Lost on the diamond

After 11 years, I found my way back into softball this summer. Last year I watched the Grand Cru team take its hacks, but this year I joined.

For most of the season, I kept score. There are more talented people on the diamond, and we should have the best team possible. Sure, I like to play, but after so many years, I’m rusty. I lose balls in the lights. My depth perception is seriously out of whack and strikeouts are possible. I can’t embarrass myself out there. It has to be fun.

For the first three months, I was mostly immune. Then we hit the dog days, and players started vanishing.

I got drafted. My debut came with a reprieve; the other team had just eight players and forfeited. When we played the league’s best team – a bunch of ultra-competitors who try to put on a home run clinic in every game – my luck ran out.

I had a pair of singles and a fly out that scored a run (no sacrifice flies in the Metro Parks league). They battered us with fence shots and hard line drives all night. At least it rained through most of our time in the outfield.

In the second game, I hit the ball solidly on occasion - when I wasn't fanning at eye-level pitches.

But second base ... well, lefties don't belong there. Lefties with ten years of rust should step further away from second. We had little choice with just nine players against a team sure to give plenty of outfield shots.

I missed a few force plays, at least a dozen cutoff throws, but had one assist and one force out in two games. Our shortstop was fast and took many of the force plays on his own, reducing the need for me.

Lefties should never play second base. I proved it. Before that night, I had never played second. Two games left me toasted. On the few plays I had at first, I nearly fell over getting into position to throw. Anything hit hard was a single or more.

I hit softly to second in both at-bats. Each time the first baseman muffed the throw. Hustle counts. Since this is co-ed softball, those reached on errors turn into hits. Each one scored 2 runs. In the outfield, not a single ball came my way.

We ended up in the city tournament. I rode the pine and kept score - the latter is harder for some people than I anticipated. Tonight could brought a quick exit, a 20-4 shellacking that ended after four innings due to the run rule.

Either way, it has been a rare blast. I didn't know I missed the game this much. I missed the camaraderie of hanging with a new friend of people even more.

Next year could be different. During post-game beers and revelry, talk inevitably turned to the 2012 season. To keep the pressure off some of our bigger hitters, I might share coaching duties with one of the girls. It might be a better role.

Until then, I'll just have to find some batting cages. Not every grounder to second can be beat out.