It was the third batter of the inning before I noticed. That alone is remarkable, but nowhere near as remarkable as the young girl who I eventually noticed. I was watching my ten year-old granddaughter’s softball game. The catcher on the opposing team has a limb difference, leaving her with only her left hand fully functional. Incredibly, it took me three batters to notice, and I played college baseball.
She wore a baseball glove on her left hand. After catching a pitch, she tucked the glove under her right arm, took the ball in her left, threw it back to the pitcher, and slipped the glove back onto her hand as she returned to her crouch. It dawned on me that I’d simply thought she was left-handed.
That is amazing.
Here was a little girl brave enough to play competitive softball with one functioning arm. She didn’t play a position that hid her from action. She wasn’t interested in just being there.
She chose catcher.
When it was her turn at bat, she stepped up to the plate wielding the bat in one hand.
And she swung the bat.
And she hit the ball. A ground ball to the second baseman. It may as well have been a towering home run from my view. I was inspired watching her.
Everything about her said “ballplayer”. And that’s coming from an old ballplayer.
She chattered like a ballplayer.
She moved like a ballplayer.
She inspired a fellow ballplayer.
I started rooting for her. Not against my granddaughter’s team. I was rooting for her.
The world needs more people like her. We also need more moments like the one I had watching her. Moments when we can see the best of ourselves.
Courage.
Resilience.
Confidence.
Grit.
Last week wasn’t the first time I’d seen a one-handed baseball player. Jim Abbott pitched in the major leagues for ten years. Sixty feet six inches away from the best hitters on the planet. Less than two seconds to get his glove onto his hand in case the batter hit a 100 mph line drive back at his head.
Jim Abbott was not a novelty. He was a ballplayer. On September 4, 1993, he threw a no-hitter against the Cleveland Indians. No one on that Cleveland team saw a disabled pitcher. They only saw pitches they couldn’t hit.
I didn’t see a future major leaguer at the ten year-old softball game, but I saw someone remarkable. Someone who will do great things someday.
Like those Cleveland Indians, I didn’t see a disabled catcher last week.
I saw a ballplayer.