Back in my hayday, I used to be a pro baller. You know, all star 2nd baseman on an all girls fast pitch softball team. I kid you not, I was the absolute shit out there. I could steal a base better than any guy out there and then life made a sharp turn toward me becoming a woman. A boring ass woman. Damn!
See, what happened was, I got hit with the ball in my face, of all places. That damn ball smacked the shit outta my jaw. It hit me so hard, I can’t remember if the damn thing was thrown at me or somebody hit it with a bat. Then, when I turned 18, I started playing on a lame women’s team. They were lame ’cause they were old to my 18 years. They could play, some of them but it wasn’t as fun ’cause it wasn’t fast pitch. It was plain old softball and I be damn if I couldn’t run to California and back to hit that ball, it was so slow coming across the baseline. Not that I was a great hitter but I liked it coming fast, even if I was gonna miss it. There was more adrenaline going with fast pitched ball. If I could make it to the base, I knew I would steal at least one. Maybe two.
That was exciting. Being in the game. The game is more serious now and as election day approaches, I watch the news, scan FaceBook and Twitter and feel a semblance of that rush as I got on the field. Folk are watching and expecting with nervous excitement. The game is being played and we’re heading toward the last inning, folks.
I get a sense most of you folk who visit here are voters. But if you know somebody who’s pretty much gotten hit hard, kinda like I was by that softball, and thinking they’ll sit this one out, encourage them to stand up and vote. It’s not easy out here and I know that’s preaching to the choir for folk affected by Hurricane Sandy. I can’t even say I understand ’cause I haven’t the fainstest of that experience. The best of my best goes out to those folks.
Keep safe and get out the vote.