Nearly everyone can recognize the bright yellow, palm-sized spheres that has become known as softballs. You can find them strewn across a gigantic dirt field, accompanied by leather gloves and shiny bats, or dashing through the air as girls - and sometimes boys - hurl them across the field toward their target. To some, they are nothing more than a toy to be thrown and caught but I see them as a symbol to a game of true skill. A softball is something that sticks to my memory like glue on paper. It's smooth surface slides underneath my finger, interrupted by the red stitching that holds it together. The feeling of a new softball, is similar to the feeling on gets when they wake up: refreshed and renewed; ready to start. Sunlight gleams its reflection of the shiny surface as it is held in my palm.
When it's time to throw a pitch, I feel the laces find traction with my fingertips as a shift it from its resting position. I tighten my grip around the treasured ball, placing my fingers around the top laces and begin my motion. When I release the ball perfectly at my hip, the laces spin out of my hand, while the smooth surface rushes off my fingertips towards its destination. The game has begun.
- Alicia Farmer
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