I still remember the first time I stepped out onto the light green turf field. The smell of sunflower seeds and sweat filled the morning air. I was 12 years old; my first year of middle school. I had only been playing softball for two years, but my dad had signed me up for Eastern’s Softball All Skills Camp.

   The day was full of intimidating smiles from older, players that towered over me, but that didn’t stop me from playing as hard as I could.

   The first day the turf was under my feet was a dream come true. High school couldn’t come fast enough ― the sooner I got to feel the turf under my cleats, the better.

   My softball life would start on that turf. The green alternative grass held my future in its blades and I couldn’t help but picture myself, number 33 on my back.

   In 2018, I entered the freshman softball team just as I had dreamt four years ago. The turf was just as I remembered but the team had changed. Since so few freshman girls were interested in joining the team, the coaches had a difficult time filling all of these positions. Instead of the minimum 12 players for a regulation game, the Eastern’s freshman softball  team only had 10. Because of these low numbers, a catcher and an outfielder were missing from the team.  This was nothing like what I had imagined. In my daydreams, I hit high home runs and slid into home at ease. Yet my dreams no longer ended with the team carrying me off the field, because we lacked a team. I had to change my dreams to be geared for the team’s success and not my own.

   So one Saturday practice, I decided to step up and talk to my coach about the problem our less-than-a-team will soon face. “Excuse me, Coach Worth? I just wanted to let you know that I can catch for us if needed. I’ve never done it before but I’m willing to try.

  “Yeah E-V!” said Coach.

   But the most interesting aspect, is that the varsity coach then learned my name.

  “You’ll catch?” said Stags.

  I was surprised when she turned.

   “Yeah like I said, I’ve never done it before but…” my voice trailed off anxiously.

   “We can probably get you the gear you’ll need,” she said before turning to her assistant coach, discussing the possibility of getting me some used catching equipment. In an instant, the varsity coach knew who I was. That moment would cause for me to go up to JV games and even selected varsity practices.

   The confidence I possessed in the sport began to drop. All I knew was third base —if the count is 3-0, I can move back, the batter most likely won’t bunt, if the catcher picks up dirt with her left hand, she’s throwing down, etc. Yet now I had to learn the ins and outs of a position. I had never played catcher before but it would grow to be my new favorite position.

   My coach taught me all he knew about being a catcher. The varsity players even gave me their own tips and tricks on how to be successful in the position. Once I understood what do to behind the plate, I didn’t want to return to the hot corner of third.

   The thrilling turf taught me that life is only made of the risks you take.