It was the perfect early morning dewy weather to play ball. Orange sun rising over the trees, grass wet with like water crystals hugging them, fresh chalk lines and a new pair of red, shiney, athletic sunglasses that my coach had given to me out of courtisy and the hard work that I had been doing- just the feeling of being rewarded for hard work was such a thrill. We were warming up; preparing for battle, just as we do every game. Every position working on their own individual warm-up.Pitchers and catcher playing under hand catch along the dugout, infielders taking them in the dirt on second base, and outfielders- and I; catching pop flies along the right field fence. All I could think was giving it all i've got because you never know who's watching, Im starting this game, and I can’t disappoint coach.

Waiting a turn in line, chatting with other girls waiting patiently and keeping my eyes locked on the ball and how the player- my teammate portrays her fundamentals as she throws it back to the catcher. Until its my turn to go. Letting the ball drop; that “thud” is the most soul shattering sound. Its letting the opponent have a small victory at the cost of your laziness and all your hard work going down the drain. the chances of even getting a hit to you in the outfield is slim. So when I do get the opportunity, I tell myself to go all out, push boundaries, and make all the hard work i did up to that point worth while for that 1 opportunity, because I may not get that opportunity again.

I step up to do my best at portraying my fundamentals as my teammate had, I watch the ball at the smack of the bat and sprint backwards because I could tell that ball was going far. It soared straight back so I had to switch my feet and turn the other direction, keeping my eyes locked on the fluorescent orb, I realize I still have a few more steps to go to intercept the ball from gravity and the ground. So I look forward on that last attempt to push not let the ball touch the wet grass crystals until allof a sudden, I was stopped. It wasn't until after everything faded black for a few seconds and I was lying on the ground that I had realized that the fence had came in between me and the ball. I remember lying there and feeling my face swelling and and shoulder throbbing with the assistant coach rushing to my side to help me off the ground saying “Gupp, you ok? can you stand up? are you okay?”; I remember everything being a blur except hearing that ball laugh at me -scream at me when it crashed into the ground on the other side of the chain link fence. My glove was empty. I had failed. The game had ended for me before it had even started.

I was still starting that game; I was still in the lineup, and I had to prove that I could work through it, so I started -in right field ironically- with the fence taunting me from behind. Laughing at the fact that it had got in the way of what I worked so hard to strive for. I played 1 and a half innings I believe and then I started to get extremely dizzy and spacing out. My coach insisted on me going to the hospital and making sure I was going to be okay to play again, because he knew I would do anything in order to get in the game again. Getting there wa a blur, and being told I couldn't play because I had a concussion was devastating. Everything I had worked for up until that moment was shattered.

Every late night hitting practice, every sprint, every weight lifted to build strength, everything was gone in that moment. It really opened my eyes to see that you can't take anything for granted because it can be taken from you in a second. I remember looking at my shiny, new red glasses to see this huge scrape in them. It was then when I realized that my sunglasses had taken a huge beating from the fence as well. I realized that those glasses had saved my eyesight. I realized that if I wasn't wearing those glasses, that I would've easily been blind in that eye, and probably wouldn't've been able to play Ever again. I couldn't express in any kind of words how grateful I am for my coach to give me those beautiful sunglasses. And I am so happy for myself because in working hard I had obtained those eye savers and saved myself so much more in the long run.

As much as I wanted to prove myself to my team and to my coach so bad, I knew that I had to let this completely heal before I even attempted anything so that it didn't get worse. Unfortunately, that had taken about 3 months. Way too much time then I had wanted. Spending those months just watching my team, and sitting on the bench with these devilish scars on my face to remind me everyday of how it was all taken away in a second. I can recall my coach looking at me while I was was watching a game one day, I was just staring at the field and the players. And he could see the pain on my face of how bad I was just starving to get out there, and I can recall him saying “I know you miss it Gupp, but you’ll get out there soon.” I slightly smiled, as he continued to say “You know, I haven't got to tell you but I was really proud of what you were doing before all this, you were playing very well and its really unfortunate this happened but you were doin’ phenomenally when you were in.” and to be congratulated by my coach like that was so rewarding and made me push more to play. I was just grateful for the fact that I could get the opportunity to get out there again instead of never even getting the chance to ever again. I still wear those glasses in every game I play since i've been able to return and I can clearly see a gash, right in front of my eyes. It is intimidating but I look at that scratch and it makes me want to work harder, push a little bit more because I know that in one moment, that could have all been taken away.