On One Knee

I have dozens of marks on my body. Some, like my ‘bruise’ birthmark and freckles, are natural. Others, like my crinkle lines around my eyes and the sun spot on my cheek, are the natural result of aging.

Sometimes body markings are intentional. My tattoos, for instance.

But while tattoos are “the scars we choose” (to quote Jennifer Nettles) – and can be quite memorable in the making – there are also other scars we incur, simply through the act of living.

The most memorable of my ‘living’ scars is the one I acquired the day I got down on one knee.

No, not to propose. 😉

But I definitely got down on my knee.

Twice.

And I scored a homerun.

In my early teens, I played JV* softball.

In the summer between my freshman and sophomore year in high school, I played on a community league.

Picture:

• approximately 15 teenage girls with nothing in common except the love of softball and the team shirts they are wearing,
• sweating all over the field on a hot, humid July evening, when…
• in the fourth inning,
• teenage Feve gets up to bat

.

Here comes the pitch…

Swing…

CRACK!

.

It was neither a line drive nor a pop fly — the hit was high enough to go over the second baseman’s head but close enough in that when the center fielder ran forward to catch it, they couldn’t get there in time — which, in addition to bunting, was my specialty hit while at bat, and I made it to first base on a flat sprint.

I rounded toward second, backtracked — the center fielder had the ball now and was throwing it to first — tapped my foot back on first base and then…

FUMBLE!

The first baseman MISSED!

I rounded off again, sprinting hard toward second, hearing my coach yell “Go Go GO!” then “GET DOWN!” and here comes the ball, whizzing over my head as I go down — left leg under me, right leg extended toward second base — into a slide.

SAFE!

And… What.the.HELL?!

The second baseman had MISSED THE BALL!

I got up, laughing at the ridiculousness of it all (how on earth did we end up playing against the Keystone Cops?), and pushed off into another sprint toward third…

Rounded…

My coach was yelling, “Go Go GO!” so GO, I went…

Thinking: Shit shit shit the short stop has the ball now and she can actually throw, I have to MOVE!

…when the ball once again came whizzing just over my head…

“Get down! Get down!”

Coach was barking, I swear.

And my team was laugh-cheering as I went down on the same knee — bleeding now, pants ripped open from the first slide and leg already scraped — ripping the skin open anew and sliding into home, _just_ before the catcher caught the ball and tagged me.

SAFE!

So what if it was in the park?

I got a homerun!

*laugh*

And as a memento – one I will always carry with me – I have a glorious shiny-white scar on my left knee.

😀

written for the Reminiscences prompt: RUN

To learn more about the project, or to participate yourself, please click the badge or the prompt link above.

*For my readers who live outside the U.S. or who may otherwise not know the lingo — JV stands for Junior Varsity, and is the pre-varsity sports age group encompassing mostly freshman and sophomores in high school (ages 14-15).