#107 – Making A Diving Play

EDMONDSThis one goes out to all the ballers out there, grinding on the playgrounds of America and just hoping (praying) for that one chance. That one opportunity to make a play.

Nay, not just any play.

A sprinting, diving, full-extension, game-on-the-line-and-the-outcome-actually-means-something-and-you’re-not-just-diving-because-you-got-a-late-break-or-want-to-show-off-but-because-you-really-had-to-dive-to-get-it diving play.

That’s the stuff dreams are made of. Hell, the only real reason I still play softball with friends any longer is so that maybe, perhaps once a summer, a ball will randomly be hit to an area on the field just far enough away that I can’t get to it easily but close enough where I can still get to it if I put (whatever I now consider) max effort in.

At this age, I’d still even consider a half-slide, half-dive to be equal to this feeling. It’s great because it’s rare, sure, but it’s also great because it’s the same athletic excellence-feeling as dunking—something most (read: all) of us will never (ever) do.

Polar Opposite of this Feeling?: Watching the ball go flying past you before you hit the grass/dirt and totally whiff on the catch, letting not only your team, but your entire extended family down in the process.

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