Wiffle Ball and Labor Day

Labor Day may have been created to celebrate the American worker, but it's pretty much known as the last holiday of summer, where everyone spends the day picnicking with family and friends, boating, swimming, and doing all of the things that makes summer so much fun.

Yesterday, after a rainy morning, we spent the afternoon playing wiffle ball with my boyfriend's son-in-law and his family. My boyfriend and I were on opposing teams ... it wouldn't be fair to stack all of the talent on one team! He was on the same team as his (very pregnant) daughter, and I was on a team with his son-in-law ... and two little girls (probably around ten years old), who pretty much won the game for us! The game was tied at the end of the ninth inning, so we went into overtime. Our team scored five runs, then we took to the field to defend our lead. I don't remember how many (if any) runs the opposing team scored before those two pint-sized dynamo's on "my" team performed a triple-play, winning the game!

Throughout the game, the guys took it easy on the women and children (chilvalry is not dead) and for that, I was grateful. While the men used the skinny yellow bat the width of a human hair, they let the gals and the kiddos use the fat red bat. The guys were purposely slow to pick up a ground ball when we batted, and seldom tried to tag us out. Fly balls, however, were fair game ... not that I had to worry much about someone catching my balls ... they seldom went airborne! I did have a few good hits, yet they almost always allowed me to get to first base ... even when they could have easily tagged me out. My boyfriend's daughter is about eight months pregnant. I asked if we tagged her out, did it count as two outs. They asked if her runs counted as two points.

Touché!

I was worried that I would make a total fool of myself ... I didn't, but it was a worry I nursed! If you add up every moment I have spent on the ball field during my entire life, it probably wouldn't add up to more than a few hours. It's not that I'm not athletic ... pound for pound, I've always been strong and agile ... it's just that I consider baseball and the like as sports for boys, and I'm more the cheerleader type! As it turned out, I'm certainly not a ringer, but at least I'm not the anchor I feared I would be.

I have a lot of chores to do today, so I'm not sure how much playing I will get to to, but regardless of what the day holds, I shall enjoy this last unofficial day of summer ... and I hope you do, too!