New Job (Letter from April)

Here’s a letter I sent to my high school English teacher about the first couple days of my internship.

For the sake of keeping his identity private, from BOTH my followers, (I rounded up) haha, I’ll leave his name out.)    *Although I know some of you crazies are thinking it’s Voldemort or something

I've been meaning to write since I got this new gig, but I'm sure you know how it is- when you come home from scribbling/writing/calling people all day, the last thing you want to do is see your laptop again. So this is me, pushing through the wall.

Anyway, I actually got hired April 1st, but with all the drug tests, paper work, and waiting for the intern program to actually put me in their database, I actually started last week. I've been SWAMPED every minute since. And not in the coffee-runner, "Here, file this" way I assumed I would spend the majority of my internship. I'm not even calling it an internship anymore. I've been thrown in the deep end. 

From the minute I set foot in the door, I've been writing press releases for local community events like Global Youth Service Day, Race Unity rallies, etc., media advisories for public hearings, the works. 

*~* Oh, and let it be known! For my first two days, I didn’t have a computer! Thank God I brought my laptop, but even then I couldn’t break the county’s firewall on their wireless and had to fact-check and research source titles and mission statements of organizations FROM MY PHONE. And keep in mind, my father works in the IT sector, aka the people who are responsible for setting up my username/password. The second day I was fed up. By 10:30 my phone was almost dead so I called my dad.

Me: Have you gotten a chance to set up my county profile yet? I’m drowning over here.
Dad: You realized you called the Director, right?
Me: So?
Dad: So you should call the help desk for that.
(Leave it to my veteran dad to follow the chain of command even in the microscopic scheme of installing software)
Me: What? What’s the point of having contacts if I can’t use them? Besides, I’ve always been a go-straight-to-the-top-for-results kinda girl….……..Dad? Hello??

Later that day, I met him at his office for lunch. I told him I wanted to wash my hands first and he said I could use his office bathroom. I replied “Oh, no, Dad, I WOULDN’T DAAAAARRRREE give any impression of nepotism,” and used the one in the building. (He paid for lunch).

In addition, I’m pretty confident I’ve gotten my first work crisis out of the way too. On my first day, my boss introduced me to the personnel I’d be in touch with for my regular assignments on the monthly departmental profile updates. I was shaking hands with the main boss when his secretary came in, relaying a call she got about a 75 year old woman calling on behalf of her mother, turning 100 next month and wanting to know “What we could do about it.” Wow. The Big Boss looks at my boss, who immediately turns to me and says “You got this?” --“Uh…sure.”  Turns I have to write a proclamation. HAVE YOU EVER HAD TO WRITE ONE OF THOSE? The whole “Here ye, Here ye… whereas _, whereas _, therefore I hereby declare April 15^th, Old-Lady-turns 100 day. Seriously? I have 600 high schoolers putting on a rally to fight racism tomorrow and your personal secretary can’t fill out a template? Talk about politics.

 I really can’t even get into that fiasco cuz it already took ten yrs off my life, but basically, I had to call the lady’s daughter and ask her to describe her mother. She couldn’t do it. The first time I called, she began to read a 6 page biographical sketch she had prepared. I kept saying “Ma’am, you have me confused with the newspaper. I’m writing an official document. I just need you to describe her role in the community, not that she made her own lye soap way back when.” The lady would only reply “I’m getting to it.” After twenty minutes, she finally had someone on the other line and said I’d have to try again later. The second time I called I “caught her off guard” so she had to call me back when she thought of something to say…I spent the entire day scared to go out for lunch because I was waiting for three lousy adjectives to put in this template. She calls me back half an hour before I leave for my second job–with a friend on speakerphone to, as she said, speak more articularly for her . She said she still couldn’t think of any personality traits, and if I could give her choices, she would tell me “if that sound like Ma or no.” Yikes. Putting words in people’s mouths? Talk about a journalist judgment call. Needless to say, I single-handedly wrote the vaguest proclamation in the history of the world. Pretty much looked like this: “Whereas, this lady has two eyes and a nose, has inhaled and exhaled for approximately 100 years and has an alleged daughter, I hereby declare Happy Birthday.”

Today, three days after we printed the proclamation, she called my office to get the local news channels #s because she wants them to cover it as well. “What I’m really tryin to do is get Obama cuz I heard he came to Monroe,” she said. Hanging my head, I replied “I’m sorry ma’am, President Obama is not in our Georgia News Directory. “

-It’s flattering, but no, my small office does not have a direct connection to that shiny, red phone in the Oval Office.

Ok, more on the actual newsworthy stuff.

Saturday I covered the Marquis Grissom Baseball Association opening day. I got to meet the man who caught the last out of the 1995 World Series. He’s shorter than I could have ever imagined, but very down to earth and kind. Anyway, after that successful release, and with my athletic/Illinois blog background they've chosen me to write the sports segment too (which I can't blame them, seeing as how the TV anchor intern is non-sportsy to say the least...during the staff meeting yesterday he was more preoccupied with his idol Katie Couric leaving CBS than the Braves sweeping the Giants, so I gladly accepted the assignment). But you’ll never hear me complain about him! He’s awesome and has the best femme fatale music- including the new Britney Spears CD downloaded on his computer to blare in between phone calls. He’s no Jim Halpert, but he ALWAYS has mints, so what more can a girl ask in an office mate?

FINAL Out of Left Field: Illinois Softball Blog #11 (Postseason)

“Flight 563 departing for Atlanta is now boarding Zone 4…”

I’m sitting on the airplane next to this smiley businessman (probably reading over my shoulder as I type) who insists on making small talk. He’s probably wondering why I have such an extreme sunglasses tan or why a college kid flying home for the summer would seem so morose- how do I even begin to explain to this complete stranger what I’ve endured the past 3 days?

DEPAUL (ROUND ONE)
The game went rather quickly. We knew we had a great chance to take the tournament, but before we could think about facing the reigning champs No. 9 Mizzou, we had to focus on one tiny chore: beating the team we had yet to defeat my whole career at Illinois. Especially after losing to them in the latter part of our regular season with –let’s face it-one of our sloppiest outings of the year- we were ready to avenge ourselves. Besides, everyone understood that we could not put ourselves in a position to win the tournament without grabbing the first one. I think it gave us a little perspective and helped us think less on the rivalry and more about advancing to super-regionals. After the game, the celebration was short lived- we knew we hadn’t seen the last of the Blue Demons and we had to focus on Mizzou.

MIZZOU (ROUND ONE)
I think our first face off against Mizzou was a lot like our first meeting with DePaul this year. We made the opposing team the challenge instead of the game. As a result, we weren’t winning innings and couldn’t put enough runs up as we normally do. But once it was over, we didn’t exactly have time to pout; we were scheduled to play DePaul in two hours and knew it’d either be us or them going home. Nothing like a game at gunpoint to give you a short-term memory.

DEPAUL (ROUND TWO)
The loser’s bracket is simple- kill or be killed. At this point, everyone has scouted and is well aware of each team’s strengths and weaknesses. So as a hitter- whatever your worst pitch is, expect it. Over. And over. And over. What’s more, the opposing defense also adjusts to your offensive tendencies; to counter this, the hitters must adjust to the pitcher. This info is not to hype up how hard it is to succeed in post-season, but just to illustrate the paradox of the game. It’s all about who can multitask the best- making hundreds of small adjustments while simultaneously not straying from your own style of play.

During the break between games, the team agreed that if we played tentative or tried to be tricky again, we would undoubtedly go home. Our team isn’t sneaky- the only way we know how to win is to HIT and HIT and HIT; trying to win any other way was just a recipe for disaster. Might as well take the risk of trusting ourselves despite everyone else’s scouting reports on us and play the way we know how.
The DePaul game was just one big blur. We had to win it and of course, took each inning seriously, but it was a mere stepping stone onto our real goal of getting a second shot at the Tigers. 9-1 later, we were in the championship series.

MIZZOU (PART TWO)
Our execution could have been better, especially on offense. We didn’t have half of the base runners we normally do, and our defense- which has always thrived off of our offense- only added to our frustration.

However, in true Illini fashion, weren’t going down without a fight and sparked in the bottom of the 7th. Jackie got a base hit and brought the tying run to the plate with two outs. In the huddle, Coach told Z to drive the ball in the dirt at short stop as hard as she could and that the combination of Z’s speed and pressure on the defense would guarantee us a run.

Z did EXACTLY what Coach told her to; she executed it perfectly. As Z dove head first into the base, our season hung in the balance. I held my breath for the throw.

“Oh my God, she’s safe! She did it!” I thought. I ran to grab her bat out of the box when I saw the first base umpire start her slow-motion run and throw back her arm to signal ‘out.’

--It was like taking a bullet. My heart broke- not for my season, but for this fearless junior, who will probably never fully comprehend how brave she was to even stay composed in that situation, let alone succeed.

After the game, we went to Mizzou’s visitor locker room to shower before the drive home; some parents of Mizzou were there waiting for their daughters and agreed that Z was in fact safe. They continued to express their relief because they too, knew we would have taken that opportunity to bust the inning open. Even right now, I’m speechless. Whoever says umpires don’t lose games didn’t have to look into Z’s eyes.

Now, Z, because I KNOW you, I know that moment will haunt you. But know this: not only would I have put the fate of our team in your hands again, but I have no doubt that moment will be the driving force for a dominant 2011 season. And while only one team actually ends their season satisfied, you have to admit-sometimes ‘the beauty is in the attempt.’

To the rest of my beloved teammates- I know this loss stings, but trust me; just like all previous Illini losses have, this defeat will raise the bar and propel the program into great things. Our goal last year was to make post season; this year’s goal was not to be satisfied with a post-season appearance, but actually compete for the title; next year’s obviously will be to take it all- and I’ll be cheering front and center when you do.

As I stepped off the airplane in Atlanta, I felt like “Moonlight” Graham in Field of Dreams- stepping over the chalk, morphing from ball player to civilian. I won’t have to wake up early to lift tomorrow. There won’t be a “Hello Future Big Ten Champions!” letter from Coach in my mailbox this summer. And in three months, I’ll be hearing walk-out songs from behind the dugout instead…So this is what it feels, like, huh?

In closing, I’d like to leave you with an excerpt I read on the airplane back to school in August that set the foundation for my mindset all season.

“Because he was fearless and gifted, he could surrender to his game fully. He could risk everything because he knew he had taken possession of his time on the field and had perfect faith in his skills and instincts.” ~ Pat Conroy, My Losing Season

You all have seeds of greatness in you. Learn to have that ‘perfect faith’ both in yourself and your teammates. And remember, if ever the goal seems too high, JUST DON’T LOOK DOWN!

I wish you –current and future Illini- more successful seasons to come. Seasons full of adversity to build character, camaraderie to make it worthwhile, and in your great efforts, memories to treasure forever.

- Hope #1

Out of Left Field: Illinois Softball Blog #10 (Purdue/ Minnesota Series)

I know, I know…it’s already been a week and 5 games, where’s the blog already?! Forgive me. Exam week takes its toll. Once I finished this semester, I never wanted to see my laptop ever again.

We swept Purdue (first one of the seniors’ career!) And thank goodness we run-ruled them the last game; not only did that give us a better record and confidence going into our Senior Weekend, but several of us had exams the next morning and were in desperate need of studying. Because I had 5 days between exams, I had time to plan my study regimen perfectly. But how can anyone focus when you’re in a Big Ten race?

*~* whatever. I just promised myself that after the double-header I would go to the gas station, buy one of those amazing iced mocha drinks Hollie recently turned me onto and use the caffeine to study all night. Don’t get me wrong, Hollie is my beloved partner in crime, but it’s dangerous having a friend who likes all the things you do. When she gets hooked on something, I get hooked on something, and vice versa. –Which is why I’m now paying $3 4x a week for 20 oz. of straight sugar and she can’t stop watching Real Housewives of New York.

After we swept Purdue, in accordance with my plan, I dragged my roommate Audrey (who also had a final exam at 8 a.m. to the gas station to buy our essential “study session” drinks and snacks. I made a Bee-line for the mocha machine when nothing came out!!! Right then I was conflicted between the devil and angel on either side of my shoulders…. “This ruins the plan!” Vs. “It’s not worth it, Hope…” Good luck trying to reason with a girl who has a law exam worth 45% of her grade in 9 hours and a heaping pile of flashcards to memorize.

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME DUDE!?” I screamed at the gas station attendant. “I’VE BEEN DREAMING ABOUT THIS MOCHA FOR A WHOLE WEEK!” I immediately realized how pathetic that sounded and didn’t expect the guy to take a 22 yr old girl, throwing a tantrum with traces of eye black down her cheeks seriously. The guy said he’d look in the back for more, but only came out holding an “OUT OF ORDER” sticker that he slapped on the blending machine. My only hope for revenge? Immortalize this epic offense in my blog. VICTORY IS MINE!! Whatever, I probably just gave the gas station the publicity it needs. If you ever need a Mocha spokesperson, you know where to find me.

So, after compromising with a coke icee instead, I walked (heavy hearted, mind you) with my Audrey back to our apartment, vowing to only talk about the game on the walk back home. Once we walked through the door, the only sounds you could hear were her pounding laptop keys and me flipping flashcards. That is, until 7:30 a.m. when we parted ways to assume our fate.
My law final was lethal. LETHAL I TELL YOU! Each question was the equivalent of taking a bullet. I barely knew anything- reminded me a lot of the SATs, without the luxury of omitting questions. But as soon as I walked out the double doors, HELLO SENIOR WEEKEND! Did I mention this weekend was SENIOR WEEKEND?

GAME ONE
Minnesota got an early lead in the 3rd, but we weren’t fazed. Slowly, but surely we strung hits together, chipping away at the Gopher’s lead until we could finally grab it for ourselves. No one panicked- it was simply a mutual understanding that we’d get those runs back. I believe everything thing we do in one way or another prepares us for post-season. For example, no team can overcome a 3-run lead with only three or four hitters- it takes everyone. And that’s why we succeed. Our offense knows exactly what it takes to score runs, and do not care how or what they have to do to get on. For example, I led off the inning reaching on an error, and then Meredith and Hollie did the same. Once we touched home, did anyone actually remember, or even care how we got on? Course not. The scoreboard knows no jersey number, and we were going to lean into every pitch and steal every extra base we could until we got the lead back.

And props to our defense, as it has a tendency to get even tighter after opposing teams score. Every run scored against us is personal, but especially if it takes our offense a while to get going, we have to work together to be extra stingy and aggressive on defense.

GAME TWO

Before heading to the field, I stopped by my parent’s hotel for a free hot breakfast and visited the lobby’s computer to check my email. To my surprise, my final exam grade and overall grade was already in! Of course, I blew the final, but ended up getting an A in the class! I had a friend double check for me before I actually believed it. I figured “Ok, this has to be Karma from the Mocha machine.” Thinking my good luck account would be bankrupt after my law exam’s incredibly large withdrawal, I never in a million years would have believed Senior Day would have turned out like it did.
First, we seniors walked in to see our lockers decorated with Congratulations, streamers and shiny banners with our names and numbers on them. On our benches were digital picture frames with countless rotating group and action shots.
*Thank you to all the picture taking parents for all these great memories!

That morning, all my family, friends and teammates asked if I was ready for my last game on Eichelberger Field EVER! I just shrugged my shoulders; we stood such a great chance of hosting, it didn’t seem as final to me. Forgive the morbid analogy, but it’s like if you met a crazy psychic who knew the day (or how) you were going to die, would you honestly want to know? I don’t think I would. And I think it’d be an insult to the team if I consciously played my supposed last game any different than the first or next. But still, that didn’t mean we couldn’t end the “regular” season with our best performance ever. So I guess the moral of the story is, not only is ignorance bliss- it keeps you aggressive at the plate.
Right from the start I knew we were going to win. No, it wasn’t just a feeling- our teammates told us, plain out- they were going to annihilate this team for us- and they were going to do it quickly so we could have more time to celebrate with our families.

The night before, I went 1-4, but felt as though I was seeing it well and hitting the ball hard. I told Hollie I was going to take Vaji’s approach- if she doesn’t find a hole in the defense to expose, she just hits it right at them hard enough so that they either botch it or it shoots past them before they even notice. So when I stepped into the box in the bottom of the first, I just thought “Doesn’t have to be pretty, just hit it hard.” Eventually I worked my way to a 3-1 count. Now, we’re trained to only swing if it’s our favorite pitch or right down the middle, and lead off batters are in no position to turn down an opportunity to get on base, especially when Mer’s batting behind me. I thought, “Don’t get greedy, just take the walk.” Then the pitcher’s release- that ball looked like Christmas morning. Well, maybe I can make this one exception…..HOME RUN!

*Thank you Mrs. Wright for chasing that ball down before the field crew could get it and return it to the umpires. My Dad will probably sleep with that ball under his pillow for the rest of the season, thinking maybe the home-run fairy will visit me again.

My second at bat I came up with Vaji on third and Z on second base with one out. WHAT AN AMAZING SITUATION. No matter what I do, I win. Sac fly or ground out, Vaji scores. Base hit, they both score. I knew all I had to do was not strike out, and Z would be at the plate before I even touched first. I hit the ball to right field, and while they were tempted to get Z at the plate, got to second.
My third time around it was almost comical. Everyone was telling me to stay hot, but I knew better. As soon as you think you can rope anything thrown at you-- is when you wiff. This day was already so incredible- we had a huge lead against Minnesota and I got an A in a class that people typically reserve to repeat again, so I knew my luck was running on E. I thought “C’mon…would God really let me THREE times?” So with Z at second, I was focused on moving the runner with something to the right side. The 2nd baseman hesitated, and there I was, 3 for 3.


Still, the day wasn’t perfect until the entire team got in. Truthfully, I don’t feel like our season could have ended any better. I mean, Jackie gets up, and hits up the middle and then again down the line, Erin gets a pinch hit, Nikki gets a pinch hit, you can’t make this stuff up! –And don’t think Bailey’s wasn’t a great pinch hit either. She practically walked twice, but was wrung up on mercy calls. No fair, and it’s really sad that she’s immune to those ridiculous mercy calls.

Then- in relief- Ash Bob. Too freakin perfect. K,K,K, K,… (my lap top won’t do backwards Ks….) I hope everyone who’s read this blog about Ashley’s pitching saw for yourself this weekend. She’s incredible. And it’s only fitting that she struck out the side in the 7th, leaving us both with game balls to treasure forever.
In case you’ve lost track, let’s RECAP: that’s an A on my crazy hard Law class, a HR, double and single on SENIOR DAY with my best buddy and fellow senior providing the K to seal our careers at Eichelberger Field- I totally should have gone out and bought a lottery ticket.

To the juniors, sophomores, and freshmen--it was a total team effort and I wouldn’t want to go out at Eichy any other way. I am both honored and grateful that your goal that day was to win and make us proud doing it. MISSION ACCOMPLISHED. Now I dare you to top it.

Out of Left Field: Illinois Softball Blog #9 (IOWA SERIES)

Future Illini: you can’t know where you’re going until you know where you’ve been.
I remember each and every faceoff with Iowa like it was yesterday. *Note: I am only conjuring up these stinging memories to reveal how cutthroat the series have been over the years and of course, to provide insight into the unfathomable amount of seething hatred I possess for them.

Freshman series vs. Iowa (2007) Went into extra innings. I was on second base for the international tiebreaker in the 8th and was sac-bunted over. We eventually loaded them up, bringing Lana up with two outs and a full count. She swung, but the ball got away from the catcher and I scored on a drop-third strike. We figured that crazy error meant we were destined to win and we were only three outs away from closing the deal. In the bottom of the 8th, we walked a girl, and then Iowa hit a walk-off home run. The next day we were rained out, unable to avenge ourselves, and finished the Big Ten with a losing record.

Sophomore series (2008) World’s Largest Tailgate- both games weren’t exactly our best offensive performances; we just couldn’t string enough hits together. We lost 5-2 and 12-6, respectively. Less than a week later, we would face –and later get run ruled by them in the Big Ten tournament. Yes, the losses are one disappointment, but to see your beloved seniors fall to the same team on their senior day- and then again to end their season- is heartbreak I hope my underclassmen never have to witness me experience; and let’s be honest, something I hope I never have to bear.

Junior series (2009) Our offense was perfect-gamed by their senior pitcher. Moni, then a freshman, had shut them out until the 7th inning when Iowa hit a walk-off homerun. The next game, deflated from the first game, we got run ruled, 8-1. What’s worse-the entire night was shown on the Big Ten Network, broadcasting the humiliation to all our loved ones.

Each and every game was so close, yet so far- and every last one left a bad taste in my mouth. So naturally, after these epic showdowns, you can understand why our senior class took our last two games against them so seriously, and had trained our team to go for blood.

SENIOR SERIES (2010)
After Tuesday’s practice, Coach Sullivan said to celebrate Cinco de Mayo, when “Not if” we swept Iowa, she would take us to our favorite Mexican restaurant on campus – on her! As if we didn’t already want to win… Oh, it’s on! I put up a sign that said “El Toro or Bust” in the dugout just in case anyone forgot...

But who am I kidding!?! Reading this blog is like watching Titanic. You know what happens…so let’s get to the good stuff!!


GAME ONE

As mentioned before, Iowa is one of the best teams in the Big Ten, and can’t be taken lightly. Z and I were talking about how unlike Purdue, who thrives by putting pressure on the defense, Iowa is more of a silent killer; they just get one to two runners on base each inning and before you know it, they’ve got 4 runs. They never play too emotional, but just because they don’t jump around and yell doesn’t mean they don’t have a game plan.
We all knew that measly one run was not going to be enough, and it came back to bite us when they rallied with a bases-clearing double, scoring four that inning. But our team believed we would get it done.

In the bottom of the 7th, unselfish Cuevas leaned into a pitch to start the rally. Nikki came into pinch hit and tagged up on Acon’s fly out to foul right field. Z slapped an outside pitch that practically parted the 3rd baseman’s hair and I hit the same pitch hard enough for their shortstop to fumble it and Nikki to reach home.

Later in our locker room, I asked Nikki where the ball ricocheted in order for her to score. “Nowhere,” she replied. “So, what?” I asked. “You looked her dead in her eye and ran?” Nikki just giggled. That ball was right in front of the shortstop and she couldn’t get Nikki out! Ohhhh, the power of speed.

So with Z on 2nd and yours truly on 1st, Mer took the very first pitch over the flag pole. WALK OFF!!! Audi swears it was still in the air when Mer rounded 3rd base. At that moment, I was conflicted between sprinting to the plate and sprinting backward to tackle Mer. The only think stopping me? The rule book. I was afraid they’d call me out if I ran backward. (But we ended up winning by two. Winning by one was good enough for me, and if I could have done the math quickly enough, I would have done it). When Mer finally reached home, we were jumping up and down so hard, someone jumped down on my helmet, causing my facemask to split my lip. I didn’t even realize until I tasted blood while singing the loyalty song. But who cares? This is the blood of a WINNER.

In all sincerity, we know we’re talented, but I think sometimes we even surprise ourselves when we see the amazing things we’re capable of. I do not- I repeat, do not - plan on having kids, but I swear, if I do, half of their bedtimes stories will end with “and the Illini advanced.”


GAME TWO
Let’s just say, we’ve learned our lesson from Ohio State. So after the walk off, while we were incredibly excited, the feeling couldn’t linger- we still had one more W to grab, and we knew Iowa was coming after us with a fury. Z led off the first with a triple- *shame, shame, Iowa outfielders playing with a shallow shift on*

Assuming this could be yet another very close game, I hit a sac fly to score her. Little did I know it would be the only out for the next 3 runs! When Mer hit one out, the dugout screamed- not only was this another one of her back to back HRs, but now we’re up by two. Then Hollie hit one! We thought “Awesome…this’ll give our defense even more confidence in the field and wiggle room for Pepper to work aggressively. Then Audi gets up and ropes one over the left field wall. Back to back to back home runs! Ok, now this is just ridiculous…. I can just see the little wide-eyed girls running up to us after the game with their posters chanting “Mer! Hollie! Audi!” -- I just wanna tell the smallest girl in the group “You know what, kid? There’s no shame in the sac fly! It’s the same RBIs- you remember that.” But what can you say? Fans dig the long ball.

As for our defense, when you play great teams, you have to understand they’re going to get their hits, and maybe go on a streak for an inning, but it’s all about how you respond back. Each time they scored, our offense wasn’t phased, grabbing those runs back and distancing ourselves up to 6 runs at one point.

*As far as IOWA's bases-clearing triple goes, I don’t know how that ball wasn’t a home run; I think the collected will of our team and fans willed that ball back in the park- it just had to be. It got a little tense in the later innings, as Iowa took advantage of the umpire’s tightening strike zone. Ok, Iowa…you asked for it. Time to bring in the wild thing. Yes, I mean Jackie Guy, our very own Rick Vaughn, #99.

There are no words to describe how clutch Jackie was that night- she just always shows up when you need her the most. I always feel relaxed and confident when she comes in relief. For example, last Jack came in with one out and runners on second and third. The first batter fouled one off by the left field line. Kel Del, Vaji and I went as hard as we could, but that ball was in the Bermuda Triangle, out of all of our reach. Jogging back, drained from the day and out of breath –there it was, my favorite part of Jackie’s pitching-her communication with her teammates. A beam of light shone down on Jackie as she nodded, pointed, and said “Way to hustle.” That’s all a defense needs! Nothing makes a player want to give more than when the pitcher understands you’re working as hard as they are. With Jackie, she’s not in the circle; she’s down in the trenches with you, and I know I speak for the team when I say we’ll crash through a wall for any one of our pitchers, but for Jackie? We’ll do it with a smile. After she praised the left side for our effort, I immediately felt recharged, knowing her focus would see us through. Sure enough, one sac fly and a wicked curve ball K later, we were in the dugout.

In the 7th inning, we got two outs quickly. However, Iowa wasn’t going down without a fight. One walk and a hit later, they had runners on first and second. I promised myself that if the last out was a fly ball to me, I wouldn’t celebrate. I would have the focus of a telekinetic and would hold onto that ball ‘til the umpire pried it out of my glove. Suddenly, Iowa hit a shot in the right-center gap! In true Acon fashion, before I could take my first angle left, she had read the ball perfectly, making a sliding catch and holding onto that ball tighter than a pickle jar. :)

Throughout the year, I had always envisioned beating them in dramatic fashion, but the material from these two games-- you can’t make this stuff up!

The only difference: in my daydreams, after we swept them, I collapsed in the outfield, like Vince Lombardi would have wanted it- “lying exhausted on the field of battle—victorious.” Well, so much for the plan. My adrenaline and Illini tradition prevented me from doing either. I sprinted to Acon, then bear hugged Jackie. Unfortunately, the game ended after our favorite Mexican restaurants had closed and we entered our huddle only to hear “Ok, get some sleep. DePaul tomorrow.” Guess we’ll be celebrating SEIS de Mayo.

In conclusion, for those who didn’t see my Facebook status: “The Illini have officially beat Iowa. I can die now.”

Out of Left Field: Illinois Softball Blog #8 Michigan State

Only three more days of school left! Hallelujah. I’m only one quiz and three exams away from being the equivalent of a professional athlete, where I don’t have to do anything but sleep, eat and practice, free from the stressful subplot of a student-athlete’s life-- that inconvenient and inconsequential thing called a DEGREE.

MICHIGAN STATE 
Game 1

Yes, our rival teams have most likely seen our stats, but the first game of any Big Ten series, we always want to make a statement and leave a sort of “Yes, even with you, the rumors are true” impression. Their field was 200 down the lines and 220 in center, (the odds of hitting one out are pretty slim) and our hitters naturally switch over to “double-mode” and just try to hit the gaps. But Acon always seems to find a way to show us up at the funniest, but most perfect times, popping one off into the forest behind left field to draw first blood. But don’t be fooled- that homerun was less of an RBI and more of a dare the rest of us to top it. – In the 7th, after 7 runs composed of walks, singles and errors later- Meredith answered with a laser hit over the right field wall that bounced onto a picnic table.

Meanwhile, Moni, once again, shut down the Spartan offense. What more can I say? While I never tire of bragging on my teammates, I, Hope Emily Howell, am running out of things to say! –I know, inconceivable, right? Hell just froze over….which probably means a cold double header on Wednesday. But seriously, if you haven’t seen Moni when she’s on, it should definitely be on all y’all’s “Things to Do Before I Die” list.

Our game was broadcast on the Big Ten Network and later, my Dad asked why we would try to get the lead out when we had a 6 –run lead. I told him that’s just our mentality this year. We understand that our level of play can’t depend on the caliber of teams we face. In February, when we played then-ranked Fresno State at Stanford, although we were up by 5, we still acted like the game was 0-0. So honestly, our approach with Michigan State shouldn’t have been any different. In order to be a championship team, we have to act accordingly. So whether we’re up by 13 or down by 3, we’re still challenging ourselves, trying to fine-tune our play and strive for excellence because that’s what going to help us in postseason. We work so hard, and it’s amazing to see us all have our best performances in May, because it’s not an accident- we’ve prepared for it all year.

Game 2

Contrary to our game plan, we didn’t exactly end the game early, but felt in control the entire time. Vaji put us on the board with a bases-clearing triple. Once again, it’s something about playing shallow that insults slappers. The funny thing about slappers is they lift as much as we do, they just run faster. Wouldn’t that make them more of a threat? Vaji’s RBIs would suggest so. Later, Kelley hit a solo shot and Vaji, Z and I combined for another run. Once again, Pepper guarded our runs, teasing the batters with her best pitches (not to mention Audrey knows just what pitches to call and when to call ‘em), which shut them out, with only 4 hits in 7 innings.

In closing, while it may seem like our regular season is coming to a close, we still have so many things we want to accomplish. It’s kind of ironic, really. Once your team finally starts to get the recognition it’s deserved all along, you don’t just read the rankings, plop on the couch and say “Ah, finally;” your reaction is to go to the field early, lift more, watch more tape- anything in your power- because you know that you’re no longer a secret to the competition and the fight to stay on top will be even harder. But make no mistake, hard work is kind of addicting at the same time. For instance, this week I must have hit over 100 balls off the low-out tee because our coaching staff guaranteed they’d throw it to me. I got caught every time I tried to move the tee higher and hated every minute of that stupid drill; but when this weekend, when I recognized that pitch and drove it, it’s hard not to catch the fever. Standing on 2nd base, it’s hard to say to whom I’m more grateful- Coach or the pitcher.

Out of Left Field: Illinois Softball Blog #7 (vs. SIU, Wisconsin)

Vs. SIU

The day before we played Southern Illinois, reporters from the local papers came by and asked what we expected from the Salukis. Last year, we only beat them by one run in extra innings and they still had a bad taste in their mouth from losing a 3 game series to Illinois State last weekend; with those factors, combined with our team’s rank of No. 18, the target on your back starts to itch. But after coming off an offensively stingy sweep at Penn State, the team felt we were due for a big offensive game. So when the reporter said SIU’s ace had an ERA below 2 and their coach stressed how they intended to keep the score low, my response? “Good luck.”

I feel the SIU game- much like Loyola and Northwestern- shows the biggest differences between our team in 2009 and in 2010. It’s not that we want the games more- because that’d be impossible to exceed from last year- but we just understand what it takes to get us there. Yes, we’re excited for every game, but our composure and confidence keeps us from feeling pressured on defense or becoming overanxious at the plate. {I know, I know, I should practice what I preach *cough, my Wisconsin strikeout, cough*} But both sides of our game feed off each other and give us momentum into each inning, setting the bar high, while still playing within ourselves.

We were hitting throughout our lineup and were up by 7 when the SALUKIS scored one in the 6th. Once again, we could have just said “The game’s in the bag,” and just hit cruise control until the 7th, but we were determined to get done early. Vaji came up big with a bases-clearing walk-off hit in the bottom of the 6th, sealing the deal and our in-state domination. Chalk it up! W.

TAILGATE WEEKEND

It’s a running joke on our team that you can always tell when someone’s parents are coming to a game. Suddenly that person is like Mr. Rogers, whistling show tunes and practically glowing. I’d be lying if I said the rule didn’t particularly apply to out-of-state players. There’s just something about you and your family sharing the same TIME ZONE that gives you an extra pep in your step.

And on the biggest Illinois Softball weekend of the year- World’s Largest Tailgate- parents are icing on the cake.

This weekend I found out I’m guilty of it too. Even a dreary and rainy day like Friday didn’t keep me down. As soon as my mom shot me the “Ok, at the gate” text, I was giddy-I gave people the right of way on the Quad and caught myself actually amused by the rhythm of my soaked tennis shoes squishing. Bouncing my knee in class watching the clock, I was praying my parent’s flight wasn’t delayed or cancelled from the torrential downpour.

During the week, I made sure to cover the pre-parental visit essentials.
a) Corral all hospital bills from my food allergies (long story) so they can handle the insurance stuff
b) Clean apartment*
*= strategically place mascara and lip gloss on my bedroom dresser so my mom thinks I still wear it
c) Practice in mirror: “No Dad, I don’t need cash for groceries….well, ok….if you insist.”


WISCONSIN
Saturday morning, the team went to the dedication of the Martin Softball Complex. I don’t think we could have found a more compatible family to help sponsor our team. Honestly, the Martins pretty much embody our Illinois Softball family. They’re so positive and have a great sense of humor, as well as tremendous pride and love for the Orange and Blue. The team is already so fortunate to have all the privileges- facilities, gear, etc. - that we do; to add our fantastic locker room is truly more than I ever imagined. When you’re 8 years old playing in the yard dreaming of playing college ball, you never think “and my locker will be polished wood, not scrap metal.” So when your locker room looks like something out of a fairy tale, it’s easy to be reminded how we’re all living the dream. The locker room is home, and it was incredibly moving to hear Ms. Alice say she knows she made a good investment in us. It’s clearly not a coincidence that the year we got the locker room our team was tighter than ever, resulting in our first postseason appearance in something like over 4 years. To the Martin family- thank you, and know we’ll forever remember your generosity and encouragement.

As far as the game goes, there’s no other way to say it: We were straight gunning for them. Not only did we have a small time frame to actually get the game in before the bottom fell out the clouds, but we could smell popcorn and burgers coming from the tents blaring tailgate music and could hear people laughing and tops popping. I think I speak for the team when I say our mentality was as follows: those kids in red were the only thing between us and eating brats with our friends and family. As soon as the first pitch was thrown, get out of our way! ...and have my lawn chair ready.

Sure enough, the ball game went from 0-90 mph. The crowd was obviously less than expected from the weather, but for those loyal ones that came, we wanted to give them a show!! Moni set the tone for us, shutting them down the entire game and pitched a one hitter, while Mer left no doubt, hitting back to back homers and tallying 4 out of our total 6 RBIs. We couldn’t finish the game early, but we finished all 7 with record pace.

After rushing to join them, the tailgaters didn’t disappoint. Because we had to start the game at noon instead of 3, there were only three tailgates in the lot the entire day. It was totally eerie to me too because they was set up in sort of a past, present, and future construction. The On-Deck Circle had a huge spread, followed by current players’ parents neighboring tailgate and last, but definitely not least, the alumni in a camper. Normally, it’s nice to see that lot full of tailgaters from the community, but this time it was about quality, not quantity. I knew everyone! And everybody kept alternating tailgates; it was like musical chairs. Everyone out on the lawn while it drizzled, then when it started raining cats and dogs, you sprint to the nearest cover and mingle with the people under the tent with you. Except for Acon, our ever-so-competitive centerfielder, challenging anyone brave enough to come out into the pouring rain and play her in bags.

Ok, one last thing: a shout out to the alumni.
If you wonder if we know you, we do. We’ve heard countless stories-the good, the bad, the ugly- from current players (former ones now), coaches, etc. and they just keep getting passed down from class to class like fairy tales, except instead of bedtime stories, we tell them post-practice to freshmen at dinner when they swipe us into the dorms. Yes, some of it gets lost in translation, but the moral stays the same.

Ex. “I can’t remember who did it, or how long they had to run, but just know-you better not.”

I feel that just like it’s the upperclassmen’s job to tell the stories about those who came before them- and the experiences they’ve had here as well- it’s the underclassmen’s job to soak them all up, and pass ’em down to the next graduating class; not only to learn from your mistakes and keep history from repeating itself, but to find reassurance that people can relate and have actually survived. So don’t worry. Your legacy is intact. :)

As far as your tailgate goes, I’m sure you guys feel like you’re falling into a time-warp, but to me it’s like looking into a crystal ball. It gives me peace of mind to know that you guys have parted ways, some even on completely different paths, but whenever you’re all together, y’all can pick up where you left off and it’s like you never left. And I cannot wait (off the record, of course) to join you.

Out of Left Field: Illinois Softball Blog #6 (Penn State Series)

Before we played Penn State, I was on Facebook, checking up on former Georgia teammates to see how they’re doing in their conference (ACC, SEC, Big East) play. I was particularly inspired by my friend Claudia Cooper’s (a catcher for NC State) status:

“Somewhere behind the athlete you have become, behind the hours of practice and the coaches who have pushed you and the teammates who believed in you, is a little girl who fell in love with the game and never looked back...play for her.”

If you’ll permit me to go a little philosophical on y’all, I think that applies to so much more than sports. You can substitute “the game” for just about anything. But I really don’t have the time, energy or computer battery left to open up that can of worms.

So I decided to adopt that “inner child” mentality for the Penn State series. Sometimes (ok, team, I’ll speak for myself) I’m so preoccupied with acting hard core (maybe it’s testosterone-induced from lifting weights or a feeling that I have to don a tough, robotic exterior every game in the hopes of intimidating ruthless, scrappy Big Ten opponents) but in the process of treating our road-to-the-championship as business, I occasionally forget how much fun the actual game can be. Ok, I’m off my soapbox. Back to the games!

PENN ST #1
There had been rumors of a double-header on Saturday, as Sunday called for scattered snow and rain across Pennsylvania- textbook Big Ten weather. However, the weather was pretty decent while we were in the cages, so warm in fact, several of us debated taking our long sleeves off. Then the wind came…then the rain came….then the snow came. I feel conflicted even calling it snow, because snow suggests a type of gentle flake. The way these things were ricocheting off our jerseys and stinging our eyes, we said it was “salting.”

With these harsh conditions, all we thought about was winning and finding the nearest fireside. Lucky for us, Bionica showed up. While the other team merely had to throw it in our area code to strike us out, Moni coped with her skewed strike zone, and was on point!

This was the only variety our defense saw yesterday.
Swing, watch strike, swing.
Watch strike, swing, swing.
Watch strike, watch strike, swing.

She only allowed one hit the whole game. There are no words for the way she pitched. Come to think of it, she probably could have thrown even fewer pitches if they would have helped her out; she had to throw three per batter ‘cause they couldn’t even touch it!

As if their offense wasn’t deflating them enough, I couldn’t help thinking about those poor Nittany Lions on the field. We didn’t even put up our usual offensive numbers, but their pitcher was always going deep in the count, keeping them out in the field breathing into their hands for over 15 minutes at a time, which made me love Moni even more. She was working not only with strong presence, but quickly, which when you’re playing in subzero weather, is most appreciated by your defense who are eager to get back to their windbreakers and hot hands.

OFFENSE-- I think everybody remembers Z going 8 for 8 last season against Penn State. Of course, no one said anything to her this weekend, because who wants to be reminded, “Hey, you can only go down from here!”? But there’s just something about Z and Penn State- she OWNS THEM! She went 3 for 4, and while it may not be statistically as good as 1.000, she ignites our team, tempting our lineup to play “try to catch up to Z,” and getting a couple hits ourselves.

Now, I’m really, really, really going to try to be politically correct here, as not to trigger any potential Big Ten violations, so I’m just going to say I’m so proud of our team for winning despite the seemingly-insurmountable odds placed on us. It seemed like just one thing after another. * See home cooking reference. Man, all home fields should take notes from Penn State. For instance, I come into the dugout from outfield drills to find my lucky bat had been confiscated because of the handle. This wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact that I’m on a roll, would it?? *See Indiana State Voodoo doll* The umpire banished it to the outside of the fence, where I could see the poor thing the whole game; I even debated asking our highly skilled Jedi Audrey to use the force and will my bat back into the dugout.

I came up to the plate the third time with Z on second, after she hit a double. Going 0 for 2, I knew I had seen enough pitches to have a pretty good idea of the strike zone. I thought wrong. I got rung up by a ball –no lie, see the tape- in the right handed batter’s box. Good thing I’m playing like the 8 yr old me today; ‘cause the 8 year old me hadn’t learned the name I wanted to call him yet.

But that’s what I LOVE about our offense; if you’re not having your best day at the plate, your team is right there to pick you up. So although Tam the Man (what I call my bat) was in exile, our offense put up enough runs to draw first blood and secure the victory. Both Audrey and Vaji hit shots into the left center gap to put us ahead for the rest of the game.

PENN STATE #2
Same weather, different day. Wish I had a nickel for every time I could see my breath while singing the national anthem.
Last night Coach Sullivan tried to strike a deal with us for the 2nd game.
The terms:
If We win by ten runs, with errorless defense and solid pitching,
Then No study tables the whole bus ride home.

It’s clearly the dawn of a new age. The Coach Sullivan I knew my freshman, sophomore and junior year would have NEVER, EVER made deals with players for wins; if we tried to strike a deal with her 3 years ago, she would have considered it a potential mutiny, responding with “How about you all go run three miles, and I’ll pretend you didn’t have simultaneous lobotomies and consider playing you next game?” But see, that was Illinois Softball B.C. (before child). Now we’re on cruise control, anything goes and we’re having a BLAST. While we’re still winning anyway.

We started Moni again and she was as crisp as ever. But we made some errors and put a little pressure on ourselves. However, our defense never startled. For that matter, neither did our offense. Kel Del and I both hit homers, extending the lead and grabbing back those runs we gave away.
Needless to say with our errors and lack of double-digit runs, we lost the bet. And here we are….during study tables. – I know, I should be studying, but hey, I’m looking at this as a career investment. (Anyone need a professional blogger? I’m too attractive to do stand-up comedy. )

Out of Left Field: Illinois Softball Blog #5 (vs. Eastern, Penn State Road Trip)

Vs. EASTERN
Aka our last chance to get some at bats in before Penn State and gain even more momentum into the weekend. Coach Sullivan said she wasn’t going to be satisfied unless we ended the game early. Umm, newsflash, that’s the plan every game. But we agreed this was an especially necessary run rule, as we leave for Penn State early Friday morning; the quicker we put this team away, the sooner we can go home, do laundry, pack, watch our DVRed reality shows and, if there’s time, finish the projects/papers/online homework we have to turn in before the weekend. And since we hadn’t run ruled a team in a while, we considered this a special task. The goal? 5 innings in less than 90 min. GO!

Well, maybe we got a little carried away with our mission, as Jackie was throwing perhaps a little too aggressively, and pegged two out of the first three batters she faced.

**flashback ** During one practice in the indoor, we ran offensive stations where each hitter would get two at bats off each pitcher. Jackie was having a rough time finding the plate that day, getting behind in the count and walking several of us. She seemed tentative and eventually pitched to me 3-0; I walked to the mound and said “Look, our offense needs you to throw hard to get us ready for Georgia. You’re not making us better by pitching around us. Just trust your stuff and bring the heat, OK?” Jackie nodded in agreement and I jogged back into the box, hoping I’d encouraged/motivated her, or at least said something inspiring, actually worthy of a “captain” title. The next pitch- and I’m not kidding, ask Jackie-made a 100 mph bee-line for my right ear. I did a bullet-dodging Matrix move and BARELY hit the ground in time. Even now, I can’t think of that day without laughing. Of course, Jackie didn’t mean to (on the record, anyway) but now I know what that chick can do when she’s let loose. I ended up walking and winning the drill, but I still feel like she won; from then on, I only ask her to bring the heat when I’m in left field.

So those girls that got clipped last night? I’ve been there. And they probably saw their lives flash before their eyes.

--Offense---
After facing smoke from Michigan’s Jordan Taylor and Northwester’s Lauren Delaney, you know that Eastern Illinois is not going to blow it by you. However, sometimes slow pitching is even harder to hit. With a Big Ten ace, all you have to do is see the ball and react, their speed supplies the power; on the other hand, slower pitching requires balance, timing, and timing. Did I mention timing? So when you recognize a ball you know you can cream, you have to be patient.

The process is as follows:
Fast pitcher: Recognize pitch- hurry, swing before it’s past you!
Slow pitcher: Recognize pitch, sing your ABCs, tie your shoe, drive home, preheat oven, drive back, take a deep breath, load, stride, swing.

Especially with hitters like me, who’s well, “unorthodox.” (Yes, I know my stance is not aesthetically pleasing, and no, I’m not sure where I learned it either) but I know enough about my swing to know there’s pretty much no room for error; either hit a screamer or look like an idiot. I’m like that one-legged dog on the TLC channel- unusual, but somehow gets along just fine. We unconventional hitters have to rely on other factors to get hits. For example, sometimes catcher-pitcher communication before the pitch gives everything away.

My Catcher-Pitcher key:
1) “C’mon (insert name)! Just like we talked about!” = scouting reports say I’m a sucker for off speed/junk. I’m fixing to get either a drop or change.
2) “Trust it here!” = Here comes her worst pitch
3) “Like you know how!” = here comes her best pitch

Coach-defense communication gives me even more of an advantage.
1) “Watch #6 going!” = pitch out. Guaranteed 1-0 count. (Thanks, Z)
2) “She’s gonna bunt!” = they think I’m going to sac Z over. Expect a grapefruit.
I was lucky enough to hear the latter last night. A sure-fire “Here, bunt this, we’ll take the out” pitch that I put over the wall. “And the Illini lead two to zero!”…. Dang skippy. I am LOVING this pink headband!!

In retrospect, maybe our 90 min goal was a little lofty. Jackie was mowing them down, causing our offense to work fast too-- but forget to score. We were also a little anxious, so busy trying to crank the ball out, we didn’t hit our favorite pitches. The Panthers gave us a nice break when they hit Kel Del, then made an error. Two singles after that, and it was 5-0, which in the bottom of the 3rd was still a great pace for a run-rule.

Favorite part of the night: Even though Kel Del’s not exactly driving balls over the wall, she still finds ways to contribute. Not only is she always the first one to scratch and pull her way on base with a walk, hit by pitch, etc. to start a rally, but I’m also talking about her ability to separate her offense from her defense. She’s matured sooo much between this year and last year that when she’s on defense, you can’t tell if she’s batting .000 or 1.000. She’s our hot corner brick wall and makes a LOT of plays look easy.

Exhibit A: Kelley struck out (more like the umpire equivalent of a drive-by, when they ring you up on a strike over your head), but I don’t think she could have bounced back any quicker. One defense, the first batter of the inning laid down a beautiful bunt. Kel Del, not missing a beat, charged it and made a perfect throw. Out! -- And that’s why we pay her the big bucks.

In the 7th inning, Z and I tried to pull yet another “Let’s save Hollie’s foot” deal. She bunted for a hit and I singled, which was great- but then we looked at each other like “Now what?” Hollie got up and hit a 3-run shot over the right field wall. (You know her HR swing- the one where she arches her back and her back swing makes this like, figure 8- I guess it’s her spine trying to handle all that TORQUE she’s putting in the ball). Anyway, that put the nail in the coffin, 8-0. When we both reached home plate, I told Z “Umm…maybe we still need stinking Hollie.”

After the game, Jackie and I were called up to the press box. I said “Uh oh, Jackie….you’ve been summoned to Oz.”

I’m pretty sure when you die, you go to the Eichelberger Field press box. It’s always warm and dry inside, everyone’s excited to see you and no one screams “Get your cleats off the carpet!” For the next 8 minutes you’re bombarded with amazing compliments and get to brag on your teammates and the season you’ve been having. Then, after the papers are done asking questions, it’s back out into the cold, harsh reality (that is, assuming you can still fit your head through the door when you exit).

I’ve only been beckoned from the press box twice, the last time after hitting a walk off against Loyola in extra innings last year. Trotting around the bases in the pouring rain- still breathing heavy- I was allowed to skip on tarp duty to run up there. I walk in and with the bright light of a news camera shining in my face, this guy puts his microphone in my face and says “How do you feel?!” Still stunned, I said the first thing that came to my mind: “Uh…wet.” How profound, right? Ugh, I promised myself I’d do better this time.

I told the new reporters I’ve honestly never seen anyone throw as hard as Jackie. Not only versus Eastern, but in general. Some girls throw heat, but the ball looks like a BB; others throw hard, but their pitches spin away from you, so it’s no big threat. Not Jackie- she brings that ball all up in your grill, giving you one of two options. Either it looks fat and you think “MONEY BALL!” only to have it rise up over your head, or it comes so hard inside on you, you think “this is it, this is how I’m going to die,” then it hooks in for a strike. Figures. With Jackie, your chin, your ribcage, nothing’s off limits.

No, I’m not naïve, I know she had a rocky 1st inning, but she came back even harder. Besides, if we’re gonna put somebody on, I’d rather have them wounded for next time. While she may have had starter butterflies or whatever, all that matters –to your coach and definitely to your defense- is how you respond. The 2nd - 5th innings, let’s just say “Butterflies extinct.” When Jackie works ahead, look out. Like I mentioned before, her speed knocks you off the plate only for her to take 30 mph off for her change up that practically shaves your kneecap. So it’s obviously no coincidence the girls who got nailed their first at bat had their back foot in the back corner of the box, letting her exploit that outside pitch. See? There’s a method to her madness. I know she and Pepper are freshmen, but their accuracy is being fine-tuned with every outing. Just wait ‘til they’re upperclassmen- they’ll be circumcising gnats.

Official game time: 1 hour, 47 min. Darn, guess I can’t run that two mile I was hoping to get in before bed. Psh!
Translation: I’ll catch up on those extra 17 minutes of sleep on the bus.

PENN ST ROAD TRIP
Departure Time: 8:15 ETA: 8:15. Easy to remember. Not so easy to endure.
Started off to a good start. Watched Hitch, followed by a much needed two hours of study table.
12:30 stopped at a 7/11 in Columbus to stretch legs, bathroom break, but definitely not snacks. I repeat, definitely not snacks. ;)

1:30 Lunch at Fazoli’s. Only including this because I know people can relate to my frustration (and my reaction) when I came back to my bus seat to find my iPod had been on THE WHOLE TIME WE WERE INSIDE!! Ugh, typical. It died moments later.

2:30 We voted to watch Planet Earth- fell asleep to the sounds of giant waterfalls and jungle bird cadences- ah…..zzzz……that is, of course until I was awakened by some shrieking bullfrog mating roar. I woke up, totally refreshed, and realized while I was asleep they had changed the DVD to another disc of Planet Earth Caves or something. “That’s a good sign,” I thought. “Probably slept a good hour or two away!” Looked at my cell phone. 2:51. Not good.

3:00 Wide awake with no other option but to borrow a teammate's Ipod, listen to their Emo playlist and contemplate the meaning of life.

4:34 My 22 year old (in NCAA/Big Ten softball years, I’m like 87) knees are beginning to ache. Must alternate between keeping them bent, then extended. Rotate between fetal position and propping my feet up on Ash Bob’s seat in front of me every 10-15 minutes.

*staring at legs propped up on Ash’s chair. Observing legs.
Left leg: Have a deep bullet hole-like gash in shin from sliding into home at practice, harpooning myself with Audrey’s catcher’s helmet.

Right leg
a) scar on upper knee from football indoor rug burns, aka seal walks in January.
b) newly-healed-please-Lord-don’t -reopen-sliding-this-weekend scrape from Mizzou.
c) accumulated bumps/bruises. Players can always tell which game/day they were from by color it is

1. Faint yellow bruise= older; when I broke up the force play at home vs. Illinois State.
Catcher launched the ball into RF and Kelley scored winning run. Totally worth it.
2. Green bruise= fairly new; from stretching the center fielder’s error on my fly ball into 2 bases.
* That reminds me-- gotta practice more sun balls.
3. Red scrape= fresh, Wednesday’s practice.

Moral of the story: man, I need to go tanning. I liked it so much better in preseason when we were the ones jet-setting and coming back sunburned. In February, I’d go to class Monday morning sporting my amazing sunglasses tan and my classmates would say, “Bragger.” Then suddenly spring break rolls around, everyone in Illinois went to Miami or something, and now I’m blinding people on the Quad with my glow-in-the-dark legs.

Still, it could be worse. I could have 100 staples from my shin to my toe like Jess who broke her leg the other day and had to have screws installed. (Miss you, buddy)

8 hours into the road trip: {R.I.P. my computer battery.}
Feeling a lot like that dog in Dr. DoLittle looking out the window “Line….line….line… Hope, you’re going crazy. Look away… corn….corn…corn….” This is like Chinese Water Torture!

Hour 10.5 of 12: Dark now….with no more scenery, officially getting cabin fever….Seriously debating shattering this window (and probably my elbow in the process) to breathe something other than this circulated bus air.

8:30 p.m. We have reached the promised land! You’d think the hard part was over; Penn St here we come.

Out of Left Field: Illinois Softball Blog #4 (vs. Ohio State/Illinois State)

OHIO STATE SERIES:
Scribbling on my notebook yesterday….
“Days of School Left: 15. Big Ten Games Left: 14.”
Note to self: Don’t blink! It’ll be gone before you know it.

It’s no big secret. We’re in a conference race. We’ve had the best start of any Illini softball season in years, if not ever. We came off a major sweep on the road against Northwestern and face yet another crucial series with Ohio State at home. Yes, on the record, every game is as important as the next. But this is BIG TEN SEASON! These games are on a whole ‘nother level. The catch? The nights before these games are on a whole ‘nother level too.

It feels a lot like Christmas Eve- anxious and excited for the next day to come, often spurring insomnia. Except now, instead of tossing and turning next to my sister Heather asking “You think I’ll get that doll?” I’m calling home asking her “You think I’ll get that double?”

Calling home is crucial before a game. I leave it up to fate as to which of the four residents I get; it’s like Howell Roulette. Whoever picks up the phone I assume is Divine intervention giving me the advice I need for the day.
Dad: (inspiration) “This is your last year. Make them remember you. Pour it on!”
Mom: (perspective) “Oh, Hopie, you caught me on my way out. But we’re excited for the tailgate!”
Sister, Heather: (simplistic) “Hey buddy, just do what got you there.”
Brother, Joe: (humility) “Who cares? You still won’t be as good as me.”
Voicemail: “Hello, you have reached the Howells.” = O crap. Guess I’m flying solo today.

Game One:     Won, 3-2. Words cannot describe.
During one road trip (weeks before conference even started) the back of the bus wanted to make a goal to pitch to Sam Marder every time she got up to bat. Last year, when we actually tried to pitch to her, she hit a grand-slam. Needless to say we wanted her BAD this year. We all agreed that if we were going to do that, we would have to put up a massive amount of runs so that even if she did hit one out, it wouldn’t be the end-all. Well, our offense wasn’t as explosive as we had hoped it would be, so our defense had to pick up the slack. They had runners on almost every inning and our defense worked our way out. The kind of back-and-forth-edge-of-your-seat game that takes years off the fans’ lives as much as the players. We finally had to walk Marder, but when the next girl hit it to Hollie, she threw an amazing shot to Audi, picking the girl off and still giving us momentum for offense. Going into the bottom of the 7th, I put in another piece of gum thinking “Ok, we’re in for the long haul.” Acon’s second swing took her on her tippy toes she was swinging so hard. The next pitch- gone! Amazing.

Game Two       Again, much like with Northwestern, we knew they were going to come into the 2nd game much like we would if we had lost the first one: ticked off and driven. Our offense or pitching just wasn’t there, which is a rare occasion, and quite lethal when you depend on both as much as we do. However, because of this, our defense had to step up and force some outs. Ohio St was roping the ball, giving the outfield the most action we’ve seen all year. But as hard and deep as they were hitting them, we kept communicating, working quickly to keep them from tagging up and even had some great relays to pick them off. Acon and Hollie made some amazing plays going back and we all know now that Acon will gladly crash into a wall to get Marder out too. The game was so much closer than the final score.

Overall, we just couldn’t string hits together. We had some opportunities, but it seemed (I’ll put it delicately) that SOME PEOPLE IN BLUE- and I don’t mean Illini- either weren’t paying attention or simply wanted to hog the big, blinding “Big Ten Network” spotlight with superfluous calls. It was like Umpire-Tourette’s Syndrome.

To quote Obama, “Now, let me be clear:” I love our fans for arguing calls, expressing their dissatisfaction with the outcome of a call or the call’s existence in general. However, every time the officials huddle around and our fans go crazy in hopes of persuasion, I can’t help but think “You’re wasting your breath.”

I’ve held this theory for four years, and now, with an creative outlet- I feel obligated to declare it publically for our fan’s sanity. It has to be said, and I really hope our Sports Information Director doesn’t edit me on this, but we are literally the ONLY team in the conference who doesn’t have home cooking.

“Home Cooking” Function: noun. Pronunciation: (h m) + ( k k) + (iŋ)
Hope’s Dictionary Definition: Receiving (intentional or unintentional) special treatment by officials strictly on the basis of being the home team

Warning signs include:
* Area-code width strike zone on defense, microscopic strike zone on offense,
* Bam/Bam plays and tied plays in favor of home team with rejection to appeal
* Visiting team miraculously leaving early on tag-ups, lead offs and/or stepping out of box/ obstructing plays at least once an inning.
*official shows preferential treatment to home team/ blatant disregard for visiting team

Used in a sentence:
Visiting Fan: “What!? She did not leave early!”
Home Fan: “Mmm….smell that home cookin’…”

I’m sure y’all have all been to a game or two when a flagrant call has been made in favor of the home team. Mark my words: You’ll NEVER see it at Eichelberger Field. Ever. I have no idea why that is, but now you’ll think of me every time our team-despite being ON OUR HOME FIELD- is called out by some Section 8 (a)(iii) (3) rule in the book.

My favorite part is how WE $$ PAY $$ THEM TO DO THIS TO US… ridiculous. But, it’s not why we lost and I of course- as my grandmother would want me to- want to wish them good luck in their future umpiring endeavors; they’re going to need it when the Big Ten board reviews their performances (and salaries)


ILLINOIS STATE

Apparently they’ve been on a tear, going undefeated (10-0) in conference, and hadn’t lost since we last played them for our home opener, March 17th. The Redbirds probably thought they were going to kick us while we were down.

Advice: The best way to keep your winning streak after an Illini loss? Do a rain dance.
I mean, did they see what we did to Loyola after we lost to Oklahoma State!? I’m actually surprised those girls didn’t sneak down to the field, turn on the sprinklers and flood their field. But no, they actually went through with the game- and paid for it.

The dugout at Illinois State was…conflicting. On one hand, we had first class treatment. Their staff greeted us, gave us pink socks to support their breast cancer awareness night and even supplied a cooler stocked with bottled Aquafina for us. On the other hand, we were swatting hornets and shaking spiders out of our helmets every inning. Because Illinois State’s mascot is the Redbirds, their dugout boasts a big sign above, saying “THE BIRDHOUSE.” I seriously thought about grabbing one of our trainer’s towels and hanging up a sign saying “THE SPIDERWEB.” Audi then said she was going to jack one out of the park and toss birdseed at them as she trotted by third base. Hilarious. Maybe you had to be there...

Now, during the four years I’ve been here, Illinois has always been an offensive team. But this year is like NO OTHER. How do I know?
Reason #1 Our pregame for example. We split into four groups and split a bucket of balls to bunt between 4-5 girls. Lefties get no special treatment. Half of the buckets thrown are balls because the pitchers haven’t warmed up yet. When the buckets are empty, Coach sees the majority of the balls at the back stop, the others foul with maybe four decent bunts actually making it to the field.
Coach Sullivan: “Ok, looks good. Let’s go!”
*Translation: “Ok, enough pretending. Get in the cages.”

Reason #2 Our dugout. You know you’re an offensive team when you haven’t gotten a hit in 4 at bats (or reached base in two plate appearances) and the first thing you hear in the box is “C’mon Hope! You’re due!” Seriously, guys? I can't imagine what it's like to be Z.

To say the least, the Redbirds were pumped to play us. It was definitely the largest crowd I’ve ever seen there. Then they brought out this gigantic bronze bird head- you read right. A giant bird’s head. I turned to Hollie. “Aww, cute,” I said. “They have a gimmick.”

When they announced the starting lineup, each girl would high five the team, then kiss/touch the bird head before taking the field. Yikes. I couldn’t help but be reminded of the golden calf. Did Exodus teach you guys nothing? It didn’t work for them and it’s not going to work for you.

Because Illinois State would be wearing pink jerseys, Coach DiBiase said we were allowed to ditch the orange and wear whatever pink accessories-headbands, sweatbands, etc.- we wanted. I –probably to my mother’s shame- don’t own anything pink, so I wasn’t sporting anything. Jackie then came up to me and said I could have a pink headband if I didn’t mind it being so tight. Apparently some other girls had tried it on and it said it was like an instant facelift. Not wanting to be “that goth girl” in a sea of pink, I relented.

Apparently, the quickest way to get back into your offensive groove is to cut off all the oxygen to your brain; if you’re too busy thinking about how much the headband hurts, you’re not guessing pitches or doubting yourself. The ball resembled a beach ball and I looked at each pitcher hearing Kelley’s voice screaming (as she does when she’s on a roll) “I’m in your HEAD!!” I even got walked, which Coach DiBiase thinks was intentional, which was a compliment, yet startling, seeing as how I almost swung at the 2nd pitch.…(guess I’ll find out when I get to Heaven). Needless to say I avoided Jackie, just in case she hadn’t learned her lesson from Mizzou and decided to shout “Hey guys, Hope’s batting 1.000 tonight!”

Favorite part of the night: Hollie sticking it out, despite lacking that annoying and insignificant accessory we call an ANKLE. Whoever thinks this means you don’t need an ankle to play, think again. You definitely do. She’s just doing it without one! I swear, pain that would bring a Hell’s Angel to his knees doesn’t make Hollie blink. You could tell she was in pain, but she never complained, placing the ball in the perfect spot to get us the first RBI we needed to bust the game wide open. After that, Mer Bear hit a double and the deal was sealed.

*In the 7th, we knew Hollie’s ankle was dun-zo for the night and I told Z “We don’t need no stinking Hollie to get a run!” And what’dya know- Z hit a double and I singled to get her in. We knew Hollie woulda put herself in the hospital for that RBI if she had to, but sometimes it’s nice to spare your buddy one less gray hair, or in this case, a stress fracture.

I know this is going to sound like a broken record after what the college paper printed and after what Coach Sullivan said in the huddle, but Moni had one of her best outings last night, and definitely her best relief effort this season. I told her I can remember being at Stanford, and Acon telling me “Ok, Aud says Moni wants to use her change up more this game.” The outfield, not knowing what to expect from a pitch she rarely threw, was like “*Sigh.. ok, let’s just be ready.” And now, that change up is her bread and butter. Whenever Vaji gives me the sign for it, I know the whole defensive unit is licking their chops to see that s-l-o-w arc and a pretty entertaining swing from that poor girl who has no clue what’s about to happen. Moni faced 13 batters in 4 innings-even their big, bad #3 batter (who hit a foul home run) wasn’t too cocky for long when Moni started throwing her junk pitches. Aud and I were talking about it on the way home. “After that, we threw it in the dirt, then we threw it in the SKY!” she exclaimed. “Game over.”

P.S. Great game. Illinois State win streak over. The pink headband stays.

Out of Left Field: Illinois Softball Blog #3

INDIANA STATE

Sorry, but can’t say much about the Indiana State game that you readers don’t already know, seeing as how I had to watch the game online, from my deathbed. It’s so obvious that some Indiana State super fan made a Hope voodoo doll and poked its stomach with needles all this week. But I now join in the Illini parents’ frustration with delayed Game Tracker; the website kept rejecting my credit card, so I couldn’t even watch it streamlined. I even tried using the “Howell” credit card (meant specifically for emergencies and Hope’s plane tickets home) to no avail. But the show must go on, and we wrapped it up without any problem.

As far as Easter weekend goes, I spent it with my family- yea, the orange one. Freshman year, I was in Minnesota. Sophomore year, I was in California. Junior year, Ohio State. And this year? Good ‘old Chi town.

NORTHWESTERN

Game One: The first couple of innings made it appear like our teams were matched pretty well. Ha, our bad. In one huddle, Coach said our offense was far too good to let a pitcher walk so many of us and not pay for it. Their outfield was playing shallow and had good arms, which kept us from taking two bases at a time. That’s why it seriously was a team effort- everyone in the lineup had to hit. It looked kind of like a video game to be honest. One person would get to first, and the runners would rotate spots. Repeat 300 times. Again, like Loyola, just because the 7th is the last inning is no excuse to have a quick one. We scored 7 runs; it was awesome to have Northwestern make yet another pitching change, with no one in the bullpen- Checkmate.

After the game, I made my bimonthly phone call home to wish my family “Happy Easter.” My Dad asked how I planned to worship on Sunday. Our convo:

Me: I have a game.
Dad: Well, I know, but I meant after.
Oh, Dad, you just don’t understand. Softball IS how I worship. And not even really in a “Softball is my gift, I worship God by playing,” way, but a batter with a 3-2 count with bases loaded will find God quicker in the batter’s box than in some stuffy church.

* TANGENT: This weekend, we stayed in the same hotel as the Ohio State baseball team. Some (I’m assuming high school) girls in the lobby were just swooning at these boys with squeaky clean hats. I wanted soooo badly to educate them on Baseball Hat Interpretation 101. Show me the boy’s hat and I can tell you about the player. I don’t care how handsome the dude looks, his flat brimmed, bright red hat might as well be a neon sign blinking “I DON’T PLAY.” I’d prefer the owner of a faded hat, with a bent bill and tie-dyed with electrolytes. Those are the guys you want! Bonus points if hikes his socks like Mickey Mantle.

NORTHWESTERN (EASTER)

Easter Sunday was perfect. Warm, breezy, and surrounded by loved ones. Hand in hand with your teammates, singing the national anthem, playing the game you love- regardless of one’s religious views- how can you not feel incredibly blessed? Maybe I’m just sentimental because it’s the first morning in about six days where I didn’t feel nauseated and could eat more than toast and water.

Acon truly stepped up for us the last game. Not only did she score two runs for us to get us on the board, but I haven’t seen that great of a catch since…well, since her Illinois State grab. Now, outfielders are blessed with an inherent gift to know a triple when they see one. We were playing the girl so shallow, as soon as she hit it, I thought-as I’m sure many people did- “guaranteed triple.” But before I could get “Back!” out of my mouth, Acon had already leaped in the air, snagging that screamer. Incredible, especially with the wind factor. Unfortunately, they rallied after, and scored 3. Two of my fingernails are shorter cuz of that inning, but no harm done. It just made us come back harder.

Over all, you have to give credit to the pitchers for shutting down one of the biggest offenses in the Big Ten. Batts and Monka are forces to be reckoned with, but I’d put my money on our pitchers any day of the week. Last time Batts was up, Acon said when she played against her in high school, she saw Batts hit a line drive back to a pitcher that “shattered” the girl’s arm. After Hollie’s and my jaw dropped, and after a much-deserved moment of silence for that poor girl, I joked saying if that happened today, the way Moni was throwing, the ball would merely ricochet off her titanium arm. Acon added that the ball would probably ricochet into Mer’s glove for the out.

Both wins were crucial, for our season, the seniors and the program. It was the first time Ash Bob, Bailey or I had ever won on that field, let alone swept it. Coach Sullivan said she thinks it was the first time Illinois had won on that field since 2004.

How to celebrate!?! As always, food! But wait- what could possibly be open on Easter? Enter Panda Express.

*Before I go, a quick shout out to the Illini nation- thank you for rivaling the number of Northwestern fans this weekend. And while we have the best fans in the world, Illini softball parents are particularly a rare breed. I feel as though players and parents share an unspoken bond. We may have never even met before, but after hearing about them from teammates, I feel as if I know them; and I’m sure after watching games or hearing horror stories about the upperclassmen, they feel like they know me. Parents who attend our games have possibly the most pivotal role of all: cheerfulness. It’s like a game, “Who’s parents are coming today?” They’re always energetic, happy, and what’s even better- they come bearing gifts! Our wonderful parents stocked our bus full of Easter goodies from chocolate covered pretzels to buckets of snickers (no exaggeration on the bucket). We may win the games, but they boost the morale. And as a player whose parents are 700 miles away, I am forever indebted.