Injuries often come at the most inconvenient times. It was raining, and my pitcher was warming up. Ask any catcher, and they will probably tell you there are some circumstances where they don’t wear their mask. This was one of those circumstances. Someone called my name, and I turned my head. When I wasn’t looking, my pitcher wound up and pitched. The ball travels fast, and while my reaction time might be quick, it isn’t that quick.

BAM! All of a sudden, everything went black for a hot second.

I stood up and opened my eyes. In shock, I turned and yelled my pitcher’s name. She rushed towards me, and I did no know what was happening. I turned to see my coaches and teammates all rushing towards me with concerned looks on their faces.

I looked down and saw blood draining from my nose. In a panic, my coach saw my mom in the car and called her very loudly to get her attention. My mom, worried about what happened, came out to see me with gray catcher’s gear on and a huge pool of something at my feet.

She rushed my way while I stood with my head cocked out from my body, making sure I wouldn’t get anything on my brand-new uniform. We were at a faraway tournament and had no clue where anything was around us, so we put the nearest hospital into our GPS and rushed there.

When we got there, they told me my nose had been broken in two different places and that it was going to be very swollen and very colorful. They were right. Later that night, my nose had tripled in size compared to that morning. They were not kidding. My face was so swollen, and it was starting to turn different colors. I ended up having to go to my ENT, who told me that she couldn’t stop me from playing and that my nose wouldn’t have a big effect on softball activities. They didn’t have to set it, which meant I didn’t need surgery, as long as I wore my mask from now on.

I may have gotten lucky, but watching my team play while I sat in a hospital bed, worried that my season might be over, was incredibly tough. But my season wasn’t over yet. Just because I went back to playing didn’t mean that it had no effect on how I played or my mentality towards the game, the effect this had on me changed everything about how I played, how careful I became, and How I re-adjusted to playing.

My second hard spot in this sport was this past season. It was a normal practice; I went into it thinking it was just going to be a fine practice, but I went home that night with a fractured thumb.

I was hitting off a machine, doing everything I was supposed to when I swung on an inside pitch that rolled off my barrel onto my handle and chipped the bone right next to my growth plates.

I kept hitting after it happened because that was what I was instructed to do. Then I tried to throw a ball; I released it, and it went a total of two feet. The ball felt completely lopsided in my hand, and I couldn’t grip it. I was out for seven weeks, but I still had to go to every single tournament and practice. I was mentally ruined for this sport, and my confidence was completely shot. I was in a cast for six weeks and then came back as soon as I could. Overall, it is the sport I love. It was very mentally and physically difficult to sit and watch my teammates play a sport that I have put an endless amount of hours into, and I constantly questioned why this happened to me. Watching from the sidelines, I felt a mix of frustration and helplessness. But it changed my view of the sport and taught me to never take it for granted, as well as to get everything you can out of it because you never know when the last time you play will be.

Not being able to play the sport I love has shown me that while playing is important, showing up for my teammates and cherishing the small moments is what truly matters because that is what will turn those moments into memories