Sports Memory

Sports Memory
By Anne Halas


In my family, sports are our favorite past time. Family holidays revolve around what time the game is on; dinner at half time and desert post game. All 35 members of the family huddles around the television at my grandparents house with their plates full of turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, and large glasses of milk to watch the thanksgiving or Christmas day games.

Easter Sunday is different. While the younger cousins and siblings hunt for eggs in the garden, the “big kids” get ready for the annual game of home run derby in the back yard. (To be considered a “big kid” you have to be a teenager) Every year my grandfather gets a new wiffle ball bat and ball. We crudely cork the bat with wet newspaper and paper towels, take some practice swings, and get started. The batting order is oldest to youngest.

Everyone in my family is or has at one point been an athlete, an exceptional athlete; everyone except for me. PJ, the oldest played basketball at an ivy league school, Sarah was a standout out field hockey goalie through out high school and college, Patrick was an elite runner at a Big East School, Michael was a star wide receiver in high school and college, and Danny was a power forward in high school and college. Then there was me. I dabbled in all sports; gymnastics, basketball, track, softball, and field hockey. I was decent at all of them, but never really excelled.

My greatest sports memory was on Easter Sunday 1992. I was the youngest “big kid” and it was my first time participating in the home run derby extravaganza. I was small, scrawny, had braces, and really bad bangs; no one thought I had a chance. (My aunts and uncles placed wagers on who was going to win and how many runs each kid would score) The wager placed on me was that I was going to give up after two innings, go inside, and lay with the little kids. The game was seven rounds long. The first few were unpleasant, but I hung in there. By the fifth round, I was in third place, down by six runs. PJ was in the lead with 33, Pat was second with 31, and I had 27. I was so excited. All I could think about was the grand prize Easter basket that was filled with solid chocolate bunnies, Chicago bears paraphernalia, Cadbury cream eggs, and some random amount of money, it was usually like twelve dollars in Sacagawea coins. The final two rounds went my way. PJ, Sarah, and Pat struck out in both, Mike hit 2 home runs, and Dan only hit one. My last two at bats were outstanding. I am not sure if my uncle Paul was throwing me really easy pitches or if I was just that good, regardless I finished the game the victor. I hit 3 home runs in the sixth and seven in the seventh.

After the game, the family was shocked. My grandfather; however was elated. He had put his money on me. He must have seen the gleam in my eyes when I saw the grand prize. The giant bunny was delicious, the stomachache I suffered after eating it was worth it. If I had lost, the status quo would have remained. But I won, the scrawny newcomer with bad teeth and hair.

I went on to play sports in high school and college. I have yet to experience a victory like the on I did that day.