Saturday was pretty baseball filled. Mom and I went to watch my little cousin play softball, and then that evening we all went to a Royals game. It was at my cousins softball game that my mom shared this little story that I am about to tell.
When I was little, my parents tried their hardest to make me athletic. I think I played about every sport that was available. Basketball; softball; soccer (I really liked that one); cheerleading; dance. Too bad for them, it was not to be. I am not cut out for sports. But I did have my one shining moment in my softball year.
Picture this: little Whitney standing up to bat, all ready for the pitch coming my way (not really). The pitch is a little high, so I do not swing. What happens? The ball hits the top of my bat behind my head, and rolls a few inches in front of me. As I stare at the ball, everyone is yelling for me to run. So I do. Run to first, then to second, and then on to third. Yes, I made a triple without even having to swing the bat.
You have to catch the other team off guard. Trick them up a little bit.
Struck out my next time up to bat. But that's besides the point.
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