In a League of My Own

Yay! It's Friday! I love Fridays, as you should all be aware. I really don't have anything planned, besides work, but it's still exciting to know that the weekend is coming up. The forecast from my Android is that it should be sunny and in the sixties all weekend, which is decent. I can definitely handle that. I'll probably go for a couple walks to get this body in motion.

That's totally what I am going to look like by the end of the summer!

Winter sure does make a girl not want to walk anywhere! I don't even want to leave the house in the winter if I can avoid it, but the promise of summer brings with it a whole new attitude. I want to venture out into the world and do stuff. Go for walks, ride a bike, get some sun, and this year I will also be stealing bases as the coolest member of Zingerman's softball team.

We will be competing as part of Ann Arbor's restaurant league beginning in May, and I am really excited! I am totally anticipating to be a complete and utter failure at the sport, but it will be a blast! I love my coworkers, so anything I do with them is a guaranteed good time.

And who knows? Maybe I won't be such an utter failure afterall. Maybe I will be up to bat in the bottom of the ninth during our championship game. The score will be tied 9-9. The bases will be loaded and Zingerman's will have two outs. I'll step up to the plate, knock the dirt off my kleats with the bottom of my league-approved metal bat, and assume my position. The bat will rock back and forth behind my ear as I prepare for the pitch. My brows will furrow and sweat will drip from my forehead, stinging as the salty secretion enters my eyes. I don't blink. I need to have visual contact on the ball at all times. Eyes on the ball, eyes on the ball is the mantra that plays repeatedly in my head.

I have blocked out the cheers from the crowd that I enjoyed while making my way to the plate, “Sarah, Sarah, Sarah...” Though I am flattered by their enthusiastic acknowledgement of my shear awesomeness, I can not succumb to vanity at the moment. I am here for one thing and one thing only; to annihlate the competition.

The less awesome pitcher from Applebee's (or some other restaurant in the Ann Arbor area that is way less awesome than Zingerman's) prepares for the pitch. She's winding up. I lean back. She release's the ball. Wait for it. As the ball approaches just the right distance from me (acccording my calculations and superior depth perception) I begin to lean forward using all my body weight and swing toward the ball.

Metal bat against leather ball is all I can hear. It takes off like a lightening bolt, right down the middle. I run like a bat out of hell, using my superior Darby thigh muscles to catapult me around first base and toward second. The ball is nowhere in sight, so I round second and make a beeline for third. Third baseman is still waiting impatiently for the ball as I round his base and head towards home.

Home. I'm almost there. I get a sudden surge of speed as I dig my kleats into the ground, lower my head, and dart towards home. The ball is near! I can see the anticipation in the eyes of the catcher! Am I going to make it? I'm going to have to slide. I lean to the side, allow my self to drift toward the ground, and brace myself for impact.

I've made it home, but where's the ball? Did I make it? Where's the ball?!

Ok, so I stole most of that from the most epic scene in A League of Their Own...

...which is one of my favorite movies, but it could totally happen! 

Where's the ball? I don't know, you will just have to stay tuned to Discovering Sarah during the months of May, June, and July to find out how the story goes.

However it ends, I'm sure the season will be one to remember, and I can't wait to share the experience with all my readers!

Have a great weekend everyone! Check me out next week!