Not that I want to toot my own horn or anything, but I got to enjoy something very special this week, something that made me feel great about myself.  Who doesn’t need a moment like that every once in a while?

It all started a few weeks ago when one of the coaches at my school sent out a mass e-mail.  The school was looking for staff volunteers to play at the annual Relay for Life softball game against a rival school.  Now normally, I would have deleted the e-mail.  After all, I don’t have an athletic bone in my body and would be of no use to any team.  But the school we were playing was special.  The principal of the rival school just so happens to be a friend of my husband’s family and for that very reason I felt compelled to volunteer.  So I did!  I found myself regretting it the moment I sent the “I’m in!” response e-mail.  “I’ll look like a fool” I told myself, “If we lose, it will be because of me”.

As the days got closer I kept trying to figure out ways to get out of playing.  I’ll admit it, I was so embarrassed that I even skipped out of the “practices” that my school put together.  I needed to get crafty.  So the day before the game I looked up how many teachers and staff had volunteered.  Surely there were plenty enough people that I could, if I made my desires clear, sit on the bench and cheer on my team right?  So I did just that.  The day before the game, I went to pick up my t-shirt from the coach and as I approach her I said “Alright coach! Let’s talk strategy.”  I jokingly (but not so jokingly) put my hand on her shoulder and said “Banke doesn’t play in the outfield, Banke doesn’t play in the infield.  As a matter of fact, Banke doesn’t play anywhere but on the bench!” After that I felt pretty confident that I’d just play a supporting role.

So game day arrived and I had feared it all day long.  At 2:40p.m. the last bell of the school day had rung (or is it rang? hmm…).  I gathered my things and hurried home to let Pebbles out and change for the game.  Geez Louise, I was even nervous about my attire.  Did I look teacher-y enough? Sigh.  I put too much pressure on myself sometimes.  At this point it was 3:20p.m. and time to head out to the rival school for the game that was scheduled for 4:00p.m.

By the time I got there my team had already had batting practice and the home team was on the field warming up.  The first thing coach told me when I got there was “you better get out there and warm up!” apparently I was supposed to be there at 3:15p.m.  Come to think of it, I vaguely remember reading something about meeting early… oops!  But surely they wouldn’t put me on the field if I hadn’t warmed up! Right?

The game began promptly and sure enough, coach got it right.  I couldn’t help but laugh at myself when I saw the line-up.

Yup. I was sittin’ pretty.  After all, the coach had given me just what I wanted… hadn’t she?  But as I stood there and looked at the roster I couldn’t help but know that something was wrong.  I was perfectly capable of participating.  And seriously, what kind of person offers to participate with the intentions of not participating? phh!  As I looked around me I realized how silly I was being.  I wasn’t the only rookie in the dug-out, and I wasn’t the only non-athlete to volunteer.  I even had students who showed up with a sign with MY name on it.  I couldn’t NOT play.  So I marched over to the coach and said “you know, I was just kidding right?  If you need me… I’ll play”.  Even then what I was saying was halfhearted.  I was still hoping that there might be a slight chance that they wouldn’t need me.

But next thing I knew I was out in right field hoping with every inch of my body that only right handed hitters would be sent to the base (which means that the ball would most likely go towards left field AWAY from me).  It was the end of what I think was the 4th inning and I had lucked out.  No mean baseballs had come my way.  But I wasn’t in the clear yet.  No, my name was half way down the line-up and I was hitting either this inning or the next.

My heart started racing and I tried my very best not to show my nervousness.  With my hands up on the fence, I watched my colleague Adeena give her best as she swung at the ball.  Although she was struck out, she entered the dug-out with a smile and said to me “THAT’S the catcher you want to have! He tells ya when to swing!”  That bit of news was encouraging but it was the bottom of the 5th and I was second to hit on the list.  I anxiously waited until the bottom of the 6th and hoped that I’d be as lucky as Adeena and get the same catcher.  No such luck.  This was ALL me baby. How bad could it be?  After all, we were losing 0 to a gazillion anyway.

Finally the moment had arrived.  The crowd started cheering my name as I approached the base.  The kids were so loud and I was just mortified.  I kept telling myself that I wanted to make the kids proud.  I didn’t want to let them down.  Then, I somehow found myself thinking of Jon.  Having played baseball his whole life (even in college), he still finds himself occasionally playing for a city softball team, and EVERY time he plays he tells me that he will try to hit a home-run just for me, and nine times out of ten he comes home and tells me that when he hit that homer and ran towards home plate, he thought of me.

Now it was my turn.  I may not hit a home run, but I’d hit something and damn-it, it would be for my husband.

So there I was up to bat with no one to help me but myself.  The pitcher was over six feet tall and wore a black dry fit t-shirt with white jersey shorts.  He knew I wasn’t a threat.  I could see it on his face.  But 5’3″ little old me wasn’t scared anymore

He threw his first pitch and I didn’t swing.  It wasn’t good enough.

Then my moment of glory came.  I swung with all my might at that second pitch and by golly I HIT THE BALL!  The crowd was going wild as I ran my little heart out towards first base.  As a matter of fact, I ran so hard that I knocked myself and the first baseman off balance but I could hear the crowd and my team screaming.  The right fielder had dropped the ball and I needed to keep running!

I could feel the soft squishy mat beneath my feet as I triumphantly jumped over second base.  I was so excited that I forgot to STAY on the base and the second baseman (remember that principal that’s friend’s with my in-laws?) smiled at me as he took the ball, tagged me and said “you’re out”.  But the crowd wouldn’t have it!  I was just a poor little teacher who didn’t know the rules.  It would be down right mean to steal this moment of victory from me.  So the shortstop walked up to me, gave me a fist-pound and said “that never happened”.  They were letting me stay in the game!

You’d think that by this point my glory moment was over but it wasn’t.  Nope, the good Lord had more if store for me just like He always does.  The next hitter swung the bat and it was a good enough hit that I made it safely to third base.  As I stood there the third base coach told me to listen for him.  So I set my eyes on the prize and waited patiently for my instructions.

“RUN Emily RUN!!!”

As I raced toward home base I could feel the moment finally setting in.  The crowd was going wild, my students and colleagues were proud of me and my husband would be too.  Not only did I hit the first double of the game but I had made the first run for our team! Zero to a gazillion we were no more!  As I ran towards the dug-out my teammates cheered me on and gave me high fives galore.  Someone even yelled out “MVP Banke!”

The moment was priceless.

Sure, we lost the game, but I was feeling like a winner.  I had exceeded my own expectations and reminded myself that even the weak, small, and the insecure, are capable of greatness.