Winners Train, Losers Complain

[[Jason : Ararinda : Abby]]

She stepped onto the field, her locks pulled back into a ponytail, her body clad in her USA Softball practice uniform and her knee high red socks, with her black Nike cleats. She loved the field, it was practically her life. She had a bounce back set at home plate, the only thing that could handle her pitches other than the USA catcher. Her face expressionless, she made her way to the pitcher's circle. She placed some dirt on her right hand, the hand that would deliver the blazing fast pitch. She pulled the ball up into her glove. She focused her attention on the plate and the imaginary batter that would be in the box. She set herself, and then whipped her arm around and released the ball, sending it in a straight, 80 mph, line down towards the plate, hitting the strike zone perfectly. "Too slow!" she said to herself, her German accent biting her words. She should be pitching at least 95...but she hadn't practiced over the winter at all. She had actually flown to Germany over the winter months. She threw about ten more pitches before tossing the yellow/green softball and her black leather glove down at the circle. She moved to the nearby dugout and took a drink of water. There was a pitching machine in a nerby area. She picked up her bat and helmet and moved towards it. She turned the dial to 90 mph and then moved towards the plate, slipping on the blue helmet and adjusting her stance and bat. The first ball flew at her...swing, hit. The ball flew through the air, landing somewhere in center field. The next one was the same, only it went further. She remembered her coach's words...."Winners train, losers complain."