I miss scraped knee's. Bloodied elbows and dirt everywhere. Pushing yourself up when all you wanna do is quit. Bruised hands, fast balls galore, but most of all the thrill.
Watching as the balls flys out, mask falling down. The shouts. The voice dominant. Precise. Ahh i miss that thrill.
Musings of a mind on softball
No comments:
Post a Comment