Thursday, June 29, 2006

Did you catch that?...

It was six o'clock. I was at Big 5 Sporting Goods... and I was looking at mitts.

It was a unique experience for me. In fact, I realized I had never bought a new mitt before and an eight year-old part of me was bouncing excitedly. (No, not that part.) I had no idea how mitts were sized and I did not want help from the sales person, no matter how cute she was... especially because she was cute! Then, I noticed that dimensions (12", 13 1/2", 14") are printed on each glove. Ah ha!

And that's about when Sean came in. I'd emailed Sean with the idea of playing catch, expecting that same "Who are you and what did you do with Ken?" reaction I'd gotten from Vicky. But he loved the idea, which made me worried that he'd be a lot better than me. (He was.) But he didn't know how to find the size of the mitt. I said, "Look at the dimensions on the glove," like the old pro that I was.

I found a dark brown mitt that looked really... cool.

Fifty dollars later, we walked out with mitts and a softball. (I wanted a baseball... but oh well.)

Sean has this "green belt" at his complex. Green belts are new to me. They are, apparently, patches of grass that are too small to be a park and too large to be a yard. Okay... whatever. Anyway, after we parked, we walked over to the green belt. We walked with intent.

See, I was pretty much sure I'd make an ass of myself. I've never been good at sports. When I played baseball as a kid, I had to be put in the "designated hitter" position, because I could hit like nobody's business but I couldn't catch to save my life. Actually, I wasn't so much "put" in the position as it was "invented" for me. Seriously, my double vision (a result of bad genes, not booze) made it almost impossible for me to catch. (Why, then, could I bat? It's a long story.) (I'll spare you.)

Before we got to the green belt, I threw the ball about two feet into the air and caught it. "There," I said. "Now, you can't say I didn't catch anything." Always the comic.

We moved several yards away. I brought my arm back and thought, "You'd better not look like a girl. Not for the first throw." I knew if I thought about that, I would throw like a girl - so I immediately put my mind on something else... the sales person at the store. (I'm a horrible human being.)

With my mind filled with boobs, I threw it. It felt good. It felt right. It went straight to Sean and hit his mitt with a satisfying SMACK.

Okay! This was good!

He threw it back. I caught it. I threw it. He caught it. Over and over again. We eventually moved much further apart, heaving the ball high up into the air in dramatic arcs until, a half hour later, I was winded and sweaty and... "Hey, let's get a drink!"

We went inside for just a minute, while I talked to Megan. Sean only gave me a minute... then, we were back out again. We threw for another half hour and, in that time, our arms grew weaker and weaker. I made one throw that was so girlish, I knew it even as I threw it! Sean said, "What the hell was that?" "Tired arm," I simply replied.

I was drenched with sweat by the time we were done. Hey, it was about 90 degrees (Fahrenheit to all you folks outside the states). It was hot out there!

But it felt really good and I had a great time. We're going to do it again on Friday.

Then, I'll get Vicky a glove, too, and we can start playing catch. (Once her back is better, of course.)

Oh, by the way, when I got home, I immediately started playing a little World of Warcraft. I haven't gone completely crazy.

1 comment:

Jenn from WA said...

Speaking of tired arm....

That made me think of a volleyball story and misunderstanding of the English language.

We used to play doubles a lot. And it was usually a co-ed couple. My opponent at the time was a good friend of mine, and my partner also a good friend. Curt (the opponent) said to Lars (my partner) as Lars went to server the ball, "Lars has a rubber arm." Lars and I BOTH heard, "Lars has a rubber on." And so from that day forward anytime someone says they have a tired arm (I should explain we'd been playing for hours and were exhausted) I think of "Lars has a rubber on."

There. Now don't you feel better that you've heard my ridiculous story?