The game of her life.

She steps onto the field; the clouds of dirt, covering the ground.
Equipment bag; full of old, worn-out batting gloves, two bats; one being composite, a batting helmet; all of this pulling down on her right shoulder.
With muddy, size 9 cleats, she walks towards the dugout.

This is her home, this is her life.
And she knows it.

She knows that this will get her places in life.
This is her dream; to be on the field all day, crushing balls over a fence, running the bases; with her friends of course.

It all started when she was a little girl, around the ago of 6.
Her favorite uncle got her a glove and a bat for her birthday.

Now she’s older; more powerful; more aggressive on the field.

Where ever the coach puts her for the game, that’s her job.
Now go do your job.

The other team might have childhood friends on it;
but on the field, they are mortal enemies.

Softball; the game of the girls who aren’t afraid to get hurt, to get dirty, to get fierce and competitive.

The game that she calls her life.

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