I'm not the most athletically-inclined and team sports are the worst for me. I always hated in gym class when we would play anything like softball or kickball where the one person who is up to bat is the sole focus of everyone playing. A friend and I used to line up last hoping our team would strike out before it was our turn to bat (actually got yelled at by the teacher for continually lining up last!)
Anyway, along came college and one day I found myself hanging out with old friends and new, and one of the guys suggested we play wiffle ball. Not wanting to be left out I went along.
Like most college campuses ours had a nice open grassy space perfect for playing, and as the warm spring sun began descending in the West we divided into two small teams and faced off.
With the small number of players, and the rapidly disappearing sunshine, game-play was brisk and all too soon we came to the final inning. The teams were tied, my team was at bat. I took my usual place as last in line. All of my teammates batted, each managed to fill a base. It all came down to me.
The sun was nearly down, it was getting really hard to see the ball.
First pitch - Strike!
Second pitch - Strike!
Third pitch - I hear the bat crack against the wiffle ball and watch as the ball arches in slow motion over the heads of the other team. I chuck the bat and head for first, my teammate on third heads for home. We won the game!!
For once in my life I actually helped win a team sport! I was so proud!
One of the guys on the losing team owned the equipment and he insisted I take the wiffle ball as a trophy of our victory. I think I still have it around somewhere.
For the record, I don't think I've played anything resembling baseball since then!
Sounds like a great moment!!
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