Wings to Fly

As a little girl growing up in the small town of Peachtree City, Georgia, my family didn't have cable television (I'm not even sure it existed in the early 1980's), but we did have a little black and white tv with a rabbit ears antenna that picked up the local TBS station when placed on the back porch. Every night during the summer, I can remember my dad watching and "coaching" the Atlanta Braves along through the small screen. If only Dale Murphy, Bob Horner and Sid Bream followed his advice, they might have won a couple more games back in the day. I was not a great baseball/softball player. In fact, I only played one season when I was in 6th grade, spending most of my time in left center field picking dandelions inning after inning. I did get to pitch in one game, but succumbing to the nerves and not being able to see straight with my heart beating between my ears, I walked 4 batters in a row and was taken out of the game. When it was my turn to bat, I prayed