The Story Series: Part Three: Throw Like a Girl

Today, the story I'm about to tell you is one that I always reflect back on when I need a reminder that I can and am worthy of keeping up. There's a quote that caught my attention in the movie, A Cinderella Story (of course I watched that movie. I was obsessed with Hilary Duff for nearly all of my elementary years!). The great Babe Ruth once said, "Never let the fear of striking out keep you from playing the game."

I was nine years old and playing with the boys on the Expos. Yup, you heard it; the Montreal Expos... In Issaquah Little League and yup, with the guys. At this time, I was playing pitcher, catcher and second base and was one of two girls that were still playing baseball, not softball in Issaquah. Being nine and it being my fifth year in boy's baseball, I can assure you I had already been scrutinized for still playing, but those I was teammates with supported me through and through.

I still remember some issues that always arose when it came to again signing up in the spring. "Why doesn't she have to wear a cup?" or "She can't play with the boys! She's a girl!" My favorite was always, "It's an unfair advantage! No boy will be able to tag her in some spots!" Uhh... Okay.

It came down to an early Saturday morning doubleheader against the Blue Jays. We had never faced this team before. It was always the best to watch all the parents, let alone the opposing boys watch me take the mound. Talk about snickers and laughter. "Oh hey! Look! A giirrrrrlllll is pitching! Hahahahahha!" Yeah. There was laughter until they stepped in the batter's box, then I was the one laughing as was my team. I always pitched half my hardest when I was warming up just to make it seem like I really was a "sissy girl".

Now you have to take into account that by the time I was nine, I was towering over the boys by six inches to a foot. If anything was an unfair advantage, it was my height compared to the boys. At one of my pitching lessons that year, I clocked 59 mph (by my 15th birthday, I clocked 83 mph; my fastest I will have ever thrown). Throwing near 60 mph and with the mound being 46 ft away from home plate, it makes for a pretty intimidating image.

I took the mound in the bottom of the first and retired the side all with strikeouts. It got to the point where I had come into the bottom of the fifth with a no-hitter on my hands. The third batter in the Blue Jay lineup was their second baseman, the kid that had told me to go play with barbies and get off the field when I had hit a double in the second inning. Well, this kid had it coming from me. By the bottom of the sixth and two outs with the final chance for the Jays to come back, it was torrential downpour. The snaggletoothed bully just so happened to be the one to step into the batter's box with a cocky kid grin on his face. My first pitch was a high inside fastball my catcher called for; push him off the plate. I threw my hardest and heard the ball hit the mitt with a loud smack. "Striiiikkkkeeee!" (That was always the best when the umpire got into the game.)

My catcher signed for a change up, low and inside. "Strike twooooo!"
As I watched the boy give a reassuring look to his third base coach, I knew what I was going to do; give him a full count. Yeah... I was a cocky nine year old girl, but hell, I was able to because I had the confidence in my abilities (something I think goes away the older you get in some aspects).

The count was 2-3. The sopping wet parents and both teams were in uproar at this point and I remember feeling like we were in the 2000 World Series. Time seemed to slow and my focus was on the catcher's glove. Fastball. I wound up and let that ball rotate off my fingertips. The bully kid loads his bat and begins his swing...

Whiff. Strike three.

The kid began to cry. Not just a little sniffle or whine; full out cry. My team all gave a quick glance at him and then looked back at me and gave big grins.

I will never forget making that kid cry. One because he was a heckler and two, because he so deserved it.

Taking a chance is a part of life. You have to take your consequences and run with them full speed. I'm glad I was cocky on the mound when I was nine.

Below is the picture of Connie Morgan taken in 1955. She was recruited at age 19 and was the third of 3 women in the Negro Baseball League.  Connie played for the Indianapolis Clowns 1954-1955 and the North Philadelphia Honey Drippers, an all female team. Morgan had a career batting average of .368, ironically the record is held by Ty Cobb at .366.

To read more about Morgan:
http://www.coe.ksu.edu/nlbemuseum/history/players/morgan.html