{{In case you didn't know, I was a softball player my whole life, from age 6 through college at the University of Louisville ('08-'12), and right now the Women's College World Series in wrapping up with Florida and Michigan competing for the national championship.}}
The article brought tears to my eyes for more than one reason.
When I was 9, I played travel softball with a girl named Megan. She was the sweetest girl who I really looked up to. Kind to everyone. Full of love and positive energy. So passionate about the sport and ALWAYS gave her all. She was the kid every coach loves having on their team and every parent wants their kid to be friends with. We became great friends and she inspired me to run a little faster, cheer a little louder, and stay positive after a strikeout.
I'll never forget the day my parents told me she had cancer. We were about to leave our house to go to our end of season party, and they sat me down on the couch, both kneeled in front of me and explained, as cautiously as they could, the situation.
We held fundraisers, we prayed, we tried to act as normal as possible whenever we were around her even though we were terrified. I remember sneaking onto our computer to read the email updates from her parents. The fact that the memories of writing songs together and singing them in the car, playing in the horrendous heat for hours on end, and that our friendship would be coming to an end was really hard for me to deal with.
After her memorial service about a year later, all I can remember is bawling my eyes out uncontrollably in the backseat of the car, my parents doing their best to console me but my heart was shattered. And from that moment on all I wanted was to play to honor her.
I changed my number to hers- 25 for the rest of my softball days. When moments got tough during a game, practice, or workout, I thought about how much heart and hustle she would give, how much harder she would push. She inspired me my entire career, even through my years playing at University of Louisville, and I was humbled and proud to wear that number on my jersey and do my best to carry on her legacy.
The article brought tears to my eyes for more than one reason.
When I was 9, I played travel softball with a girl named Megan. She was the sweetest girl who I really looked up to. Kind to everyone. Full of love and positive energy. So passionate about the sport and ALWAYS gave her all. She was the kid every coach loves having on their team and every parent wants their kid to be friends with. We became great friends and she inspired me to run a little faster, cheer a little louder, and stay positive after a strikeout.
I'll never forget the day my parents told me she had cancer. We were about to leave our house to go to our end of season party, and they sat me down on the couch, both kneeled in front of me and explained, as cautiously as they could, the situation.
We held fundraisers, we prayed, we tried to act as normal as possible whenever we were around her even though we were terrified. I remember sneaking onto our computer to read the email updates from her parents. The fact that the memories of writing songs together and singing them in the car, playing in the horrendous heat for hours on end, and that our friendship would be coming to an end was really hard for me to deal with.
After her memorial service about a year later, all I can remember is bawling my eyes out uncontrollably in the backseat of the car, my parents doing their best to console me but my heart was shattered. And from that moment on all I wanted was to play to honor her.
I changed my number to hers- 25 for the rest of my softball days. When moments got tough during a game, practice, or workout, I thought about how much heart and hustle she would give, how much harder she would push. She inspired me my entire career, even through my years playing at University of Louisville, and I was humbled and proud to wear that number on my jersey and do my best to carry on her legacy.
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