softball

BITCH – ARCHIVE

/ Sarah / Leave a comment

Still pulling from my old blog, and this is easily one of my favourites. I loved coaching ball; the kids, the sport and especially my colleague in coaching. Good times! 😀

Tuesday, May 4, 2010

BITCH

I’m a bitch, I’m a lover
I’m a child, I’m a mother
I’m a sinner, I’m a saint
I do not feel ashamed
I’m your hell, I’m your dream
I’m nothing in between
You know you wouldn’t want it any other way.

~Meredith Brooks “Bitch”

I remember the first time I was put in the same context as the word “Bitch”.

I was 13 years old and my mother was in the middle of a nasty exchange with her sister. A bitter and eventually vengeful person, this woman had some beef and laid out her anger in a letter, including the reference that my mother’s eldest daughter was “a bitch”.

This wounded my mother terribly. I can only imagine how she felt inside as I know how I would react if someone made a derogatory comment about one of my children, never mind my sister.

At the time, I was shocked. I remember thinking I knew what incident she was referring to, but didn’t think that action would qualify me as “a bitch.” It took me a while to process the idea that there were people out there – in this case, a family member, who had a very dark impression of me.

Kinda heavy for 13…. That kinda crap messes a person up for a while.

I can remember referring to this branding throughout my teen years. Kind of an excuse for anything I felt contrary to – because after all, I was “a bitch”.

Over time the brand became a badge of honor. I had a backbone I’m not sure I would have discovered as young and my ability to stand my ground comes from the fact that while you have a right to your opinion, I sure as Hell have a right to mine. Don’t confuse my ability to concede or defer with weakness. I simply don’t care as much about the issue as you do. Because if it matters to me, I will go down for the count. And there are very few people whose opinions truly matter to me any more.

As soon as I realized this, the better I felt about myself. A type of empowerment, if you will. Why worry about other people’s opinions when there are very few whose opinions truly matter?

Which brings me to last week. I’m assistant coaching First Born Son’s ball team AGAIN – long story there I won’t bore you with – and it came time to hold the first practice.

Faced with 13 12-13-year-old boys, I realized there needed to be a strong impression made. The hormones are working. Some of them are as tall as I am and a couple of them easily out-weigh me. This is where you have to go for the weak spot – the brain!

“When I’m talking, no one else is talking,” I started, which beautifully shut two of them up. “When Coach J is talking, no one else is talking. That’s just common courtesy. When I’m here, I’m not FBS’ mother. I’m Coach Sarah to him, just like I am to you. He’s not my kid when we’re here. There are no favorites. You will work hard. Don’t get me wrong, I like to have fun and I’m not a prude – I’m not hung up on swearing or being frustrated when you are practicing. When we are in a game you WILL represent your town to the best of your ability, which means NO swearing, NO trashing the other team AND DEFINITELY NO tearing down your team mates. When I tell you to run, YOU WILL RUN. Softball is a running sport. When I tell you that you will be running an extra lap you, will do it, because gentlemen, I bring my own vehicle for a reason – and that’s to stay here until the lights come on if that’s what it takes. I will wait you out – that’s right, I am a BITCH.

At that point, one kid fell off the picnic table…. All of their mouths dropped open – except for FBS – he knows about my bitchiness.

Three practices later, if someone speaks while I’m speaking, I merely stop talking and look at them. They immediately stop and usually they blush. When I’m running a drill and they are not executing the way they should – I stop – spell it out for them and they immediately adjust their actions. They speak to me with respect, or genuine friendship, since they realize that 90% of the time, I’m very easy to get along with and truly want for them to improve. I despise shouting.

While I would not suggest telling young girls they are bitches as a means to create character, I would have to say what started out as somewhat of a damaging experience has since become something that I would not change even if I could.

I’m a bitch, I’m a tease
I’m a goddess on my knees
When you hurt, when you suffer
I’m your angel under cover
I’ve been numb, I’m revived
Can’t say I’m not alive
You know you wouldn’t want it any other way.

It’s Just a Game!?

/ Sarah / Leave a comment

You know the one thing wrong with kids sports?

The adults.

I spent the past two days watching my niece play ball. M&M is a natural-born softball player. One might think as her aunt, I’m biased, but when team mates comment on her being a pivotal part of the team winning, and she wins MVP honours, after a while, you get to think, “Yup, she’s as good as I think she is!”

So, I’m gonna brag a little. M&M is the best parts of good sportsman and good work ethic. Her coaches use her in multiple capacities.

A ball about to be spanked.

 

She hits.

 

She runs.

She likes to have fun, but she knows when its time to get back down to business.

 

She’s not a girlie-girl. She likes to get down the job done. Sometimes that means getting dirty…

 

 

 

Her coaches decided they wanted to pitch,

and then doing some catching,

then an inning or two at shortstop.

She runs like a deer.

In short, she loves the game and loves to play. So when her team won a berth in the season finals today, (an ill-timed loss meant they had to go around the long way with extra games and extra wins), we had high hopes. It became evident early in the final that this game might not be won on the field. The coach of the other team began using delay tactics and calling our team up on technicalities. Ironically, none of the issues were valid and the game continued, with the time lost on the clock. Other teams had warned us he might try this trick.

One might also note that the base umpire is the next door neighbour of said coach, and there were at least three plays at first base, right in front of our parents, that was obviously erroneous.

The girls put forth an admirable effort, but they came up short. Some might say the better team won; I would suggest that then you hold up a ball game in 35 degree weather, it’s not about the better team, it’s about the more creative coach.

Be proud Hooligans. With only two losses in the season, you should be proud with your year.