Second Base

We were playing on a beaten-up field just beyond 395 in Washington, DC. The basepaths were almost non-existent and every grounder had the potential to soar over a baseman’s head if it hit just the right pothole. The gnats zig-zagged through the air on that late summer evening, but none of us seemed to notice because there was business to be done.

As I guarded the runner on first in my peripheral vision, I looked over at our shortstop and third baseman. After three years of playing rec league softball, I had finally earned their trust. Though these guys had hearts of gold, they were not quick to believe that girls could be just as tough on the diamond as they were. But by playing the basics and then going that extra mile, I had finally proven myself worthy to be the recipient of their hardest throws.

As the next batter strode to the plate, I knew I would have to be vigilant for the double-play ball. When a chopper bounced through a gap in the infield, I rushed to the bag and readied myself. The runner raced towards me as I thrust out my glove hand toward my teammate. The throw was off-target, but I knew I could just about reach it while keeping my heel on the bag. Never one to back down during a softball game, I ignored the guy who had a good 60 pounds on me and focused on the ball. Both reached me at the same moment, but there was a tangle of arms and legs as he slid. I felt my body go off balance and there was nowhere else to break my fall. Without meaning to, I fell right on top of him. I was annoyed that I had fallen, but my main thought was that I had gotten him out. However, no one else agreed. Furious, I scrambled up and resumed my position.

Then from the sidelines, I heard it.

“Hey, Mike… you got to second base both ways!”

Baseball has long been used as an analogy in the world of dates and hook-ups, but just the other day I heard about what could possibly be the best use of the basepath metaphors. A friend told me about “Save 2nd Base,” an organization formed to raise awareness for and to combat breast cancer. The idea came from Kelly Rooney, a mother with breast cancer who didn’t lose her sense of humor even when it seemed there was so much else to lose. The t-shirt she designed became a rallying cry for her friends, family, and supporters, and though she lost her battle with cancer, her message and her humor carries on, inspiring millions of others in the fight.

My loyal readers have heard me rail against the evils of pink in the sports world, but this is the strongest exception I could ever imagine and I’d be proud to wear this pink baseball shirt anywhere.

If you’d like to find out more, visit Save 2nd Base.

After all, everyone wants to save 2nd base.