, insisted that I become a back catcher because he was one as well.
I remember sitting in a catcher’s position against the side of the house, while my sister pitched balls at us. Many times, that ball was missed and slammed into the side of the house. My mom often said it sounded like a gunshot going off in the house, but she never complained.
We had a sheet of plywood against the wall so as not to damage the siding, although there were times the ball did hit that siding, leaving a mark on the wall that my dad was not happy about.
It was only a matter of time before I joined a fastball team in my teenage years, and you guessed it, I was the catcher. My sister and I played on the same team for five years, and she was the shortstop.
In those days I always wore shorts to play ball, I chewed a big wad of Juicy Fruit gum and never stopped chattering behind the plate in hopes of messing up the batter.
Coming from a small community, we played against friends, neighbours and cousins. I was a serious player, but it was also a lot of fun getting together with the girls once or twice a week.
Because I was known to be an aggressive player, sliding into bases and taking chances, the night before my wedding rehearsal the girls told me to not slide into a base, as there was a good chance I would be cut open.
Did I listen? Of course not.
The game was tied and it was the bottom of the seventh inning. This was our last bat, unless we went into extra innings.
I hit the ball into centre field. I remember it like yesterday. As I rounded second base, my coach, without a second breath, told me to hit the dirt and so I did, feet first.
My coach Bill instantly asked if I was okay, as the girls came running to third base asking the same question while I lay in the dirt.
I asked if I was safe, and Bill said I was. That was the important part, and I felt fine until I stood up and went to clean the dirt off my legs.
My teammates gasped and then I looked down at my hand that was covered in blood. I had scraped the whole top of my thigh. Did I sit out the rest of the game? Heck no.
I had to sit on the edge of the church pew when I got married because the scrape on my thigh was huge.
But it was worth it as we won the game, which was in the playoffs.
After I got married, I started playing slow pitch and this is a whole different kind of ball, but it was one I loved as well.
I have not played in many years but still love to watch the Toronto Blue Jays.
Baseball is such a great sport and can be enjoyed by many ages. There are a lot of great teams in the southeast, so if you are bored on a summer's night, go out and watch a ball game and enjoy the socializing that goes along with it.
