armchair cultural observation since 1995

One of the boys


I was a decent ball player when I was in high school. If I hadn’t been drilled in the wrist by an assistant coach (and subsequently mocked by the trainer after quickly glancing at my swollen wrist)  in my only tryout at-bat as a freshman I may have even made varsity.

I was reminded of this reading about Kristi Twardziak in a recent Courier-Post article detailing the exploits of the ponytailed pitcher and third base(wo)man for Triton Regional High School in southern New Jersey.

It’s not the fact that a girl plays varsity baseball for my alma mater so much that got my attention. It’s the fact that she made the team at all.

This isn’t some podunk school in the Midwest we’re talking about here where every kid with a pulse and a collection of baseball cards gets a chance to suit up. It’s cut-throat. At least it was 15 years ago when a guy with a 1.000 on-base percentage didn’t even get a second look from the coach or the trainer.

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