“I’m sorry did you actually want to hit the ball?!?“
There’s always next time. and by next time I don’t mean your next at bat – I mean your next game because Mo’Ne Davis is the first female to throw a shutout in the Little League World Series. and hopefully not the last.
Mo’ne Davis is not just a #BADASS baseball pitcher – she’s also a #BOSS and I #bowDOWN to her.
➤ ➣ ➢ ➤ ➣ ➢ ➤ ➣ ➢
Growing up I knew a girl who played baseball. I never understood why, but I secretly admired her for having the courage to play the sport she wanted – not the sport she was “supposed” to play (i.e. softball). and she got to sit in the dugout with all the baseball players – I mean have you seen those uniforms…#lucky
I myself wanted to play football. yes, actual football…#wtf
and I did. for about two seconds. and in those two seconds I earned my teammates’ respect. but I had to fight for it. #literally and no, I did not claw and scratch my way to the top like a “girl” – I pulled and pushed because it’s way more efficient. #duh This “girl” likes to work smarter, not harder. #alldayeveryday
So here’s the story of how I broke the “rules” and joined the football team…the day after I quit the cheerleading team. #wtf
In 7th grade I joined the cheerleading team. I didn’t know much about cheerleading but I did know 2 things:
1. Under no circumstances was anyone ever going to toss me in the air. Now I know under the right circumstances this can actually be fun, but at the time I witnessed what happens if they forget to catch you. and I mean they literally forgot to catch their flyer (the girl they JUST tossed into the air). Yeah, I’m still confused about that too….
2. I’d rather be playing football.
But my best friend Spank loved cheerleading, and I loved her – so I joined the cheerleading squad. I figured since I was going to have to hear her talk about all the drama I might as well be there and spare myself the endless reenactments of how Matt smiled at Michelle instead of Sara and now Sara was mad at Michelle, not Matt, because Michelle knew that Sara liked Matt. We were 12 years old. Boys ruled our universe. I mean what else was there to talk about…world peace?!?
Anywho about halfway through the season we made our usual tunnel at the end of the game. For those of you unfamiliar with this formation because you’ve been living under a rock, it’s when the cheerleaders form two lines and create an arch by interlocking their fingers. If you’re still confused look at any wedding video from the early 90s. To do this, you may also need to find a VHS player. and if you don’t know what that is – you’re too young to be reading this blog. #comebackinfiveyears
Well this particular afternoon the football team decided to skip our tunnel and leave us standing there looking like idiots. I was furious. This is flag football that we’re talking about – not the National Football League. So the least these pre-pubescent turds could do is run through our damn tunnel. especially since we cheered for them even when they SUCKed. #balls Wow. I feel better. I’ve only been holding on that for 10 + years. #hotmess
So I quit the cheerleading squad. I only joined the team in the first place after being “convinced” of how much fun it would be. To be fair, I did have fun…yelling. Apparently I’m pretty good at. my neighbors in college would definitely agree but for different reasons. I’ll save that story for later.
As pissed off as I was at the football team, I also realized that I could use their obnoxious behavior as leverage. Leverage for what you ask? Getting my father to let me join the football team. Yes, I realize that sounds #BATSHITCRAZY – wanting to join the team that had just been complete a**holes. I could use the expression “If you can’t beat them, join them.” as my rationale but the truth was – I just wanted to play football. And to be fair, my father was not opposed to me being on the field – he just preferred that I be wearing a skirt, not shorts and a cup.
After telling my father the day’s events and getting him sufficiently agitated, I reminded him that joining the cheerleading team had been his brilliant idea. #FAIL My father hated the idea of his daughter playing football, but he hated the fact that his daughter had been publicly humiliated far more. And although he still had numerous objections, I was able to at least convince him that it was only fair to let me give football a try. BUT this trial was contingent on me not getting hurt – because how the hell would he explain that?!? I assured him that this was flag football, not tackle football, so I would not be getting pinned by any boys – apparently I was saving that pleasure for later….#highschool
When I arrived at my first practice the guys on the team, many of whom were my friends, behaved like I was the enemy – snickering, refusing to give me the ball, and running away from me. But I had worked too damn hard to get on this field to let any these pre-pubescent turds ruin my chance at football greatness. and by greatness I mean at least one touchdown. I had spent hours – ok …days perfecting my touchdown dance. and “nobody puts Baby in the corner.” O.M.G. I’ve always wanted to say that. #socorny
We started running drills. During the second drill, I tried to pull the wide receiver’s flag off. but nothing happened. I tugged harder. still, nothing happened. It was only then that I realized they had all tied on their flags. It was a brilliant little plan but what they didn’t anticipate was my death grip. I refused to let go. Oh hells no. I was going to remove his flag if I had to take his shorts, his underwear and my dignity along with it. Needless to say we ended up tumbling to ground. But you best believe that I didn’t get up until I had his flag. #boom
It was only after my victory dance that I realized my middle finger was throbbing. Apparently in my fervor to obtain the flag I had injured my finger. I didn’t care – but I knew my father would. As I pondered the fate of my budding football career, the quarterback came up to me and told me that I was #amazeballs – minus the balls. and then he apologized. and with his apology came his respect. and with his respect came friendship. and we are still friends until this very day.
As for my budding football career….oh that ended reallll quick. even faster than my college boyfriend. #3minuteman Upon seeing my injured finger my father made me quit the team. and although I was sad, I was also proud – because I had proved to myself and the team that I could play. not like a “girl” but as a girl. and like a #BOSS. #bowDOWN