Throwing Balls

Ahem, pardon the title but now that I have your attention…

I’m not athletic. People assume that I am. I look it. I look like a runner, I’ve been told. I look like I would do pretty well in athletic competitions. The hubby says I’m “rangy,” which I’ve assumed to be a good thing. But I’m not athletic. I’m not buff. I’m not muscular. I do, however, have good throwing abilities.

First, a little bit of background information.

When I was a kid in the second grade, we learned how to play softball in school. I had pretty good aim and throwing skills. At some point, I acted as the pitcher… until a ball came flying at me as it was batted directly to my stomach. That was traumatizing. Since then, I haven’t returned to the game as a pitcher. I did play as an “only if we need you” player a number of years ago on a team for work but I would not be the pitcher.

In third grade, a friend of the family invited us to a picnic that his ship was having. (He was in the Navy.) It was a huge event with a ton of people and fun events to keep us occupied. I signed up for the football toss in my age group. We had just learned how to throw a football in P.E. so I wanted to give it a try. Sweet, sweet victory was destined to be mine as I remembered to step off on the correct foot and give the ball a nice hurl. I won first place. It was this lovely blue ribbon. And not just a single ribbon. It had the really cool circular, accordion ribbon at the top. It was freakin’ awesome! Today, I can still throw a football AND I threw a spiral in the stadium earlier this year about 20 yards.

And now to present day, the real reason for this post.

Just yesterday, I was tempted by a dunking booth at the annual street festival. It was calling my name and was a fund-raiser for the Team in Training. For $5 you could get 6 softballs to throw at the target. The hubby whipped out a $5 bill from his pocket and I went at it.

First ball, missed it but not an embarrassing effort. Second one, in the “dirt.” Third one, close but no cigar. I missed the first 3 attempts, and then I thought to take off my backpack. (I just learned that the hubby was thinking he was going to have to relieve me of my duties after my first few pitches. Ha! Whatever.)

The dunkee attempted to heckle me with the most weak of trash-talking by commenting on the removal of the backpack. Then… viola! I hit the mark! Down he went! hee hee. I tried it again, missed, and insisted on using the real softball and not the yellow batting cage softballs that I was handed. The dunkee mentioned that only one person has hit the target twice so far. Hmm? Is that a challenge I hear? I took the ball and hurled it again… and missed. I was bummed and started to walk away with my head hung low and my tail tucked between my legs.

But wait! Were you keeping count of the balls? Apparently I didn’t do a good job of it. That was only 5 balls, as the hubby informed me. I had one more shot. I took the ball and threw it the best I could. And what do you know… I hit the target! And down he went. Woohoo! It was so much fun. I wish I could do it again. 🙂

I am glad I don’t throw like a girl and am not an embarrassment in this capacity like Mariah Carey. This is NOT cute.

Get it together, woman. Stop acting like you have a broken wrist. Quit being a prissy girl! Dang…. Apparently in practice, she did a much better job.


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