As I think back about the times of my life that I have had to deal with this disease, I remember both the good and the bad times; each having an equally important part in my story. But, like most people, I would rather concentrate on one of the fonder memories.

If I remember right, my youngest daughter was about ten or eleven before the softball season started at the little league. I was excited as the opening day drew near, as this would be the first year that I had my own team. I was also pretty sure that it could be my last year coaching as my daughter was taking an interest in travel ball and I honestly didn’t believe that there would be time for both. I know that may not seem like a lot to those that have had an abundance of success in their lives, and that really doesn’t matter to me. I was excited.

The season started and the girls played well for their age and experience. For most of the season the team was in a tight battle for first place. It wasn’t that there were any other teams that were really any better. It was just that the team that we were battling played their best game when playing my team. They had my teams number.

With only three games left in the season, we were once again facing our nemesis. Both my assistant coach and I were very aware that if we won this game, that we would own first place. There wouldn’t even be a need for a championship game. As I pulled the girls together, and before I had a chance to speak, my assistant blurted out the implications of winning that game. As I watched the girls jaws drop and their eyes open wider than I could have imagined, I just shook my head in dis-belief. I had learned early on that you had to deal with girls differently than you do with boys, especially at this age. Boys you can challenge, get in their face and dare them to get beat, and they will do their level best to win that game to prove you wrong. But with girls, you best bet is to build them up; tell them how proud you are of them and remind them that in your eyes, they are awesome.

After the game, my team and I sat on the ground next to the concession stand as their parents stood behind them. Most of the parents rested their hands on their hips or even crossed their arms. I don’t believe that there was a one of them that cracked a smile. It wasn’t that they were upset with their daughters. It was quite the opposite. They new that they had the ability to beat that team, but didn’t understand why that hadn’t come to be. After the kids had left, I asked my assistant to never, ever, say anything like that to the girls again.

The result of that game made the rest of the season a lot more tense. We had a better record than everyone, but that team. We were tied with them but they had the lead in our head to head competition, three to one. We had to win the last two games to have a chance at the championship.

The two games came and went, with easy victories in both. Now it was time for the championship game. And you probably guessed correctly, thinking that it would be against our main foe. As the girls warmed up, the tension was obvious as their throws were not as clean and their fielding suffered as well. I knew that they were aware of what lay ahead of them. With a win, they were champions. If they lost, it would have been just another year of playing softball.

The ump called my attention and told me that we would be starting in just a couple of minutes. So I called the girls together, hoping to give the best pre game speech of my life. The girls huddled around and I could see the excitement in their eyes and the nervousness of their squirming feet. I started to say what I had planned when my assistant blurted out, “If we win this game, we will be champions.” I couldn’t believe what I just heard. And I was not surprised to see her comments affect the girls much the same as her earlier statement. Totally frustrated, I looked at her and asked her to remain quiet. I think that the term “Shut-up” might have been used.

I did my best to give my pre-game speech, talking a little longer in hopes of downing out their memory of what my assistant coach had said. The girls took the field and played soundly for the first two or three innings; keeping the score within one run either way. But then it fell apart. No matter what my girls did, it just wasn’t good enough to be competitive. One score at a time, the other team clawed and scratched their way to a huge lead.

Now it was gut check time. It was the last inning and we were the visiting team. We had one last at bat and then even if we were able to perform a miracle, we would have keep the other team from scoring. But who was I kidding? I looked at the score board one last time just to see if I might have miss-read it. Nope, it was the same as it had been just a few seconds earlier.

Home: 14 Visitor: 3

To be honest I really had no idea how I could motivate the girls to overcome such a large score, in only one inning. As my mind was spinning out of control I saw something interesting in the other dugout. I squinted my eyes to make sure that I wasn’t misunderstanding what I thought I saw. The league commissioner was handing out the first place pins to the other team. The coaches were laughing and patting each other on their backs as their girls started cheering. I use the word “cheering” very loosely, taunting would be a better fit.

I pulled the girls together one last time. I told them that there was no reason why we couldn’t win this game. I told them that they had hit much better pitching and that the score should be reversed. I looked at the older girls, my daughter being one of them, and told them they should be hitting her pitches to the outfield, instead of the little dinkers that were stopping right in front of the pitcher. I told them that they were much better than that. Then I looked at the younger ones and told them that there wasn’t any reason why they couldn’t hit the ball as hard as the older ones. I told them that they could win this game. All that they had to do was want it. I paused for a moment, taking time to look into each of the players eyes. Then I quietly said, “I know what I want. Now what do you want? Do you want to leave here champions? I got the answer that I wanted. As if they had practiced this a thousand times, they responded with a resounding yes. With a huge smile on my face, I repeated the question and got the same answer, only thing different was the increased intensity of their response. “All right” I said, “Lets go get’em.

As I walked over to third base coaching box, I couldn’t help but notice an uneasiness within the other teams coaches and fans. I am sure that they were confident that they would win, but I don’t believe that they understood why my team was cheering and so excited in a game that they were sure to lose.

We were at the top of our batting order as the batter stepped into the box. She was one of the strongest girls on the team. As the umpire got into position, I couldn’t help but be realistic. To overcome, would be awesome, but very unlikely. I still believed whole heartedly in the girls, but I was in the beginning process preparing myself for the loss.

The first pitch zipped by the lead off batter with a swing and a miss. I gave the batter a signal. She nodded her head as she prepared for the next pitch. It was delivered with the same zip as he first. But instead of the sound of a dull thud as it hit the catchers glove, a loud crack was heard as the bat drove the ball to the outfield. The only thought that I had was was wondering where that had been in the past games against this team. She ran hard, making it to second base. I was excited about the improved hitting, but that was just one hit, and hits don’t count.

The next batter was my daughter. And I have to say that she is a very sound athlete, and I was relieved to see her in the batters box. The first pitch left the pitchers hand, only to be hit hard and sent to the outfield, driving in the lead off batter.

One by one, we were ticking away at the score. The one memory that I have of this time was of the excitement and nerves battling each other. It was like riding a very cruel roller coaster. As soon as we would score a run, I was overjoyed. But almost instantly reminded of the huge task before us.

We worked our way through the batting order, down to the little girl that battled the ninth position. And if you don’t understand the importance of a good sound batting order, try coaching a season and you will quickly learn.

As she stepped into the batters box, I was aware that the game could be over right at that moment. She was the weakest hitter on the team. She was the youngest on the team and seriously intimidated my the older pitchers. The pitchers at that age could throw the ball fairly hard, but weren’t always accurate, hitting too many batters. So she had learned that if you step out of the batters box, you greatly reduce the chances of being hit. There is only one problem with that. The umpires will usually call strikes in that situation. And that is something that we could not afford. We were two points down at that point and had two outs against us.

The first pitch was thrown and she did just as I had expected, stepping out of the box.
“Strike ” yelled the ump. The pitch had been so far out of the strike zone that there was no doubt that it would have been called a ball if she would have stood her ground. She turned to look at me and I shrugged my shoulders as if to say, “Its up to you now, I can’t do it for you.” She stepped back in the box and waited for the next pitch. The pitcher wound up and fired the ball, nailing my batter squarely in her ribs. She dropped the bat gently, and with an arm tucked against her sore ribs, she trotted proudly to first base. It took a second for me to realize what had just happened. I was so sure that the game would end with her at bat, that I didn’t dare look any further. But we were at the top of our batting order once again. The dream of a championship was now more tempting than ever. It was right there in front of us, but yet, with a single play, could be unattainable.

The inning ended with a score of 16 to 14. I couldn’t believe that my girls had regained the lead. They had been part of something great that day. Now they had to do something that they had not been able to do against that team; stop them from scoring.

As excited as I was about being at the top of our batting order previously in the inning, I was equally fearful as I noticed that they were also at the top of their order. Our pitcher took the mound and threw the first pitch, missing badly. After a few more pitches, their lead off batter jogged to first base on a walk. My thought was, “This could not be happening, not after what the girls had accomplished.”

The next batter stepped into the batters box, more confident now than ever. She swung the bat, making contact with the ball. But it was not a strong hit, only traveling to the infield. My daughter fielded that ball at third base and fired it to first. There was the first out. Only two more to go. But with a runner in scoring position, we were far from out of the woods.

That is when our pitcher stepped it up and made each pitch count. Strike one, two and three. Two down, one to go. When the umpire stood after the last pitch of the game, yelling the words that I wanted to hear, our girls jumped high into the air, throwing their gloves as they screamed excitedly.

That was truly an awesome experience. To see those young girls face adversity. Not only did they not waiver, they fought back and kicked a little butt in the process. I only hope that they will one day be able to reflect on this experience and remember just how amazing that they were that day.