Outdoor Sports

Growing up, I watched my dad play baseball and at 7, I was plopped happily into a fast-pitch league (well, as fast as it can be for seven-year-olds.)

I played until I was 18 and did everything from house league to rep. I played with girls my age and teams older than me; I played for one team that made the newspaper for their 37-game win streak and for teams that didn't see a single win all season. I was an enthusiastic bench warmer most of the time. I loved every single game.

Truth is, I kind of suck at fast-pitch. In all honesty, I don't know why I was allowed to play on so many rep teams. The only thing I can think of is that my coaches said they liked that I was a) coachable and b) excited af to be there.

I would spend no less than nine hours a week practicing with my team, then another hour per week at a fast-pitch gym, an hour a day at the regular gym, and an hour every other day practicing with my dad or one of my teammates' dads. I had a binder full of fast-pitch plays and softball politics that my dad told me to read every day, including while at summer drama camp; I even remember being told, "School is a priority so you can get it out of the way and focus on fast-pitch."

And still, no amount of research or practice could make me as strong as the top nine players on my team. They were simply better, more athletic, more focused. On top of that, as much as I was doing, they were doing even more to hone their skill in their off time. Several of my teammates went on to play competitively as adults, one even playing for Team Canada and then for a team in the United States later on. These girls were as gifted as they were dead serious about the sport they loved.

My dad was the one to introduce me to baseball and fast-pitch. It was the passion behind my female coaches and teammates, though, who inspired me and provided me with life lessons I still carry to this day.

(A/N: The title of this piece was inspired by a female artist I also think is badass. The musician, Lights has inspired me since I was a pre-teen and her artistic work ethic inspires me now as an adult. Plus, it was a teammate who introduced me to Lights way back when we were kids. It felt appropriate to include this song here.)

1 - How to Dig Deep

Over ten years later, I still hear Coach Jen shouting as our team ran bases in the pouring rain, "Dig Deep!"

I can still picture another coach's wife, Tara, two months after delivering a baby, as she taught us how to slide into second base on an old tarp in the middle of a thunderstorm.

When I'm at my lowest or most exhausted, I think of my teammate crying before throwing every pitch under the lights of a sports dome in the winter, only to break province-wide records in her age group that summer.

I remember my mother, driving me hours to and from practices, ball games, and tournaments. I can still see her and her best friend, Debbie, another mom on the team, huddled in blankets on the 'May Two-Four Weekend;' I see them hunched over a binder in the cold as they keep score of their daughters' game. I remember them hugging us at the end, win or lose, either way. Every single time.

2 - Focus on the Game, Not the Glamour

Sometimes before a game, I would become overwhelmed with anxiety. As I got older, anxiety about the game became social anxiety surrounding my teammates.

The older we got and the more we played together, the higher the stakes became. Some girls were gunning for scholarships or spots on prestigious teams. Other girls were teenagers with no other outlet than the bat in their hands. Either way, the atmosphere at the games became tenser the further into our teens we grew.

When these moments of anxiety threatened to choke me altogether, it was important for me to remember all the reasons I loved fast-pitch. The truth was, none of those reasons included winning. I loved the components of the game - catching the ball, hitting it into outer space, the crack of a softball against an aluminum bat... I loved spending summer afternoons in the sun with friends and family... I loved the essence of the very game itself. Any glamourous medals were just a bonus.

That didn't mean I wasn't going to try my hardest each game. I owed it to my teammates to, and they, in turn, also tried their best. However, it helped me breathe a little to remember the reason I was on the diamond in the first place at all: love for the game and the girls I was playing alongside.

3 - Rest

Come tournament weekends, our coaches had some strict rules for us surrounding our downtime between games. All of these rules had one theme in common: rest.

Not only did ample rest improve our gameplay once it was time to focus, but rest was important for our health.

Being young, we just wanted to go, go, go. Every hour spent in a new city was primed to be packed with shopping, swimming pools, hot tubs, and sleepovers in hotel rooms. Our coaches knew better than us - yes, we might want to keep moving, but to keep us safe from ourselves, they insisted on slowing down.

We were encouraged to try and spend any downtime sleeping, stretching, icing, or eating. We'd go out to lunch or dinner as a team with our families after games to socialize and get some of the extra buzzy post-game energy off, then back to the hotel. From there, we might branch off into smaller groups to wind down. Fun was had, but it was still important to remember our bodies and health needed to come first, even when we wanted to convince ourselves it didn't.

4 - Community Is Everything

This applies not only to the team itself but to the community that encompasses it. Everyone from coaches, parents, siblings, friends, and extended family can contribute to a sports community. When I needed a ride to practice or a bite between games, any one of the coaches, parents, aunts, or uncles would be eager to help. My parents did the same, too. It was a combination of a little give, a little take, and a whole lot of love.

In saying that, the team you're playing with really does make a difference too.

As I mentioned before, I played with teams that won nearly every game they played and others that worked year-round barely to see a win all summer long. The truth is the team that was constantly winning started to develop a certain vicious edge over time.

Years went by and the sweet, pre-teens I had grown to know and love became high schoolers with new hormones, emotions, and dramas. There were tears of heartbreak and frustration in nearly every game, even the ones we won, and some of the girls eventually became violent. One even broke a back catcher's leg on the opposing team when she thought she was about to be tagged "out" at home plate. My teammate lifted her cleat ever so slightly, connecting with the other girl's shin, and snapped it.

Somehow, she thought she wouldn't get caught. She was thrown out of the rest of the tournament. Her behaviour later cost her a spot on a prominent team in the province when the coach she was trying out for overheard her cussing out another player.

This girl was the team bully but none of us knew how to stand up to her. Most people found a way to become her friend or stay out of her way when she was in a mood. I went to another team, instead.

The new team rarely won. But the girls also rarely cried, and never did they resort to violence or vicious tactics. For me, playing on a team with young women like that was worth way more than a lifetime's worth of wins.

At the same time I don't condone my past teammates' violence, I can understand it more as an adult. The girls who had the most extreme outbursts also had some of the most high-pressure home lives. Young and with so much pressure coming from all sides (plus the added layer of puberty and new social pressures with entering high school) I feel sad for these girls. I wish they had had a more supportive community off the diamond too or that being a teenage girl didn't feel so unbearable some days. I'm happy they had the sport to release their frustrations, but I wish they could have found a way to lean on us, their teammates, rather than lash out at us in their hard times.

I can't help but wonder if these girls would have felt less alone had they turned to the strong women surrounding them for guidance rather than be intimidated into loathing them.

5 - Always Say ‘Good Game’ No Matter What the Outcome

Losing can sting. It's hard to think of all the heart, soul, and energy we put into something only to see someone else come out on top. Despite that sting, it's important to shake hands at the end of the game and congratulate the other team on their win. They worked just as hard as we did.

A win could be the result of any (or many) factors. Sometimes it's hours of hard work. Sometimes it's the right combination of sleep and nutrition that day. Sometimes it's plain old skill and determination. Each of us has the parts for this winning combo though, therefore, each of us has a chance to win. Just not all at the same time.

A loss shouldn't feel like a setback. Even when it hurts, even when it feels unfair, it can help to take a step back and try to see what made it work for the other team. The next step is asking yourself, how important is winning? If it's important (and it is more than OK if it is - all of us like to win at least sometimes,) the next question to ask yourself is - what are they doing that I'm not? And not in a self-pitying way, but in a genuine way.

When we raise others up and take the time to appreciate the gift in others the way we hope others will appreciate the gift in us, we only get better. Not only that, but we make each other better along the way.

Besides, what was ever built by tearing another person down?

My years playing fast-pitch with an all-girls league were some of the best memories of my childhood. Playing fast-pitch surrounded by young women and girls, coaches, teammates, and family alike, there was no shortage of encouragement or life lessons. During these years, I got to bear witness to moments of strength, determination, passion, and community that have continued to stick with me to this day.

These lessons and the women who inspired them constantly remind me that life itself is an outdoor sport.

What kind of teammate do you value being?