Hit the Cut-Off Man! 

I get to pile into a van tomorrow at 5AM and drive several hundred miles to play in a softball tournament held in the middle of nowhere…

…and…I’m excited about it!

Softball was invented in the Windy City, and when you’re a little girl from the Chicago burbs, you’re practically required to play fast pitch in the summer.

It’s on the checklist of life for 13-year-old girls:
Embrace horrifying trends in hair and fashion …check
Maximize social awkwardness in presence of opposite sex…check
Play summer softball…check

There were three main reasons that I stopped playing competitive softball…

1. It was the same season as track. ‘Nuff said.
2. I didn’t like getting yelled at for screwing up.

And if you’ve been paying attention, you’ll recognize that the third reason closely follows the 2nd…

3. I screwed up a lot.

Being on some of the all-star teams and traveling squads made me so nervous that I couldn’t sleep at night. I didn’t want to let people down. What a horrible feeling that was for a little girl.

So much has changed (especially my hair, for which I am truly grateful)!

With my age and wisdom in these past 13 years, I’ve screwed up a lot. Believe me…


…in every conceivable way that you can imagine.

I’ve become intimately familiar with failure, and we’re not BFF, but we see each other every once in a while. No biggie.

I just wish I could go back and tell 13-year-old Kerry not to worry. I’d tell her that in 13 years, she’ll be a gorgeous woman with an ass that just won’t quit. …and that none of her major successes or failures in life thus far have had anything to do with hitting the cut-off man.

Wish us luck.


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