Softball was my first love.
Even though I wound up being a serious basketball player in high school and college, I remember getting my first glove when I was six and bursting into tears. I slept with it in my bed for a year. My Dad hung a tire between two trees in our backyard and I spent entire summers pitching into it: the rubber was the strike zone, straight through was a strike. We went to so many games together, and there was always one rule: you never leave a ballgame early.
You never know what could happen.
I just got back from covering the NCAA Women's College World Series in Oklahoma City for the first time. I watched eight games in four days. Walk-offs, shutouts, record-breaking swings, heartbreak, instant classics - the tournament had everything. Take Sunday’s doubleheader: Nebraska's Jordy Frahm had a no-hitter going into the bottom of the 6th. I'm up in the press box researching past no-hitters when Texas’ Katie Stewart unloads a three-run bomb and Texas wins 3-1.
Then the nightcap: my UCLA Bruins were down 6-3 to Texas Tech in the bottom of the 7th. People were filing out of the stadium.
I had the same thought for half a second. Maybe I should leave and beat the traffic because it’s going to hurt to see them lose. Then I heard my Dad.
At that moment, UCLA gets magic from two pinch hitters and then Jordan Woolery steps up to the plate, blasts a homer and ties the game. If there was a roof on that stadium, it would've been blown off. And even though UCLA wound up losing the game, I was exactly where I was supposed to be.
That's the thing about this game. It can turn on a dime. And so did my experience of watching it. I'd spend half the game in the press box, great for the stats and the much-needed AC. Then I'd walk into the stands the energy was electric. Families losing their minds, people in t-shirts from teams that didn't even make it to the World Series, just there to see the level of play, just there to feel it.
Seeing these young women live out their dreams on that field, well, I didn’t want to leave.
We lost my Dad six years ago, almost to the day I landed in OKC. And I couldn't stop thinking he was right there next to me saying the same thing he always said.
You never leave a ballgame early. You never know what could happen.
