Personal Narrative: Softball

Softball has always been a huge part of my life. It controlled my schedule, the friends I had, my families’ time, and anything else that I held near and dear to my heart. I started playing softball when I was six, joined a travel softball team at ten, and ended up making one of the hardest decisions of my life at sixteen. Softball wasn’t just my sport and my life; it was also my families. Playing a competitive sport whiles growing up was so tough and the stress that was put on me early at a young age still affects me today. Quitting a sport that you use to identify yourself with is no walk in the park. It was early October on a Tuesday afternoon. The air was cool and the breeze cloaked my body in a blanket of warmth. The weather was amazing.

I couldn’t stop thinking about how much I just wanted a normal life. I have practiced softball every day for years with no breaks and I felt like I just missed out on so much. I was always so stressed about making time for my school work, getting recruited, and all while trying to make my father proud. I listened to him ramble on about the new team and some of the disagreements he had with my new coach. I now play for a coach that I can’t stand and play with girls I could care less about. Now I feel like my head is going to explode. How can I be thinking about quitting one of the things I love so much? How will my dad take it? My parents put so much money and time into this how could I just be so selfish and throw it all away? I can feel myself struggling to stay calm. I look at my dad and right before I crack and let all my emotions flow out to him I hear the brakes squeak and the truck come to a halt. We were at the softball field. My dad opened his door and jumped down. “Okay go grab your bag, your cleats and then help me unload the gear,”. I exhale a huge breath and try to keep my composure. This was not the place to show people your weaknesses. I slide out of the truck grab my stuff and made my way down to the red dirt field. I hang my bag up and look on to see a large group of girls all putting their cleats on, talking, laughing, and carrying on. These girls aren’t my teammates. The other girls on my old team were. I slide

My dad walks up to me and gives me a side hug. As soon as he squeezed me into one of those, I’m so proud of you dad hugs, I cracked. My built-up emotions began to flow out of me like a river, in the form of tears. I couldn’t even make it off the field. I cried and I cried. I caught my breath and looked at my dad, “Dad I can’t do this anymore. I miss my team. I miss the joy softball used to give me. I miss you as a coach. I just can’t do this anymore. But I just want to make you and mom happy.” He gave me a look. A look I wasn’t expecting. I was expecting disappointment or anger. Instead he looked concerned, even content. “Alanna, I am so proud of you. I will always be proud of you no matter what you do. If you need a break that’s okay. I know you’re not having fun right now and I don’t want you to feel like you have to do anything.” A wave of relief washed over my whole body. I cleared my throat before speaking again, “Dad I don’t want to play right now. I love the game, but I need time to focus on myself and do what I want to do,” My father looked at me and smiled, “No matter what you choose to do I’ll still love you,”. My dad and I hugged it out on a now dark and chilly red dirt softball field. The breeze carried the smell of freshly cut grass throughout the air. It felt like, in that moment, the breeze carried all my frustrations and built up emotions on the way. My dad and I walked off that field for