- May 29, 2015
- 3,834
- 113
OK, I’ve been posting some real downers ... time for some feel-good stories ...
Most of the years I coached rec softball, I had Coke Bottle Carol on my team. The poor girl had all the heart in the world, but not a lick of talent or sense. Mom rode her constantly expecting her to become a star.
Initially I made the rookie coach mistake of burying her in the outfield. Then I realized she couldn’t see the ball when she almost got drilled by a lazy fly ball. The girl about jumped out of her shorts when it hit the ground next to her. I moved her to second base. She wasn’t good by any means, but she was serviceable and could at least see the ball enough to (hopefully) not get hurt. Well, maybe not even that.
She struck out every at bat (the ones she didn’t get hit by a pitch anyway). We tried bunting and that didn’t work. But she still kept at it and kept coming back every summer. Mom sat in the bleachers and rode her every summer. This went on for four years.
Her last year to play, we managed to squeak together a 16u program. It was my last year that I would coach as well. The year goes as every year did. The final game of the year, and of our careers, comes. Coke Bottle Carol’s mom can’t make the game. This girl has not had a hit in 5 years and couldn’t make a defensive play if it dropped on top of her. With mom gone and no pressure on her, she hits two doubles and makes two plays at second base!
That team was as terrible as they come, but damn if my fondest memories aren‘t of them.
Most of the years I coached rec softball, I had Coke Bottle Carol on my team. The poor girl had all the heart in the world, but not a lick of talent or sense. Mom rode her constantly expecting her to become a star.
Initially I made the rookie coach mistake of burying her in the outfield. Then I realized she couldn’t see the ball when she almost got drilled by a lazy fly ball. The girl about jumped out of her shorts when it hit the ground next to her. I moved her to second base. She wasn’t good by any means, but she was serviceable and could at least see the ball enough to (hopefully) not get hurt. Well, maybe not even that.
She struck out every at bat (the ones she didn’t get hit by a pitch anyway). We tried bunting and that didn’t work. But she still kept at it and kept coming back every summer. Mom sat in the bleachers and rode her every summer. This went on for four years.
Her last year to play, we managed to squeak together a 16u program. It was my last year that I would coach as well. The year goes as every year did. The final game of the year, and of our careers, comes. Coke Bottle Carol’s mom can’t make the game. This girl has not had a hit in 5 years and couldn’t make a defensive play if it dropped on top of her. With mom gone and no pressure on her, she hits two doubles and makes two plays at second base!
That team was as terrible as they come, but damn if my fondest memories aren‘t of them.