Yet Another Athletic Attempt

I was never very athletic as I was growing up.  My claim to fame was always that when I played for the Orange Crush softball team, I hit one triple (the only time I ever got on base) and I almost got somebody out one time.  I did the whole rec league cheerleading thing too, but I was always the tall, awkward one in the center of the back row.  Oh, and my double-jointed arms proved to be quite a problem as well.  I could never get them straight like my extremely intense coach wanted them to be.  

Then there was the golf that I gave up on after my best friend, who was voted Most Athletic in high school, decided to give it a try.  I couldn't handle the fact that I took lessons for a year and still whiffed the ball about every other time, and she came out and was good immediately.  Finally, after taking several years of tennis lessons, I was pretty consistent with at least making contact with the ball.  

Tonight Andrew decided that he wanted to teach me how to hit a baseball.  Obviously from the pictures above, you can see that it takes a significant amount of focus for me to actually hit the ball.  I'm afraid there seems to be a pattern with the strange look on my face.  Despite my efforts to the contrary, every picture turned out just like that.  Surprisingly, I really enjoyed getting instruction from Andrew about how to properly hit a baseball.  I'm afraid he might not agree after I instructed him on how to properly throw the wiffle ball to me.  He is such a good sport.  With this beautiful weather, I find myself making excuses to get outside.