Fouls, Fielders, Fashion and Fans

My cute little branch is currently in the "softball-overload" phase of the summer, wherein we have 7-stake YSA softball on Tuesdays, stake softball on Thursdays, and various other softball related practices and FHEs scattered throughout the rest of the week.

The softball-overload phase is a normal part of Branch life, regularly falling between the early summer "service project overload" and the midsummer "boating activity overload", and usually results in a few superficial hanstring injuries and a handful of mildly serious intra-branch romances (both of which, coincidentally, can be successfully treated with ice and slow walks around the adjacent ward building) . But this post isn't about ball field action, it is about something with much more important implications: FASHION.

Of course, when I started mind-mapping this post, fashion was not on my literary radar. Originally, I set out to take pictures to illustrate a post about "Branch Ball", the cool name that Melissa came up with to describe the objective-mutilated, rule-mangled "sport" our branch "plays" when there aren't players from actual wards around to keep us honest.

My original post was going to start out with this picture of Brother Roskelly, one half of our beloved missionary couple, trying to organize our motley crew into two teams.

Then I was going to move on to this photo that totally summed up the feelings of my fellow bleacher bums in regards to the prospect of actually, you know, catching and batting and (shudder) running. Seriously...I could have sliced up this group photo into individual portraits and written full paragraphs explaining the thoughts behind each facial expression. That was the plan.

And then Tricia showed up and my train of thought jumped from the catcher's box to the catwalk. Here's how it happened: Tricia, lifeguard-by-morning/hairdresser-extraordinaire-by-afternoon/swim-instructor-by-evening, arrived at the softball field directly from the pool and promptly began lamenting about how her still damp swimming suit under her capris gave casual observers the impression that she could use a copy of the "WeeMinder Potty Training System" (only $19.99 on Amazon!) . Then Tricia said something to the effect of, "I wish I could just wear a giant sign that told people that it just looks like I wet my pants because I just came from the swimming pool."

To which the always delightfully observant Melissa replied, "Ummm...you kinda are."

And just like that (picture, if you will, a quick snap of my fingers) , my focus went from full counts to fashionable clothing.

For example, my inner Project Runway judge adored that the pitcher and catcher for team "Parke" were wearing matching shirts. Accident of fate? Trick of the fashion gods? Or the result of carefully exchanged Facebook messaging? Like the 'Miracle on the Hudson', we may never understand how it happened, we just need to be thankful that it did.

My emerging fashonista persona also briefly merged with my long-repressed desire to be the Channel Five weather girl and noticed how the wardrobe choices of various team members reflected Idaho's ever-changing weather patterns. Some people wore long pants and sweat shirts, others played in shorts and T's. And some wise players, like newly-discovered softball-prodigy Krystal, went with long sleeves and short pants. A uniform for all seasons, so that only one half of her body could get sunburned and/or frostbit during the course of the game.

The choice to embrace or reject headgear also intrigued me as I watched the game, and a closer inspection of the photos later on led to an interesting discovery. It turns out, guys who hold Priesthood leadership positions are more likely to wear hats during softball games. I'm not sure, however, if the choice to wear a hat is related to priesthood leader's increase in maturity or decrease in hairlines. Further research is needed to know for sure.

As a female, I am firmly aware that footwear is a focal point of fashion finding. I was very impressed that several of the branch boys had come prepared with sports-appropriate shoes.

But I was even more impressed with the number of branch gals who went sans-shoe for the entire game. They played well and proved an important point:

Pink toenail polish can do just as much for your game skills as steroids, without all of the harmful side effects. Major-leaguers take note!

Now, please don't think that our collective branch focus on ball field fashion has anything to do with the fact that we are a "singles" branch and our last two Sunday school lessons have not-so-delicately reminded us that participation the New and Everlasting Covenant of Marriage is necessary to book reservations in the highest suites of Celestial existence.

No!

We don't dress to impress potential eternal companions!

We dress to impress our fans.

Our fans who are at the field to watch us play every day, rain or shine. Wind or, slightly less wind (this is Idaho, after all) .

Let me introduce you to our biggest fans....They really are quite vocal...

"Moooo!"

"See girls, I knew she would get tagged out if she tried to milk that double for a triple!"
"Wow! Look at the way that guy can hoof it around those bases!"

"Ouch! That line drive just smacked the poor kid in the calf !"

"Can you believe the way the "Avenue' team is trash talking? That is udderly uncalled for!"

"Look at the score! The 'Parke' team is so far behind only bovine intervention can save them now!"

"Is the umpire blind?!? ! That call was bull-oni!!!"

At this point you might be asking yourself, "Was this whole post just one really, really LONG setup for a bunch of stupid cow puns?"

And my answer to you would be, "Like the 'Miracle on the Hudson', we may never know why this happened, we just need to be thankful that it did.