Francesca Maxime: the new Mets pitcher?!
So...
In High School I played tennis and field hockey. I never tried softball. Never once. I was always too afraid of that hard ball coming towards me and the big black eye I might get if I failed to crack bat to ball.
However, for some reason unbeknownst to me, I agreed, when The NET/Currents asked me to throw out the first pitch for the Brooklyn Cyclones game at Keyspan Park on Coney Island. I had no glove, no ball, no coach, no training: basically, I had no idea what I was doing.
About a month ago, I lucked out: I was scheduled to throw, along with Marky Ramone of the band the Ramones. But, it poured cats and dogs, and we got washed out. And so, last night was my "make up."
I'd elicited some tips from friends over the past several weeks: 3 finger grip, coil and unwind aroud the shoulder, step into the throw, even cheat the mound. I even logged onto a pitching website and watched MLB big timers throw the ball again and again, in hopes of absorbing some of their skill somehow.
But it wasn't until last night around a half hour before the game was to start, that I got handed a nice new ball and gingerly walked up to one of the guys in the red shirts and asked them if they could help me throw a couple. Bobby agreed. He walked me over to the batting cage, and started about half the distance of what I'd be asked to throw. He said I wasn't bad. Asked me to aim a little higher. Then Jake stepped in and said he liked the extra step and hop I was putting into my thrust: it generated more power. Then Bobby told me to inch back... and inch back more... and before I knew it, I was throwing pitches from the batting cage mound. And pretty decent ones!!
When it was time for the real thing, I didn't even hear my name being called. I tossed off my sunglasses (Dolce and Gabbanas-thanks Alexa of Cyclones Marketing for catching them) and ran onto the field.
I felt all these eyes on me: so this is the pressure, I suppose, of what it's like to be a pro athlete. To perform under pressure, for a living.
So I loosened up a bit, took a deep breath, coiled and released, and watched the ball come two inches away from Bobby's glove.
Oyyy... I was a little disappointed. I wanted to hear the slap of that catch. And yet, it really wasn't a bad throw overall. Not for how much I'd practiced, and not for how little I knew about the game.
After it was over, there was some applause and then some young'ins took to the mound. And did better than me (no surprise there).
But from what I've been told, the Mets could use a good pitcher right about now. So maybe I'll ask them to take me to training camp in the spring.
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