Baseballs and my head

So we are going to a Twins game this weekend.  Who are they playing? I think the White Socks. I don't know, I just know I'll be with my guys and that's good enough for me. All that I care about is that we are far enough away from being struck by a ball.

This concern I have goes back to my childhood schools days and the practice of forcing a child to play sports no matter how uncoordinated she was at playing said sport. It goes back to the days when she was always picked last for teams and often fought over which team she should be on.

She, being me, never adapted to that environment. So, when it was time to play, I did whatever was necessary to survive the ordeal.

When I was on a soft ball team, I made sure to stay as far out of the playing area, so far out in the field that a flying ball would seldom get to me. And when we played volley ball I mentally prepared myself for forearms would be burning and aching as soon as that first ball came my way. And when we played dodge ball or that other game where children were lined up, and helpless, against the gym wall waiting to be struck by a rubber missile, I knew that before the first minutes were up, that thing would have struck me in the head. In fact, in most every sport that involved a ball, a few knocks to my head were par for the coarse.  I think that phenomena has something to do with my ineptness at the game.

With this kind of history behind me, I refuse to play anything and I am very reluctant to go view anything. I'm a party pooper, so be it.

So one day when my husband informed me that his son had tickets to a Twins game and wanted us to go with him and his girlfriend, I told him about this ball-in-the-head history of mine. I said, "You know Earl, anytime I'm near a game involving a ball, the ball always hits me in the head." He said, "Don't say that, it just might happen."  He knew my feelings about sports, but he really didn't believe that a ball would find my head in the masses watching. End of conversation and we went to the game with our umbrellas and our catcher's mitts.

When we got through the gates of the stadium, we found our way to the bench numbers that Ryan found on the tickets. The spots were at the ground level, right behind the flower boxes and right behind third base. We had come early enough so the guys could watch the practice pitches and hits. This was a perfect spot for them.

Emily and I got our stuff and ourselves settled for a few hours of baseball, cheering, and rousing organ music. The day was warm and the sun was out. A perfect day to be there with our peanuts and cracker jacks.

While I was looking around and rummaging through my stuff, there was a crack of a bat. I didn't pay much attention because the bats were cracking a lot during practice.  But moments later, Earl began saying, "It's coming, it's coming." Suddenly I realized what he was saying, and in fear and self preservation, I ducked to the floor not knowing what he really meant by "It's coming, it's coming."

As soon as I was down, a line drive ball shot past the space my head had occupied a moment before. The ball slammed into the empty bench behind me, the noise echoing throughout the stadium. Then harmlessly it rolled to the floor.

Earl reached over and picked up the ball that was meant for me. Needless to say, he could hardly believed what just happened. All I could say was, "I TOLD YOU THIS WOULD HAPPEN." From then on I sat in terror waiting for the next attack, and I fervently prayed to God to protect me.
Well, God heard my cry and before the game started some folks came to us telling us we were in their seats. Ryan looked at the tickets and, low and behold, our seats were really on the next level far above the crowds and renegade balls.
My relief was great. There was a roof that hung over the seats in this portion of the stadium. The bathrooms and food were in easy reach, and the chairs were cushioned. The view was much smaller, but everything was perfect as far as I was concerned.
After the game, and when we got out of the stadium, we each signed the ball and now it sits in our china hutch as a reminder for me of how fast God acts when one prays fervently.
Oh, and for this game coming up. I made sure we are in the same, safe, seats we had last time.