The Coach Transformed Me From a Klutz to a Jock With Just One Line

SPORTS MEMOIR | SOFTBALL

It was nothing short of magic

In the years after we graduated from university, my friends and I would convene at Danielle’s house every summer for the charity softball tournament held by her father’s company.

It was always a wild weekend of drinking, dancing, and, oh yeah, softball. For me, softball was definitely the optional part.

My relationship with sports is pretty much non-existent. Growing up, I refused to play any little league games, suffered through every gym class, and generally pretended sports didn’t exist whenever possible.

In the few times I’ve been required to participate in a game of any kind, my performance has been unfortunate, to put it kindly. Abstaining from sports my whole life has left me with very little hand-eye coordination. If something can be fumbled, I’m your girl.

Every year at the tournament, I begged to be excused so I could cheerlead from the stands. But each team had to have a minimum number of women, so I was always required to don a glove. To ensure I got the least amount of play possible, I was put in the out-outfield. Practically out of the field outfield.

I didn’t mind because it took the pressure off. Until we had our turn at bat, that is. Once again, I was always last on the list of batters and rarely had to stand on home plate. But when I did, sorry about your luck, team.

To be honest, I wasn’t holding the team back much. Birds of a feather flock together, and none of my friends played any varsity sports (or sports of any kind). While some of us were more coordinated than others, we definitely gave off a Bad News Bears vibe.

All of us, that is, except Pete. Pete joined our gang in the last year of school and was the kind of person who played sports for fun. Baseball, hockey, soccer, you name it. Pete played it and played it well.

Pete tried hard to make up for our team’s considerable deficiencies. He played shortstop but would also run over to second or into the outfield to catch a high flyball. He was so good, he represented at least two players, but alas, even he couldn’t save us.

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