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Softball Poems and Quotes

Stuff maybe you didn't know
Softball Poems and Quotes

Softball MY life

>We don't wear cups, we win them
>If you don't play fast pitch, you don't play softball
>Softball is for everyone. Fast pitch is for athletes
>Playing fast pitch softball against me is as close to death as your gonna get
>You spend your life gripping a softball, then you realize it's been the other way around the whole time.
>A team is knowing when a ball is hit over your head, you have
enough faith in the girl behing you, not to turn around because you knoe shes got it
>Fresh cut grass. dragged dirt, ring of a bat, a diving catch, a blocked ball,  sweating, bleeding, diving into home. Not a bad way to spend a few hours.
>95% of softball is 100% mental.
>Strawberry's always hurt less when the umpire calls you safe.
>I make my weaknesses my strengths, and my strengths stronger.--Lisa Fernadez
>If you love that 3-2 pitch, that diving catch, the dirt in your hair, the face of your opponent and that slide into home that won the game, but also gave you one horrible bruise...then you're a true softball player.
>Pray as if everything depends on God; work as though everything depends on you.- Unknown
>Bruised, bloody, broken, All for this sport, I'll never hold back. I play it, live it and love it. Softball - my sport, my game, my life.
A Ball Players Prayer by Hal Skinner

God grant me the wisdom,
to tell a strike from a ball,
to know where to throw,
and never to fall.

Keep me always in the base line,
running straight and true,
and I'll look for your sign,
to stretch one into two.

God give me vision,
to see every pitch,
so if a player needs help,
then I will see which.

Let me always hustle,
so I'll be at my best,
and take pride in myself,
in sports and the rest.

God be my strength,
when I throw the ball,
when I'm far from home plate,
or against a wall.

So I never miss a base,
please guide my feet,
bring me home safely,
so my job is complete.

When I help younger players,
let me always give praise,
so they'll see you in me,
in all of my ways.

God please guide our coach,
to be fair and smart,
to teach us to be good,
let it come from his heart.

Let me take a loss,
just as well as a win,
to do any less,
is surely a sin.

As long as I can play,
let me make my parents proud,
as proud as I am,
when they yell my name out loud.

However my games end,
let me always have fun,
and if Heaven has All-Stars,
I want to be one.

When my games here are over,
and my seasons are done,
let me play on your team,
just like your son.


Then I Became a Softball Dad

I used to have a regular life. (Actually, many of my friends say that sentence should say, "I used to have a life", period.) It doesn't really seem that long ago. Then I became a Softball Dad.

My lawn used to be like a carpet. It was green, mowed, trimmed, fertilized, and watered. Any weeds that dared to show their leaves were pulled out by their roots. Now I have two big bare spots forty feet apart. I like the bare spots. I like them because they are the only places that the weeds and crab grass aren't threatening to take over.

My car used to draw admiring looks and comments. It was clean and waxed and shined and Armor All'd. Now it only draws attention when it wins the "dirtiest car in the parking lot" prize.

My friends and I used to spend Monday mornings talking about five-iron shots, three-putts, and titanium shafts. Now I bore them to death with detailed play-by-play descriptions of five or six low-scoring ball games. Somehow, they just don't understand the drama of a 2-0 game.

I used to think anything over $40 was an exorbitant price for a ball bat.
Now the contents of my daughter's equipment bag are worth more than everything else in the car together - including clothes, jewelry, watches, and laptop computer.

I used to have a great wife. Still do, Thank God. But that's a tribute to her patience and good humor. We used to sit and talk for hours. We still do - to keep each other awake when we're headed home in the wee hours of Monday morning.  We used to wonder what the kids would do when they grew up. Now she wants to know what I'm going to do IF I ever grow up.

My summer casual wardrobe used to be made up of color-coordinated polo shirts, cool cottons in bright colors, and the occasional "aloha" shirt.
Now I have a closet full of T-shirts in gray and red. Those that don't have COMETS on the front have a cute saying on the back, like "If You Follow Me Long Enough, You'll End Up at a Ball Field." or "Friends Don't Let Friends Play Slowpitch 

 I used to glue myself to the sofa and watch the NCAA basketball tournament and the Masters from opening Ceremony through network sign off. Now, I catch the highlights on Sportscenter. 

I used to be one of the tops in my field. Thank goodness, I still am.
(You have to keep a good paycheck coming in if you want to support a
Tournament Softball habit!) 

I used to have sympathy for umpires. I used to think boys were tough. I used to think a double-header was a long day at the ballfield. Now we're just getting warmed up. 

We used to spend our summer vacation relaxing on the beach or visiting family. Now we hit the road with 40 of our closest friends.

I used to think the ideal woman had brains and beauty. She still does,
but now she better also be quick, courageous, and able to bunt a good rise ball.

I used to look for little restaurants that served seafood fresh off the boat.
Now I'm a connoisseur of nachos and smoked sausages.

I used to be concerned that I would fall into the trap of living my life through my daughters. Now I know that I'm privileged to live my life
WITH my daughters.

At one time, she looked cute as a button, dressed in pink with ponytails
with visions of Alice in Wonderland. She played with dolls, helped mom
bake cookies, and has probably earned a few bucks baby-sitting. She has been,
and always will be daddy's little girl.

She still has all those little girl attributes. The only difference
is now she looks cute dressed in sliders and shorts. If she is wearing
ribbons in her hair, they are team colors. She still bakes cookies ... team bake sale.
And she has probably earned a few bucks ... at the team car wash. Now she is, and
always will be daddy's little second baseman (or insert position of choice).

She takes pride in how much dirt she can collect every weekend. Go to dinner
on a night that she is not playing and it takes an hour of primping to get ready,
and she still feels self-conscious. Go after a game and she'll walk right
into a restaurant with a streak of dirt across her forehead, ratted hair,
stained shirt and brownish/white socks. Or brown toes with sandals! Let's EAT!

She is ready and willing to play at the drop of a hat! If she can get away
with it, she will play on two teams. (In the same day no less) She has a huge
wardrobe: plenty of tournament shirts and shorts from all the teams she has
played on. Her parents do her school shopping every weekend at the
tournament T-shirt booth. When you say, "wear something nice", she
thinks it means a tournament shirt without dirt stains.

She needs to get an athletic scholarship. Her parents have spent $100,000
on camps, private instruction, batting cages, gloves, bats, equipment,
uniforms, player fees, concession stands, travel and lodging. THEY'RE BROKE!!!

She is a fierce competitor, willing to stand in against a fast pitcher at
close distance that even pro baseball players would have trouble hitting!
And she might be 5'2" and 100 lbs. soaking wet. She might play first or third base
at 20 feet from home plate, saying I dare you to bunt ... drive one down my throat!!!

She has more spirit than maybe any other team sport. At least it sounds that
way. Softball is the only sport where a girls ability to cheer sometimes
effects roster decisions. She can't bunt or hit, she is a liability in the
field ... but she cheers constantly!
She is playing the game for all
the right reasons! SHE LOVES IT! She could hang out at the mall, stay home and
watch TV, or spend her summers at the pool. Instead she has a tight schedule
with limited free time, hangs out on the practice field with a coach in
her face, and spends her summers getting baked on a 95 degree field with
no shade. Maybe we should get some of our kids checked for IQ? :)

She has her priorities in order: Tournaments, League Games, Team Practices,
schoolwork, individual practice and batting cage, family, private softball
instruction, church, conditioning, softball camps, boys. (Maybe church comes
before the batting cage.) At least on Sundays.

She is diligent and hardworking. She knows you get out of something, what you
put into it. She is not the type of kid to take the easy way out! She is
competitive, not willing to give up. She learns many valuable lesson
during the course of her softball career, like:

You can stay at Holiday INN for $12 bucks a night if you are willing to go 4 to a room.

Hotels don't monitor pool usage, and you can go swimming anytime, whether you are a registered guest or not.

Continental breakfast means: 3 bowls of cereal, bagel, 2 donuts and 4 glasses of OJ.

Unlike the geographically challenged, softball girls know how to get from home to every field in a 25 mile radius.

Last years sunflower seed that she found in the bottom of her bat bag aren't too bad if she washes them down with enough Gatorade.

Never wash your socks when you're on a winning streak!

Never wash your socks when you're on a hitting streak.

Never wash your socks after you've scored the winning run, scored any run, or were close to scoring a run.

Never trust a mother who says she won't wash your lucky socks.

She has a lot of fun every summer, enough to make her come back next year regardless of all the sacrifices,
the money, the occasional bad coach, the occasional injury, drinking water that people have put their hands in, etc.

But first and foremost, the Typical Girls Fast Pitch Softball Player is somebody's little girl!

WHHS Softball JV and V is going to kick tail this season!