Headliners

Last week, I talked about our first softball game. Unfortunately, it got rained out so last night was our first official game. Marshall was pumped. He couldn't sit still at work or eat dinner! I, on the other hand, took the nervous approach. I couldn't stop shaking my leg or playing with my hair.

After two weekends of working on my batting skills, I was afraid it wasn't going to show. I kept in mind everything Marshall told me to do and hoped for the best. We put on our jerseys and headed to the field.

Play ball!

Since we were the home team, we were out in the field first. I was playing right field and on the second or third batter, someone hit a pop fly right to me. Marshall always told me to always keep the ball in front of you and never behind. My lack of depth perception kicked in and as soon as I thought I had it, I realized I was too far up. I did the one thing Marshall told me not to do while in the field. I let the ball go over my head and past me. Immediately, my eyes began watering. I had just lost two runs for our team with my error. At the end of the first half of the inning, Marshall came out to me and told me it was okay. My eyes were still watering but I decided there was nothing I could do about it now so I just carried on.

I had gotten into the swing of things by the second inning on the field but I had yet to bad so my nerves were still high. When I finally went up, I swung at the first pitch and hit the ball to shortstop. He grounded it and threw it to first before I could get to base. Even if it was an out, I was so happy my practicing paid off!

At the end of the games [we play two], I actually scored a run! In both games, I either hit the ball or it wasn't a good pitch. I never had a strike! I played right field and catcher with no [major] problems.

Nerves? What are they? I'm back to my 8-year-old badass self!


......sort of.

This ain't my first rodeo!

Actually, I lied. It is.

And OH MY GOODNESS was it fun! I can now say that I'm officially a Texan because I went to a rodeo. Oh, and I can say "This ain't my first rodeo" and not be lying. It's a win-win situation for me! A friend of mine even let me borrow her cowgirl boots so I definitely looked that part of a native Texan.

Thanks Amie and Mandy!

I was somewhat apprehensive about the rodeo simply because people told me they're really not that great. I guess if you grow up going to them, it's not as fun to go when you're an adult. Marshall gave me some good perspective about it by saying it's like Washington D.C. for me. Growing up, we went to D.C. every year for fields trips and family outings. When we had friends come from out of town that wanted to visit D.C., I usually dragged my feet because I thought it was boring. 

After getting our seats (luckily Marshall knew that you should sit closest to where the actions happens and not directly in the center like I had thought), we waited for the action to happen. They had a little "pre-show" action of something called "Mutton Busters." They had a sheep in the middle attached to a leash. Said sheep was not thrilled about being attached and continuously tossed around and plopped on the ground trying to get out. I was not happy to see that because I thought the sheep was hurting himself. Marshall assured me the sheep was fine. What happened next still makes me giggle. Little children, aged three to five, jumped on the back of these sheep holding on to extra fur while the sheep ran out of the gate frantically to the other sheep. Sometimes, the sheep would just stop once he got to his friends while the child still clung to him.

After that, the real show began. I saw the rodeo clown roll out a barrel towards the middle of the arena. Next thing I know, the clown is standing inside it! Oh yes, I laughed out loud to this. The first bull was let out of the gate and the rider did a great job and lasted his full eight seconds. Apparently, the point of bull riding isn't to see how long you last. You have to last the eight seconds in order to get a score and if you do, they judge you based on your form. Who knew!? The second bull came out with a fury. He knocked his rider off immediately and then came running after the clown in the barrel! The clown ducked down so fast and once he was hit, just rolled around until it was safe! Did I laugh? Oh yes. If I were him I would've peed my pants, though. Here's a video of the third bull who knocked the wind out of his rider after a few seconds.

We saw some barrel racing (the girl sport, apparently), steer tie down, team roping, bareback riding and so forth. Throughout the show, the rodeo clown provided the crowd with comedy acts. He dressed up as a fat rodeo queen and hit on other men, danced and flopped around. He was also dressed up as Nacogdoches Finest, the NPD, sporting a fake buttcrack and all. Oh yes, I was thoroughly entertained. [It doesn't take much, does it?]

I guess I'm officially a rodeo fan. I told Marshall we should just quit our jobs and travel with the rodeo. He didn't seem so keen on that idea...

Aren't we cute?

Beerleague + Softball - Beer = Today

I'm glad I don't get paid to blog. If I did, I'd probably be living in a cardboard box because I slack way too much. Although, if I did get paid, maybe that would be more motivation to write. Does anyone want to pay me? No? That's a shame.

While talking to one of my co-workers, who just so happens to be a blogging enthusiast, she mentioned that my blog shouldn't be focused on one topic [the wedding] if I wanted to continue blogging. Since we haven't done too many things with the wedding planning, it's hard to write on a blog entitled "Wedding Belles." So regardless of my blog being called Wedding Belles, I'm going to start blogging about other things as well. Sound good? Good. And if it doesn't? Well, stop reading.

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Marshall somehow convinced me to join a beer league softball team with our paper and sister paper. [Minus the beer since we gave up alcohol for Lent so it's just a league] I haven't played softball since I was 8 and played for the LUYAA [Linganore Urbana Youth Athletic Association, represent!] teams. Considering it's a mere 15 years later, I've seem to have lost some of my mad skills. While my throwing arm may have been pretty badass when I was 8, it hasn't improved and is therefore not-so-badass-and-actually-pretty-pathetic. Want me to hit a homerun? HA. I had forgotten how painful the vibrations of the bat can be if you don't hit the sweet spot. Needless to say, the only cheer my teammates will be saying is the "We want a single, just a little single, S-I-N-G-L-E single, single, single!" and will not progress through doubles, triples and the homerun.

[And I just know that if my family is reading this post, which they better be, that they just sang the tune to that cheer and it is now probably stuck in their heads. You're welcome]

Our first game is tonight. Our second game is also tonight. Yup, two games, one night. The first one is at 7:15 and the second at 9:15 with each game being an hour long. Did I mention that the fields are 30 minutes away from our house and that I very much like to sleep and that my bedtime is 10? No bueno!

If our games don't get rained out [looks as if the rain has finally stopped but we're just waiting to see if the fields dry out] please pray that I at least hit the ball and don't strike out. And that I don't get smacked in the face with a ball. And that the ball doesn't really come in my direction so I can't mess up while in the outfield. And that I run fast and don't trip.

Maybe I'll miraculously get my 8-year-old-mad-skills back and be the MVP.

Yeah, I laughed at that too.