The Batting Cage

Every now & then I start to feel like I have a handle on life--like I know what I'm doing, am getting pretty good at it, have mastered the ups & downs. Whenever that illusion overtakes me this immediately cures me of it: trying something new. It's amazing how good we can get at our daily routines, & how stepping just the slightest bit out of our comfort zone blows that to pieces. It's like someone pulled a rug out from under you, & you are back to being an awkward, flailing, clueless beginner. It's very humbling.

I was reminded of this just recently. After talking to a friend about baseball practice & the approach of spring, I thought it would be fun & a great stress reliever to go to a batting cage & hit some balls. Never mind that I hadn't hit a baseball in 20 years; I've been working out like a maniac for the last several months, & was feeling positively jock-like. I went to the batting cage across the street from work, borrowed a helmet and aluminum bat, & went in cage 1. The slowest cage they have was 40-50 mph, which I'm sure is the baseball equivalent of the bunny slope (they go as high as 70mph). No worries.

Hitting a ball seemed easy when I was 10; but these balls kept flying by incredibly fast, & I kept swinging frantically at them and coming up with empty air. I started cursing badly & had to ask some kids at the side of the cage gaping at me to plug their ears. I hit my helmet with the bat more times than I hit the ball. I have never felt so uncoordinated in my LIFE. Really, it was more like swinging & flailing around wildly than hitting. Of 60 balls I managed to nick about 6, bunt 2, and only actually hit about 6. I think that's a batting average of around .01. Yikes!

Another thing--it turns out that when you haven't swung a bat in 20 years, swinging at 60 balls in a row is ALOT. My wrists, arms, shoulder, even my NECK were sore before I even got to the car: everything on the left side of my body from my waist up to my chin hurt. Oh yeah, now I remember--you're supposed to warm up first. Oops. And, turns out there is a good reason why ball players wear batting gloves. I realized this as soon as I hit my first ball w/an aluminum bat: OUCH. My hands stung like crazy, & after a few more were positively bruised. It took about a week before that went away.

After 60 balls I'd had enough, & gave up the cage. The perky little 10-year old boy who came in right after me beat the pants off me. He knocked the stuffing out of every pitch like a pint-sized Babe Ruth. To add insult to injury, he even made it look easy. I gave him my extra tokens, sat back & watched him hit one after another after another out of the park. It really was a thing of beauty. As I limped back to the car intending to apply an iced mocha frappucino to my bruised hand, I thought of something Yogi Berra said that I love: "You can't think and hit at the same time." At least I managed not to think for awhile. It's good to try something new every now & then.