Playing Softball

Growing up in the town I grew up in we didn’t play baseball. We played fastball. Whip-pitch, windmill ,big ball, softball whatever your name for it it wasn’t baseball, but it’s all we had so I played it.

I was a pitcher and played first base in my teenage pinnacle years. As a pitcher I was mediocre, I was tall which was good for playing first base because I could stretch far but I was never able to use my height to generate enough pitch speed to be intimidating in that regard off of the mound. I was however very erratic with my control and would occasionally throw a pitch and have it wind up somewhere over the backstop. If anything the batter’s were kept on their toes against me.

When I was in grade seven or eight my team was playing out of town and my dad, who was out of the picture f

Anyhow on this day our regular pitcher who was ten times better of a pitcher than me was away somewhere and I was on the hill the whole game.

In the fourth or fifth inning with two outs and a man on first and third I took a line drive off of an aluminium baseball bat in the groin. Before we go any further I have two questions;

A. Do you know how much closer a pitcher is to home in fastball than baseball?

B. Do you know how hard an aluminium baseball bat can propel an object?

Ok I know what your thinking. Some of you are wondering if I was wearing a cup, a jock. Unfortunately no I wasn’t. I had never been hit in the groin like that before plus I was a bit crazy. I was a goalie in hockey and I would sometimes forget my cup at home and play without one. Darwin award considerations.

As it was though I hit the mound faster than Tara Patrick falling to my knees and sitting on my heels.

A crowd encircled me and as I regained my composure the umpire signalled for an out.

The ball was still lodged in my groin do to my body position and had never actually touched the ground , the inning was over and that ladies and gentlemen is my greatest, most painful and attention gathering catch.

After the game my dad stated that he was getting me a cup and jockstrap.

My dad went away again the next day. He never did get me that cup.

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