The past four or five summers have been, in a word, orderly. Well, the baseball aspect anyway. April comes, the snow melts, the Jays' season starts, ball practice commences, school ends, and shortly therafter, whether in Orillia or North Bay, baseball season starts. While the timing of this progression wasn't necessarily etched in stone, it happened nonetheless.
For many reasons, this season has been, in a word, weird. April came, the snow melted, and the Jays' season started. Ball practice did not start, and school did not end. In fact, it was early-May before I had even thrown a baseball and even later before I swung a bat. I played one game late in May, and the season started for me at the end of June. I was actuely aware of this fact throughout the whole weird process and am still aware of it now.
That first game was a killer. Three ground balls in three at bats .. playing somewhere other than the outfield for the first time in two years .. hitting clean up .. yes, clean up .. it was the most uncomfortable I've felt in a baseball game since that first game playing for the Choppers years ago. Everyone seemed to be in mid-season form while I was still trying to get rid of the winter rust.
The next two games weren't quite as bad. I moved back to the outfield, got in some batting practice and felt a bit better about my swing, got on base a few times while hitting out of the bottom of the order. I was finally, in early July, starting to settle back into playing my game. I even managed to maintain my streak of consecutive run-downs without getting out, extending it to four.
Three games in, life presented me with an opportunity that I couldn't pass up, leading to a move to another town and another team. Even though it was the same team I'd played for the past two seasons, I didn't feel quite right, and even after two games back with them, I still don't feel quite right. Whether it's moving to a new team in the middle of the season or the fact that I haven't quite felt all there in the first place, I don't really know.
It's hard to say with July half over if this feeling is going to pass. Even after tonight's game where I hit in my familiar leadoff spot, got on base three of four times and made some decent plays in the outfield (but missed my chance to make the highlight reel), I still feel like I'm out of my element. And even though I don't think about it as I'm playing, it weighs on me.
We gave up a home run last night. It was a catchable ball that cleared the seven foot fence by six inches or less. If I were in my regular July form, I am certain I would have caught it. I wouldn't have given up on it, I would have taken that one step I needed, jumped and taken it away. Even though we won the game and it didn't cost us anything, I still feel like I should have, and would have, made that catch. I've played that over and over and over in my head, and everytime I think about it, I come to the same conclusion. I was on the right line. I could see it was carrying and got to the spot I needed to be at. I knew where the fence was. All I had to do was take one more step and leap and I would have had it.
But I didn't. I bailed. And I knew it right away. Smacking my glove against the fence and yelling obscenities right after it went over the fence had nothing to do with the ball going over the fence, it was that it was a ball that should have been caught.
I probably shouldn't be so hard on myself. Those runs didn't cost us the game, so in the end does it really matter? I guess not. I still should have caught it though.
-matt
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