by Sr Nunother
I know my baseball. I know the difference between a splitter and a cutter and what I’d do with the bases loaded and a 3-0 count (look for a fastball down the middle). So I was really happy when I heard sisters’ recreation included a baseball game. Granted, the bat was short, rotund molded plastic, the ball a tennis ball, and the bases different colored frisbees. Still my approach was all business. I pitched, called balls and strikes (unasked I might add) and did my part at the plate. It occurred to me that not all of the sisters shared my purist views when I observed the following play: the ball was hit between first and second, reasonably well fielded by the second baseman, who then tagged out her own team’s short stop as the base runner scampered to third. High-fives all around. My baseball sensibilities were offended and my mood blackened. Two things occurred to me – they were having fun, I was not. They are seamstresses, teachers, cooks, musicians, gardeners, artists and good sports. I am not. Next week — God willing — I hope to lighten up.