A Quick Stroll

Ten years ago this summer, my daughter was leaving it all on the field for her travel team and college coaches.  It was the best of times and the worst of times.  We’re coming up on the anniversary of one of the unhappy tournaments.

 

Clare had two travel coaches that summer who were jerks.  One said she was bad defensively, and the other told her she’d never hit college pitching.  They didn’t say a whole lot the tournament she hit five homeruns with 12 RBIs.  If only a D-I college coach had shown up to watch.

 

Oh, one of them said she’d come to a tournament, and two others wanted to see her schedule, but they were all no-shows; this is how recruiting works for all but the most-anointed ones.  If you’re really pretty good, coaches will string you along.  If they can get someone better, it’s “Clare who?”  If not, it’s “Hi, Can I speak to Clare, please?”  I sometimes wonder how Clare got through it, and, now, suddenly, ten years have passed.

Other coaches we didn’t know about saw our daughter play and contacted us after nationals that July.  She called one of the coaches back, and that changed everything.  Clare is sightseeing today at Lake Como in Italy with her husband, someone she met in college.

 

One phone call and everything in a life changed, almost ten years ago.  It seems like yesterday.