It probably sounds like I am bragging every now and then but what I am saying is just a fact and a combination of excellent parenting (on my own parent's part) and I guess good genetics. Other than basketball, I was just naturally just the right size to excel at most sports. I am around 6 feet tall and naturally around 180-200 lbs (80 - 90 kg). Depending on what sport of focused on, I was able to lean down or bulk up rather rapidly as well. It's tough to imagine this now that I am older, but there was a time that I was incredibly dedicated to all aspects of excelling at a sport, including nutritional related things.
I was always one of the first selections for any team that I was involved in, and in several of the sports such as football of the soccer variety, football of the American variety, and swimming I was considered one of the best out there. In basketball I was considered really good, but because of my lack of height there was only so far I could go in that.
However, there was one sport that try as I may, I just couldn't become good at and that sport was baseball.
There are a number of reasons why I wasn't very good at this but one of the main ones is that I simply didn't have a good throwing arm. I was more of a catching guy or kicking guy. Although I haven't tried in quite some time, I would imagine that I still "throw like a girl" to this day but I am not going to try because that would be a truly stupid way to injure yourself by trying to prove something that doesn't matter at all.
I was put on the local baseball team circuit and this was one of those leagues where it didn't matter if you could play at all or not, it was a team where the coaches are obligated to play everyone, even if they suck - which I did.
It would be a while before I would become aware of this because I was too young to care or know, but these are the positions in the field ranked by their importance as far as a team play is concerned. I was in right field, which is where every coach puts all the useless players.
The reason for this is because most batters are right handed, and therefore based on physics that is the least likely place for a ball to end up. For the most part, I just stood out there and waited for my team to get 3 outs and head back to the dugout to go at bat.
I don't remember much of my time in baseball because it was a rather inconsequential time of my youth. We were too young to really be talking trash to one another and that sort of thing would be punished even in the 80's when bullying was kind of allowed (and I think is actually good for kids). I do know though, that even without being told, I was aware I was not a valuable part of the team because I excelled at everything else. I suppose that is why I wasn't bullied on the team. Well, that and the fact that even at 12 years old or so, I was substantially stronger and capable of fighting if necessary than the average other kid was.
Anyway, I expected to stand out there in right field just watching the game going on when one day - and this is the only day I remember it happening, a fly ball headed my way. I recall standing out there with my blue mitt (everyone else's was brown) and watching this thing slowly head my direction. As far as I know this was the first time such a ball had headed my way because as I mentioned before, in little league, the ball rarely gets hit out there. For the most part balls barely leave the infield because none of us were very good.
Well anyway, I don't think I was nervous, I sprung into action and I can still see the ball coming my way in slow motion. I would imagine that our coach expected me to fumble the ball but what he and perhaps my teammates didn't understand is that this guy, me, is actually VERY GOOD at catching stuff. However, due to the fact that I kind of realized I was the worst player on the team, I still recall looking into my glove after the ball come back to earth to make sure that the ball was actually there.
That's probably similar to what I looked like, only more stunned that I had actually done something correctly in this silly sport.
That was the final out of the inning and I recall returning to the dugout and being treated like a hero by the coach... almost like I had just scored the winning run of the game. I appreciate the fact that the coach would be so reassuring and motivational to a kid that had simply done what you are supposed to do on what was actually a very easy catch considering the caliber of play that was going on there.
My enthusiasm towards this moment would quickly wane though and it was through my parents' encouragement that this would be the final year that I would play baseball on any team. I am so fortunate to have parents that were as clever and knowledgeable as my own. While I was just fine with playing any and all sports, I think my parents were able to see the writing on the wall and realized that having me be involved in baseball at all was simply going to take away from my ability to excel at the other sports I was truly good at.
The following year they got me involved in swimming instead because both baseball and swimming took place in the summer where I lived at the time. Later I would go on to be one of the top 15 individual swimmers in the entire state, so I think that was a wise choice on their part.
I don't have a lot of memories of baseball, but that one play really stands out in my mind: I can still see the ball in my ratty blue glove to this day even though it was more than 30 years ago that it happened.