My Generic Answers and The Appearance of My Softball Ego
You know those questions that adults love to ask? Like what are you doing nowadays (since you are now a college graduate)? How is life? The list goes on and on. Well when I first got back to the Birmingham area after my first semester of medical school, everyone loved to ask me questions about the new experience.
The most common question was: how is medical school?
At first, I was honest and would always reply that it was tough or difficult. You could automatically see the judgment in the other person's face. It was like the word difficult meant that I struggled in my classes and barely made it through. I would try to explain that my grades were good and that the amount of material was the difficult new aspect, but the original judgment remained. Thus, I started just saying that it was fun. I mean, I wasn't lying. My first year of medical school was fun, but it was also difficult.
These generic questions were flowing quite well tonight at my dad's Sunday school party. Whether I was inside in the kitchen or outside on the deck, multiple adults would just randomly ask me questions. Eventually, I decided to play games with the teenagers in the back yard.
It all began with spikeball. I learned the game as I went along, and a lively game ensued. Then, after dinner, two of the boys started hitting a baseball around.
When I asked to hit the baseball once, the youngest child said: "You can't hit a baseball because it's smaller than a softball."
Oh man, my ego was insulted. I took the tiny bat - it was a T-ball bat - and hit a high line drive into what would have been between left and center field. The older boy looked at me and commented that it would have been a "dinger" on a softball field. I laughed and said that it should have been caught or someone would have been sitting the bench. Honestly, it was a good hit, especially with a tiny bat and the fact that I haven't picked up a bat in over a year.
Don't worry, my ego was brought low very quickly. After baseball pitching to the younger kid - because apparently a former college softball player throws hard for young teens - the other kid brought up softball pitching. Of course, I could not resist. He got into a catching stance, and I started my old pitching motion. I was so concerned about my release point since I was throwing a baseball that I didn't even think about how I was wearing my favorite Yellow Box flip flops in wet grass. My shoe broke mid-stride, and I slid. After landing in a semi-splits position, I took my bruised pride and gave up on the games for the day.
So may you all believe that you are still 18 and athletic/young.
The most common question was: how is medical school?
At first, I was honest and would always reply that it was tough or difficult. You could automatically see the judgment in the other person's face. It was like the word difficult meant that I struggled in my classes and barely made it through. I would try to explain that my grades were good and that the amount of material was the difficult new aspect, but the original judgment remained. Thus, I started just saying that it was fun. I mean, I wasn't lying. My first year of medical school was fun, but it was also difficult.
These generic questions were flowing quite well tonight at my dad's Sunday school party. Whether I was inside in the kitchen or outside on the deck, multiple adults would just randomly ask me questions. Eventually, I decided to play games with the teenagers in the back yard.
It all began with spikeball. I learned the game as I went along, and a lively game ensued. Then, after dinner, two of the boys started hitting a baseball around.
When I asked to hit the baseball once, the youngest child said: "You can't hit a baseball because it's smaller than a softball."
Oh man, my ego was insulted. I took the tiny bat - it was a T-ball bat - and hit a high line drive into what would have been between left and center field. The older boy looked at me and commented that it would have been a "dinger" on a softball field. I laughed and said that it should have been caught or someone would have been sitting the bench. Honestly, it was a good hit, especially with a tiny bat and the fact that I haven't picked up a bat in over a year.
Don't worry, my ego was brought low very quickly. After baseball pitching to the younger kid - because apparently a former college softball player throws hard for young teens - the other kid brought up softball pitching. Of course, I could not resist. He got into a catching stance, and I started my old pitching motion. I was so concerned about my release point since I was throwing a baseball that I didn't even think about how I was wearing my favorite Yellow Box flip flops in wet grass. My shoe broke mid-stride, and I slid. After landing in a semi-splits position, I took my bruised pride and gave up on the games for the day.
So may you all believe that you are still 18 and athletic/young.
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