Photo: Kate shows off her guns. Photo credit: Dane Robison.I watched from the periphery, separated from all the she-jocks by a chain-link fence.
"C'mon, Jenn!" Kate encouraged a teammate.
A woman on the opposing team swings the bat. The ball pops up, and the third baseman — Lauren is her name — shouts, "Mine!" She makes a run for it, but she trips over the base and, just as gravity grounds her, she instinctively tucks her chin and rolls with the fall.
"Did anybody see that?" Lauren asks, embarrassed.
"Everybody saw that!" Kate teases from the outfield. Laughter follows. I want to be part of it all.
Another ball pops up and flies toward center left.
"Got it," Kate says and charges forward. She positions herself just under the ball. It falls into her open mitt, and with perfect timing, Kate sends the ball to second for two outs!
The all-female softball team is sponsored by Buddies Bar & Grill in East Lansing. Although the players' ages range from the mid-20s to early 50s, together they share an incredible camaraderie that transcends the divisiveness that generally marks one generation from another — the reward of years of working together as a team.
Kate comes running in off the field, and stops to give me a hug.
"You made it!" she squeals, delighted.
"Of course," I say, just as delighted.
"See Sheila out there?" she asks, pointing toward an attractive short-haired blond woman who throws like a dude. Impressive.
"She's got a phenomenal arm," I observed.
"She thinks you're hot," Kate grins mischievously.
"Yeah? Well, too bad for her, I'm a took woman," I joke. Kate hyucks it up, then trots off to take her place on deck.
When it's her turn to bat, she saunters up to the plate and eyeballs the lay of the land.
"Hey, batter, batter, swing, batter!" the opposing team heckles, but she's oblivious as she waits for the one ball with her name written all over it. The pitcher doesn't disappoint, and Kate nails it for a triple.
Off the field, she flexes her muscles and sneers, "Hey, check out the gun show!" Raucous, tinny laughter and catcalls erupt from the bench occupied by her teammates.
She giggles, bats her eyelashes and flashes a smile — one that belongs to a winner.
You and your guns ... you go, girl.
