It started with the bat.

I restored my trunk today to its former glory (before it became my rabbit hole). This may sound like a very minor task, but the trunk of my car has been my permanent softball stash for the past two and half years... So in a way, and as lame and cliche as it sounds, the clearing out of this horde resembled the final clearout of what was left of high school in my life. I mean, excluding friends and such.

I separated things into "keep" and "trash" piles, throwing away three of four pairs of cleats, most of my hand warmers that undoubtedly have stopped working, a couple water bottles, four tennis balls (I was always prepared for a good game of Wall Ball), a mini-nerf football (Wacky-Pack prize, and I kept it because ya never know when you might need it), and the older and crustier of two pairs of batting gloves. Things I kept: old glove (as an extra and because it's hard to just trash a trusty, worn-in mitt), my current glove (though I'm not sure it still qualifies as "current"), my better pair of batting gloves, Ringor cleats, softball bag (thank you Coach Sterling for letting that one slip through your fingers my freshman year :D), two tennis balls, a head band, pre-wrap, and 5 softballs.

I felt better after I had finished because that really was the last flare of high school needing closure before I leave on Tuesday. But while I was trying to decide what was to be kept, I found myself picking up my old OKC bat... just to give it a swing or two. Next came the batting gloves followed by what has become an extension of my left hand over the past 12 years of my life. Honestly, it didn't feel like anything had changed. I've played for so long that when a bat and glove are put into my hands, it's just like picking right back up where I had left off at the end of season. It threw me back in time, leaving me desperate for a simple game of catch or some energy-relieving batting practice, in which I would prefer to be chasing down balls in the outfield. I was sad on April 25th when the seniors played our last game, but I think I will be more sad when February rolls around and the overcast, cold weather kicks in. To me, that is softball time.

A long way from where I originally began, but yes... trunk cleanout. I am ready for Tuesday now :D

Meanwhile, I just watched The Merman win his seventh gold medal. And it wasn't by much: one one-hundredth of a second. Michael Phelps really is something else.

And the Boys of Arlington are losing 6-0 in the bottom of the 7th. Our offense hasn't been the same since the chaotic 19-17 loss at Fenway on Monday. It seems our pitching staff can single handedly extinguish the fire under the Ranger bats. We are so close to greatness... it's maddening.

Last Friday in Denton. Woo! :D