"This game taught me to pitch, not throw; in life and on the mound" -Randy Johnson

Hi my loves! How was your weekend? Mine was good. Saturday night Wilma and I went to the grocery store for Mom. It was pretty fun. Wilma helped me read the Swedish food list. We got everything we needed, and of course when we passed the candy aisle I let Wilma get whatever she wanted. It’s the “Aunt Bernadette” in me. I’m not complaining though. On the way home from the games on Saturday I was asking questions about honking in Sweden. Everyone in the car was explaining how it is rude to honk, and it is very, very rare to use the horn. Well on the way home from the food store, I decided to try it out. In my head I curious how “rare” it really was. So naturally there are a lot of people on the bike trails along the road and such. (Due to the fact that people in Sweden actually walk, bike, and inline for transportation purposes) So, as I am passing the first couple, I honk. Wilma gives me the “what in God’s name are you doing” look, but because she doesn’t speak much English and I don’t speak much Swedish I just smile and continue driving…until I come along the next group of teens. I honk about three times, and Wilma sticks her head out the window waves at them and starts hysterically laughing. We continued to do this the entire way home. We couldn’t breathe we were laughing so hard. So we come in, she hides her candy I got her, and we sit down for dinner. Wilma was telling them about our adventure, and come to find out…the reason Swede’s don’t use the horn often is because it is illegal! Ha- you can get fined and ticketed for using the horn in the city. Is that not hilarious? Here Wilma and I probably horned about 10-12 times. No wander she looked at me like I shot her dog the first time I did it. Oh well! It was so fun.



Well, maybe you are wandering about the games. I pitched the first game Saturday. I did a good job. Worked my favorite pitches; rise and screw ball. Shut out game. Going in to this weekend I knew that it could possibly be my last game to throw. (Semi-finals is best out of 3, and American’s can only pitch the first game) Well anyways, when I was pitching, I was just relaxed, and from time to time I would think about things: I would think about Summer ball, driving to Houston at 3 AM for practice at 9, working in the mirror, seeing my Dad in the press box in high school, thinking about my Mom’s color coordinated outfits, hearing my Dad tell me “You’re way ahead, be smart”, throwing in the cul-de-sac, crying when until I got the white Pony cleats I wanted, getting recruited for college, hitting my Dad in the shins because I wasn’t strong enough to pitch all the way to home plate, my Mom’s coolers loaded with my favorite snacks for in between games, my grandfather buying me hot dogs and always wearing a hat representing my team, I could go on forever. The things this game has allowed me to do become and experience is far more important than any final score. I walked to the back of the mound knowing this screw ball could be my last screw ball to throw: I threw it at her hand and hard, and as she swung and missed, I ran off the field, and for ONCE I felt like Randy Johnson…the major league pitcher I used to imagine myself as when I threw to my dad in the cul-de-sac. My dad had me watch his games, and we would analyze his pitches, how he got ahead, how he was composed, how he was a leader. At that time I was just 9 years old. And now at 22, I ran off the field, gave everyone a high five, and felt like I lost my best friend. You don’t realize how an object like a softball can make such an impact. That 12 inch ball has brought me some of the best relationships, taught me hard work, cut my fingers, made me cry, made me smile, and it became my “comfort” and my absolute best friend. I think it will move on, and hopefully change some other girl’s life the way it has changed mine!


I’m sure you can guess that we lost the next two games. When I took my cleats off on Sunday I saw the purple toe nail that I have had for 5 years from pitching, and the worn cleats from throwing screw balls, and I felt good about it. I felt like no one could take away what that field and I had shared the last 15 years. It was cool. If you were a part of my softball career, thanks!


Anyways, so that was the weekend. Here Monday is…I woke up, and got to talk to my very dear and beautiful friend Nina. For those of you who don’t know, Nina is two years older than me and played for Towson as well. She kind of took me under her wing when I was a rookie in college. She’s one of my best friends, and we both do a good job of keeping in touch. We got to catch up this morning. It was past her bed time in California, but she couldn’t sleep. We always pick up right where we left off. It’s so refreshing to have a healthy conversation! She just got accepted to the San Diego Police Department, so now she is just waiting to make it though the back ground check. GOOD LUCK NINA!


I talked to my parents yesterday; they seem to be doing well! Today, I am going to the gym with Maria at 12:30, and then I might go to her soccer practice. I told her I have never played and I don’t know anything, and she said to join in on the practice because there might be a lot of girls like that. So who knows what I will do. I don’t want to ruin the practice. Ha. I would love to learn about the game, and I enjoy running so maybe if they’re not too experienced, they can help me, and I won’t be such a burden.


I just did the dishes, and some laundry, and now I will wait for Maria. The weather is cloudy and about 55-60 degrees. I love this weather. Ok I will be back soon.

Love y'all
puss och kram
xoxo,
Shannon the Cannon
#1 on the field, #1 in your heart