STRIIIIIKE THREE!

Yes, those were the words coursing through my mind during FHE on Monday.  As an athletic girl, this was a very humbling evening, and probably good for my pride in humbling me to be much more thankful for the gifts God has blessed me with, particularly a knack for sports.

Our ward decided to do a tee-ball tournament for our FHE activity.  I was excited, and even felt good warming up to Kelson batting some line drivers to me in the in-field.  I threw them back with ease, and felt very confident and comfortable that I would have no problems at bat--especially when the ball would be just sitting for me to hit there on the tee.

Our team had plenty of girls who had played softball before, and they made things look super easy.  While not getting a chance to bat during the first inning, I was the first up for our second inning.  I placed the ball on the tee, wound up, and--SLAM!--knocked over the tee and heard the ball drop to the ground with a chorus of "hey, batter batter batter!" from the opposite team in the background.  I know that most of these people know that I'm athletic, so I'm sure they were enjoying this little mess up by me.   

I lined up a second time, swung with all my might and--BAM!!--the top half of the tee went flying into the infield while my ball dropped once again to the ground.  Now I was feeling pressure.  I got the ball on the tee again, took another whack, fully expecting my ball to go flying out into the outfield.  Nothing.  I was defeated and deflated.  

I figured since it was strike three, my turn was over, but no, I was to keep this publicly humiliating feat going with the instructions from the ump, a member of our Bishopric.  It took me two more swings before I finally hit, and when I did, I still hit under the ball and managed to send it flying up in the air.  At least I got a base hit, with a little help from my speed, which helped to dig me out the my deep whole of humiliation. 

I keep hitting under the ball, and I can only think that I had a tendency to do this in large part from my tennis training and in small part from my golf experiences.  Who knew that hitting a ball off a tee could be that difficult?  Those little five-year-olds who play the sport have just earned a ginormous amount of respect and admiration from this fan.

All I can say is that you never know when you'll be humbled.  Remember to be grateful for EVERYTHING you find yourself super capable of doing--you never know when you'll find yourself struggling to hit a ball that's a sitting duck.