like you’re in a movie.
I coached softball during my time teaching high school history. It was very rewarding. I think girls are easier to coach than boys for this reason… they listen, then they try to follow the coach’s instructions… in practice sessions and in games. My own daughter, when she was a teenager, would listen, then do things her own way. I think I know why. I was her dad not her coach. Go figure. I saw girls on our softball team use the things they learned in practice sessions so they could succeed in games. Maybe they didn’t realize it, but they were setting goals for themselves and putting together an action plan to achieve those goals. They learned there is truth to the adage… you play the way your practice.
Our star pitcher was a quiet, yet confident athlete named Alison. She was left handed but pitched with her right hand. That’s how she learned when she was younger. Her primary pitching coach was right handed, and it was easier for him to teach her how to pitch as a righty. It worked out… she was a great pitcher. I’m guessing it’s partially because the pitching technique she learned very early was not her natural throwing motion. After literally thousands and thousands of pitches, she mastered the technique of pitching with her right hand. That was good for us.
Alison could pitch with her right arm but her regular overhand throwing motion with her right arm did not look natural. You can try an experiment that will demonstrate why her pitching motion looked a lot like someone whipping or slinging the ball instead of throwing a conventional looking pitch. Pick up a ball with your dominant hand. Wind up any way you like and pitch the ball as fast as you can at a target. Now, switch hands and try to duplicate the pitching motion used when pitching with your dominant hand. The second pitch will not be as fast or accurate. Ali had trained herself to pitch with her non-dominant hand, and she was astonishing on the mound. However, her throwing motion with her non-dominant or right hand while fielding a ground ball was not always accurate particularly if she rushed her throw. In games, whenever she fielded a ball hit straight back to the mound, a chorus of “Slow Down!” would rise from the coaches in our dugout. That seemed to improve her accuracy when she threw the ball to first base.
During an away game, Ali fielded a bunt. She rushed to the ball, picked it up cleanly, and popped up ready to throw to first base. Here comes that whip! Her teammate playing first base saw Ali’s arm cock back. The teammate’s eyes widened… she knew what was coming… an extremely fast and possibly wild throw. What did she do? She ducked sideways as Ali released a hurried throw. The ball struck another fielder moving to back up the play at first base squarely between the eyes and above the bridge of the fielder’s nose. That had to hurt… a lot. Play stopped by both teams even before the ump called for time out. That’s the way it is sometimes in softball. The girls care more about each other than the score. Fortunately, she was OK… stunned and a little teary but OK. She implored us not to call her mother. Mom was not a fan of her daughter playing a sport that could lead to injury. We called her dad. No one was more upset about the direct hit than Alison. The injured player took a week off. She was more embarrassed walking around campus with two black eyes than failing to catch Ali’s throw.
In the fall of the next school year, during the off season for softball, the school held a carnival-themed fundraiser. All kinds of fun stuff for students, especially the younger kids. The fun stuff included games of chance and games of skill.
One of the most popular attractions was the dunk tank. It featured a teacher or other school staff member known to students sitting on a platform above a large, clear Plexiglas tank of water. The student would trade script for a chance to throw a softball at a metal disk on the side of the tank. Striking the disk would set off a series of levers causing the platform to collapse and deposit the teacher or staff member sitting on the platform into the chilly water. Watching a teacher flail about in the clear water tank was always a crowd pleaser.
I was working at the football-toss booth near the dunk tank when I noticed Alison just meandering through the carnival and enjoying the fun all around. She eyed the dunk tank. The varsity football head coach, Karriem, was on the platform. He was a bigger than life presence on campus. Our school was K-12 and Karriem taught PE to the younger kids during the school day. However, in the afternoons, he coached football and wrestling at our high school. The kids loved Karriem. He mentored students as they progressed from elementary school to young adulthood. Today, he was calling out high school kids he had known for years and daring them to try and dunk him. Lots of kids tried, but Karriem remained high and dry on the platform. He continued to challenge kids when he spotted Alison and he turned his attention to her.
I paused to watch what happened next. Alison picked up a softball and looked at the disk while trying to clear her thoughts as Karriem, in good fun, teased her. The target, a little smaller than a catcher’s glove, was about 30 feet away. She launched the softball at the disk with her regular overhand throwing motion. The ball missed the mark by a good 18 inches. Karriem’s banter seemed to work… another miss. Kids trying to dunk him were distracted by Karriem’s prattling from the platform. Alison turned to walk away.
I called out, “Ali! One more time. Give him one of these!” as I imitated her underhand pitching motion. Karriem heard me and he kicked into overdrive telling everyone within earshot that Alison will never… never… come close to dunking him.
Alison picked up another softball and walked over to the cone marking the distance between the tank and where she had to queue up to throw at the disk. She nudged the cone a little sideways so it would not impede her footwork during the second throw. It was reminiscent of her toeing the dirt on the mound just before rocketing a pitch toward home plate. I had seen that determined look on her face many times. She leaned in. Her eyes narrowed as she focused mind and body on the disk. Ali was back somewhere she had been before… maybe on the mound with a one run lead and two outs in the bottom frame while facing a batter with two strikes. The next pitch would decide the outcome of the game playing in her head.
Alison goes into her windup and fires a laser at the disk which is suspended over an imaginary home plate in her mind’s eye. Smack! The ball struck the disk dead center, the platform collapsed, and Karriem went into the water. He pops up spitting water and calls out, “You couldn’t do it again!” Ali walked away with smile that said, “Yeah, I could. I could do this all day.”
It was like being in a movie.
Copyright © 2025 by Ray Fowler
