As this column is being written, I am sitting in Row 9 on the team bus traveling to the Ontario Airport, heading out to the second tournament in our College Tour. We have just completed our first stop on our Road to Athens, and are en route to Columbus, GA for stop number two. The team looked solid this past weekend in Palm Springs, but unfortunately, I was on the DL for the trip and was unable to play.

To make a long story short, I had foot surgery two weeks ago, and am still on the mend. I expect to be playing within another couple of weeks, but until that day comes, I am going absolutely stir-crazy. Up to this point in my life, I have had the luxury of being on the field almost every game, now I struggle to find ways to help out and to feel like I am valuable in some way.

When you are on the bench with an injury, it definitely affords you a chance to see things in a different light. I find that I am much more sensitive to how my teammates are feeling, good and bad, and the mood of the game. As a somewhat disconnected observer, I can feel the energy (or lack thereof) more easily, and can read my teammates’ body language much better.

As I sat in the dugout this weekend, watching my teammates perform in front of hundreds of people, I realized how much I love this game. I realized how much I thrive on the competitive juices that flow during a game, any game, and how much I love the camaraderie I feel for those I do battle with. True, an injured teammate is still a teammate, but it doesn’t feel like it for that person who is sitting and watching on the sidelines. I found myself thinking of those players I have played with in the past who played on only rare occasions; I understand their pain at playing limited innings.

But I also think that the type of "not playing" I am experiencing is different: I cannot play. At the current time, I am physically unable to play the game of softball. Team USA is preparing to head over to Athens, Greece to defend our Gold Medal, and I am stuck on the sidelines, nursing my injury. I feel like when the time comes for me to be back on the field I will be behind the eight ball; I will be weeks behind every other player preparing to compete in the Olympic Games.

And while this thought is difficult, it is also motivating. It makes me even hungrier to play again, and is the first thought that pops into my mind when I wake up and head to my own training regiment: the idea that I have extra work to get done, that I am getting a late start, and that the rest of the softball world is busy preparing to beat the USA. I am limited in what I am able to do at this time, but am busting my tail doing what it is that I can do.

I feel very confident that while it will take some time for me to get back into the full swing of physical softball action once I am released to play, I will be mentally prepared. I may be unable to execute every softball skill right now, but I can play a "mental movie" any time I choose. I can take myself back to games, practices, at-bats and pitches from my softball past.
At this point in time, my imagination is the only way I can "play" the game of softball. I can watch and observe details of the game from the bench, but only have my mind to execute skills and hit home runs! I’ll be busy working hard getting back on the field, but until my body gives me the okay, I’ll be dreaming about that Gold Medal in August in Athens.