January 29, 2003. That was the first day that I saw Columbia, Missouri, my new home. I’m not quite sure what I was expecting to see as we drove into the town. Rolling hills? Beautiful rainbows? I was only five after all. But the minute we drove past the softball fields, I knew it was my destiny to play. It was about two months later when we were in Wal-Mart that I saw my first glove. It was pink with black laces, the inside was soft fur, and it had a sweet tangy leather smell that made my nostrils flare. I looked up at my mom with those sweet puppy dog eyes that all six year olds use when they want something desperately.

“Now what on earth would you need that for?” She said, with a hint of annoyance implying that she did not want to pay twenty dollars for it.

“So I can play softball.” I said, almost in tears because I knew she wouldn’t want to buy it for me.

“Nonsense, you don’t know how to play.” She said, crushing my dreams.

“But I can learn it will be easy!” I said with hope in my voice. What I didn’t realize was that it would be everything but easy.

Summer eventually came around and my parents signed me up for t-ball. As a surprise they gave me the pink glove that I wanted so badly at the store a few months earlier. The time came for me to go to my first game, and I was so excited for it. As we drove nearer to the fields the butterflies in my stomach went wild. I was so nervous; not only for the game but for all of the new people I would have to meet. Back then, I was horrible with new people. I couldn’t stand to go anywhere that I didn’t know someone, let alone eleven other people who had known each other for a while. I was the new girl then, the weird one. The heat radiated off of the pavement as I stepped out of the car and hit me in a wave of warmth. Even though it was 100 degrees outside, chills went through my body as I saw the field. ‘This is a mistake’ I thought to myself as I trudged to the dugout. There were strangers everywhere, they were all kids, but I knew none of them. The coach called me over and introduced me to everyone, and eventually I learned everyone’s names. During the first game of my life, I struck out, on a tee! It swung at the ball at least ten times, and after that they just felt bad so they said I could get on the base. That is the first memory I ever had of recreational softball.
A couple years later, I got up the courage to try out for the Diamond Divas, my first competitive softball team. It was a 10u team and all of the girls were older than me. Back then before tryouts, all I could imagine were their eyes darting back and forth between me and each other, like snakes do before attacking their pray. The day finally came, and I had to face the reality that I would have to meet new people, again.