"FOUL"

Before I begin, could someone please tell me why, when a child hits a foul ball at a little league game everyone yells, "Heads-up" ? Should you yell something like, "Heads down!! or Cover you heads, foul ball!!"


Anyway, now that I got that out of the way. Foul could take you in so many directions, just like all other topics. But, I think that I will stick with my favorite one..... Sports. It makes me think of my years of softball.

Prior to sixth grade, we lived inside the city limits of Baltimore. Other than the school I was required to go to, my mother pretty much kept me at home, which wasn't really the best place for me to be either, but she did the best she could with what she had. I was not involved in sports or any other activity that would require me to be around the "drug-infested" rec centers.

I am not sure exactly how old I was, I just know we moved the summer before I went into 6th grade (around 9 or 10). We moved to Anne Arundel county. Which is a county just outside of Baltimore. What culture shock it was to move to the county. I was popular and well known in my elementary school, I gone to the same one since kindergarden. All of a sudden I was with rich kids who wore designer clothes and did the "Jordache" dance outside at lunch time. To me, jeans were jeans, whatever was being sold at the local Good Will or yard sale was what I wore. I remember when I finally got a pair of Nike shoes, they were the wrong ones. I think they called them "Fish-Heads". Anyway, back to the story of how I got involved in Little League.





My dad was blind, but who I spent most of my time with because my mother had to "Make End Meet". And even though, my dad was blind, he would listen to sports on TV. So, I often found myself sitting at his side watching the Baltimore Orioles or the Colts, until they moved to Indiannapolis. I had found out the the little girl around the corner, who was a mean red-head, played softball. I told my mom that I was tired of being an athletic supporter and wanted to be an athlete. She talked to the "Mean Red-Head"'s mother. Since my mom was busy working and going to school, if I were to get involved in sports, she would need to find someone to take me when she couldn't. So, I began sharing rides with the mean girl and her mother. And OH MY GOD did I SUCK. I had never played organized sports in my life. I didn't understand why, even though I was right handed, I had to wear my glove on the left hand. This made no sense to me. I didn't understand that I couldn't hold my bat with crossed arms and still hit the ball. Since they weren't allowed to make us sit out for more than 3 innings a game, I got to play half the game. The games were only 6 innings total. I was last in the line up and played out field or left out. My first team was called the Harundale Humdingers, and my first coach was Ms. Joann. My favorite part of my first year was the pool party at the end of the year. You would think after suffering the hummilation of the kids who had played ball since they were 5 years old, laughing at me every time I went up to bat, I wouldn't play the following year. But, since I love self distruction, I apted to endure this one more year, just to see if things got better.

As I told you earlier in my blog, my dad was blind, so for obvious reasons, practicing with him was not an option and my mom was very busy. So other than throwing myself "High-poppers'' in the back yard, I had no one to practice with. But, during my second year, I had a turning point. This turning point was when I was standing in the outfield, bored as usually, someone actually managed to hit it out there. Suddenly my heart started pounding. I saw the look of fear in my team mates faces. "For sure" they thought, " This was a home run." I back up, I really had trouble judging where the ball was going to go, but this time was different, I was going to catch it. And I did. I didn't realize how important this out was until, I found out that I had earned, "The Game Ball" that day. It turns out, we were a head by one run. It was the bottom of the last inning and the opposing team had two people on base. Had I not caught that ball, it would have rolled forever. My team would have definitely lost.

It is hard to believe the smallest things can make such a difference. I played ball for another eight years. I moved from the outfield to first base and even made the all-star team my last two years. But, it all started with my first catch, in the outfield that surprised everyone including me.