We had the season opener today, and it felt so good to get back on the field. I made a mental note to fit in a few practices this week though. I was extremely rusty, which is a problem since I'm generally one of the worst players on the team. But for some reason today, I was on fire.
I caught my first flyball. I almost even meant to! To be perfectly honest, it wasn't exactly that close to me and my history of catching flyballs is weak. I ran towards it and didn't get under it quite in time, stuck out my glove, did something that could only be described as an ungraceful ballet move, and managed to catch the ball. I wasn't even looking at it. I beamed with pride and that euphoria of knowing I did well stuck with me for the rest of the game. It was the bottom of the 9th, and we were WAY behind. I was up to bat. If I struck out, we lost (which inevitably, at 1-11, we were gonna do anyways, but human instinct tells you to delay delay delay). I caught the corner of it, and made it to first base where I dared not venture further. After a few other teammates batted, I finished my run and my baseball game of awesome.
Sure, it doesn't sound like much to you, but it made me feel proud and tall.
After baseball, I had a much needed shower and hit up Boston Pizza and Iron Man 2 for my friends' birthday. In the movie, someone compared 2 people kissing to two seals fighting over a grape. I didn't get it, still don't get it, and will continue to not get it until someone explains this concept to me. Oh, my naivety.
Photo of the day: I HATE JUNE BUGS. THEY ARE CRUNCHY AND STICKY. They are also ALL OVER OUR FRONT STEP.
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