Old friends and the game of softball

You know how it happens. You go somewhere, expecting to do something, then something else happens along the way, something like bumping into people whom you have met in the past, some of them you knew well and others you just happened to occasionally see just because of a common interest. Playing softball this summer reminded me of this de ja vu experience once again. And it always makes me feel awkward. I cannot describe the feeling sometimes, as the backdrop of the unintended meeting helps to block your mind from your chance encounters, but in your inner consciense, you are thinking of the people you have met, not softball.

Yesterday, we played softball, which I guess is an “OK” sport, now that I realize I can actually swing and transport the ball somewhere, as opposed to my earlier experiences with this sport in the past. And then I meet people whom I have not seen for years, some looking as if time had no effect on them, and others looking a bit different from how I remembered them. I randomly receive the occasional “Hey, how are you? Still playing basketball?” question, but the question about anything else in my life poses a bit more difficulty for me to answer in a curt manner, especially considering how things have turned out for me over the years. Some of you might understand the situation all too well. People expecting something of you, but then, when life pulls a “curve ball” and your path takes a different course, what do you say to people? How do you explain things in a way that keeps it simple? I still cannot figure the answer to that question. Being truly honest, even with old friends, cannot be so simple.

And in the end, I felt as if I was “dodging another fast ball,” concentrating and swinging my hardest, and yet striking out . . . once again. And that was exactly how I ended the softball game yesterday. Although I realized the pitches were bad, I still swung, hoping that something good would happen out of my good effort. Besides, I had no intention of leaving the game with a pathetic walk to first base. I decided that if I were going to bat for the last time, I would swing my hardest, or strike out while trying. That was my mentality yesterday, as well as for the past year. Oh, how the game of softball mirrors life. I am sick of trying so hard and missing.

Maybe my worst enemy is myself.

~ by Beni on July 21, 2008.