What Was I Thinking? Oh Wait...I Wasn't.

Yesterday at work I received a phone call from my hubby, asking if I would help out his coworkers by pitching in to play some softball (I couldn't resist!). After much whining, do I have to run?, I'll look stupid, I'm no good at sports Bryan finally convinced me to go. I then spent the rest of work getting worried. What was I going to wear? And I didn't have a mitt, nor remembered how to hold a bat properly, or what exactly the rules are. The game wasn't until 8 pm, so the dreaded event took up my whole evening. I finally decided to wear one of Bryan's work shirts with it knotted in the back. For some reason I think it looks cute, but I'm sure the gargantuan sleeves do not. I chose a pair of running sweat pants I have that are completely splattered with paint. I didn't want to wear my one pair of ghetto plaid shorts as my toothpick legs are covered in bruises from all the work on the yard. I put on sunglasses, and actually remembered to bring a water bottle. I even put the keys on a lanyard as I didn't have a pocket to keep them in. I showed up on time and bravely walked up to Kerri and said hi. Funnily enough, none of them knew my name, I'm just Bryan's wife (which is fine by me). After all the hellos, they found a shirt for me with a number and I sat on the sidelines ready to puke. After a couple of innings, I started to get antsy. Why had I come? They weren't short on players, so I could leave right? But no, my pride wanted to try it out. My patience paid off and I was asked to play right field. Easy peasy right? Uh, no. After borrowing another person's mit, and standing out making flower bracelets, Danny warned me the upcoming batter was good and to give wide berth. I went several paces back, and that's when the ball was beaned right out to me. I went running to catch it (you know, impress all of Bryan's coworkers) and what do I do? I misjudge it and run right underneath it, which caused Danny to miss it. Oops. Once we finally got the team out, it was my turn to bat. I had to go first? So I hiked up my elbows and choked the bat the best I could remember. I struck out on the 2nd pitch. How the hell? Oh well. The next time I batted, I struck out again. Dangit. The last time I got to bat, I was hell-bent on making something happen. Oh and I did. I smacked the ball with one strike left to go. It bounced right over to the pitcher, who threw it to second, got Danny out, then they threw to first and got me out. And that was the end of the game.
Surprisingly enough, I find myself thinking if I bought a glove, bat, and better softball clothes I might actually be able to play. But then I'll have to practice. And maybe even run.