I played my last collegiate softball game this past Saturday. It was the last time that I would ride the bus with my teammates, put on my uniform, step onto a field with my teammates by my side and play the game of softball as an Eckerd Triton. It was also the day that I said goodbye to the game of softball.

My relationship with this game can only be described as a sort of love and hate relationship. There were times when all I experienced were highs: my first homerun, travel ball tournaments, making memories with my teammates, winning districts in high school, getting the chance to play at a collegiate level, hitting my first collegiate homerun in my last at bat on senior day. And of course there were times when all I experienced were lows: losing big games, making fielding errors, being injured, losing confidence in myself, hitting slumps.

There were times before Saturday, when I wanted to do nothing more than hang up my cleats and toss my glove aside forever– years before it was time for me too. There were days where this game would frustrate me to the point to where I could feel it picking me apart piece by piece, pointing out everything that I was doing wrong. I've been to a point where I'd have tears rolling down my face while begging my parents to let me quit. I struggled with daddy ball. I've dealt with other people's parents. I've been lifted up by praise and beaten down by criticism in one day. In no way, shape or form was playing this game easy on me. Sometimes it killed me to keep going and play on...but I never quit.

I never quit because I love the feeling of the worn down leather on my glove that my hand has left an imprint on. I love the sound of metal spikes on concrete. I love cheering on my teammates. I love the feeling of pride you get when you field a ground ball and make the perfect throw. I love singing a-long to my walk-up song. I love the competition, especially the nitty gritty kind. I love the cheers. I love taking reps and doing situations at practice– even if on the outside it looked like I didn't. I even sort of like doing 21 outs. Plus that feeling when you get ahold of the perfect pitch and send the ball flying over the fence...I love it. And overall, there was no better feeling in the world than being surrounded by my teammates during those long practices and game days. I love it all.

This game has filled me up with joy and it's ultimately broken my heart, but I still love it. And without it, I wouldn't be the person that I am today. Playing the game of softball has taught me a lot of things that that I will carry with me into adulthood and the real world and it's also brought a lot of blessings into my life. The coaches I've had throughout my career, both good and bad, have all effected me and taught me a lot about what it means to be a ball player, a good person and that sometimes life just isn't fair. I've also had many teammates who have been some of my greatest and closest friends. This game has molded and shaped me into the person that I am today, and I couldn't be more grateful for it.

Part of me always knew that there would be a day to where I would stop playing competitively. I knew that I'd have to hang up my cleats, put my glove off to the side in my garage and keep my jersey folded up in a bin with all of my other jerseys from throughout the years– only to be brought back out many years from now when I'd want to reminisce on my glory days. That day has always seemed so far away and sometimes it felt as if I could play this game forever.

I've been blessed with the opportunity to play softball for the last 18 years, an opportunity that not many are able to have. This game and I have been through hell and back together and to think that my playing days are over, is pretty bittersweet. Like I said earlier, I always knew this day would come, sometimes I even wished it would come faster.

Years from now, I won't remember how many errors I made, how many strikeouts I had. I won't remember the scores, or the bad days. But what I will remember is the blood, sweat and tears, and the many friendships that I hope to continue on with throughout the rest of my life.

After Saturday's game on the bus ride back to campus, it finally dawned on me that this was it. As I looked around at all of my teammates, I realized that there will be no more practices, no more games, no more dunkin trips, no more pre-game rituals, no more locker room jam sessions and no more bus rides.

Goodbye has never felt like this before.