First Pick

First Pick

I have many fond memories of my childhood: my best friend Butch, living outside until we were called home by our parents, and playing any sport that was the neighborhood flavor of the day.

I was fortunate to have an older brother who often let me participate in his football, basketball, and baseball games with the boys. I loved sports and cherished the chance to be a player. Most of the time I was only allowed to be a bat girl or watch my brother’s team practice while I sat with a pile of football equipment, wearing a team jersey and chewing on a mouthpiece. But when the time was right for a “pick up” game, I was always allowed to play.

When it came time to pick teams, my brother would almost always pick me first. At that time of my life, I was already full of confidence and thought he was making a great first pick. But as I got older I realized that he was probably risking a loss by having me on his team. I’ll be forever grateful to him for having supported my sense of confidence at such a young age.

“As we grew up, my brother acted like he didn't care, but I always knew he looked out for me and was there!”-- Catherine Pulsifer

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