During the past seventeen years or so of playing fast-pitch softball I have stepped in at the plate over three thousand times. I do not have access to the records to be precise on that number, but it is probably a conservative estimate. In all of those at bats, one hitting feat was never achieved, the home run.

The only opportunity I ever had to jog around the bases, always provided by one of the hitters behind me knocking one out of the park, with me already on base. A wonderful feeling to be sure, but I had no idea what I was missing until last weekend. Thats when it happened, I WENT DEEP! But wait, I am getting ahead of myself. I must explain the series of events leading up to my big moment.

Like most of our tournaments, this one was to be contested on Saturday and Sunday. This usually means a Friday night of packing clothes, and hoping to play well over the weekend. For some reason, this Friday night was different. I did not find myself hoping for good results, I expected them. I also found myself envisioning specific scenarios while batting. I wanted to hit a home run. I then set my sites on hitting two. I know this must sound odd given my career record for hitting what we call big flies, but that is what I did. Right down to seeing my bat contacting the ball, then leaving the field of play, twice.

The tournament got off to a shaky start. At the completion of Saturdays games, I had a few hits, no homers, a jammed left thumb, and a right big toe nail that was going to come off any time, after pounding a foul ball off of it in my last at bat. Sunday morning brought new hope. The ice from the night before had been good to me. The pain had subsided and I felt ready.

Game one: no dingers for me but we win, which means another game and three or four more chances. Game two: after hitting a single in the first, I dig in for my second time in the game. The pitcher tries to challenge me on the inside half of the plate. I hit a hooking line drive down the right field line. Did I get enough of it to carry all the way? Will it stay fair? The answer to both questions is just barely. The ball hits the top of the fence inside the foul pole and lands on the other side. As I round third base, my teammates congratulate me with high fives, knuckle knocks, and a few slaps to the helmet. It all felt even better than I ever thought it would. Two innings later, I see one pitch, a belt high fastball right down the middle. This one left little doubt. Landing way over the fence in right center. In two consecutive at bats, two home runs.

This is not a story about predicting or seeing the future. I simply focused, without distraction, on something that I really wanted. I had been hitting the ball hard all spring so I knew for the first time that I really had the physical ability to make it happen. The real difference is, I finally found the power that had been missing all along. Not missing in my swing, but in my mind.