Before I begin the story that literally changed our lives forever, I first must explain how we got to this day. Cheyenne has been playing softball since she was a young kid, and after developing a love for the game she started playing Select Softball in eighth grade. Since then it in many ways became our lives, we have traveled all over the state of Texas for games and practices, while fitting high school sports in along the way. Dad always played roadie and I was, of course, the number one cheerleader and bookkeeper. On those seemingly rare occasions when Chey wasn't on the field at tournaments, she was either studying or buying bows and t-shirts. Everyone knows after all, you can't play serious softball without your bow!!! We have hangers in every closet loaded with bows of every shape and size. (There is a very lucrative business for the super crafty at select tournaments, let me tell you!) But I will save that venture for another day, back to the story at hand which focuses on Chey’s high school ball. This was the place Cheyenne tried to bring the knowledge she learned from playing select ball, the place she tried to encourage her teammates to push themselves and improve their skills, the place to show what you are made of, but often, this was met with discord. This was her Senior Year high school ball, and the team had not been doing well.
Teenage females, you have to love them but sometimes you just want to strangle them. The girls used to be close, like two layers of paint close, but with those surging hormones and other outside influences, cracks in the paint began to form. It got to the point that they were often ready to kill one another, or totally ignoring each other all together. I had coached them when they were young, as had other parents. I tried to teach them fundamental softball while having fun and above all else to have each other's backs. For that reason, I cannot tell you how much it hurt to watch several of these talented kids not giving a damn about themselves or anyone else. They had no pride in what they were doing. It hurt to watch the ladies that did care, go out and give their all every single game, only to see balls go through others legs and watch team-mates stand at the plate and never swing the bat. It was heart wrenching!!
This lack of camaraderie was on display in full force this day, as the girls had just lost their first game of the day (after losing all of their games on the first day) of a pre-season tournament. I remember taking the girls aside between games (emotion got the best of me--grrr) and I told them they needed to get it together and figure out what they wanted from this sport. We, the parents, had laid the foundation for them to have stellar high school careers. We had taken off from work to support them and get them to practices. We gave up our time for them to make them successful, but they had to do the work-it was entirely up to them. I told them, with tears in my eyes, "If you don't give a crap, hang it up and go home." The whole time, I was fighting back tears of frustration, and I saw those baby blues of Chey's shooting daggers through my soul, telling me to shush. Oh, she was soooo mad at me!! The last thing I said to them was that I loved each and every one of them and that fact would never change, or so I thought. With that they soon took the field and I snuggled into the stands on a chilly day inside my trademark sleeping bag with all the other parents, while my husband was standing along the fence camera in hand. Little did we know this was the game that would change our lives forever.
More to come.
XOXO Make Everyday Count,
Bonnie
