Brew Crew Kickball Game 2: 6 - 3 VICTORY!
A recap... (Disclaimer, for those of you who actually saw it live, I know this post will not do it justice. I hope you will still enjoy re-living my moment of glory.)
Since our last game, I have been running with some frequency; so I went into last night with a little extra confidence about my ability to make it to first base this time. I should have known this would not be the case when, after my first round "up to bat," I sprinted not just to first base, but on to second base too. You can imagine my humility when my fist pumps and cheers were then interrupted by the referee and my teammates sending me back to homeplate. As it turned out, my "double" was really "strike one" and all my running was in vain. That strike quickly turned into an out and back to the dug-out I went.
Now, by the time the line-up had cycled and I was up again, I had resolved to redeem myself. Things were looking good until our trusty (and always encouraging) Coach Bono said to me: "Elizabeth, you run half way and then just GIVE UP." Now it was on.
So... here's the scene as best I can describe it.
The kickball rolls toward me.
I stand still.
I allow the ball to just barely bounce off of my foot (as I had been instructed to do) for a VERY non-eventful bunt.
I RUN. I RUN as hard as I can. I RUN until the front of my body begins to slope awkwardly over my legs.
The first-basemen catches the ball and tags the base.
My feet are moving faster than the rest of me.
I realize I cannot stop.
I face dive OVER first base.
I land flat on my stomach and BOUNCE several times, before rolling to a stop.
I am covered in dirt.
I am mortified.
I am out.
Today, despite being awarded MVP of the game for my dedication to the sport and willingness to literally DIE for the cause, I announce my retirement from kickball. Let's face it - it is just not meant to be. I have the bruises and bumps to proove it.