My first softball season produced two triples, several catches in left field, a throw that helped end a game and, less gloriously, a ball that entered my glove and somehow came out again.

That seems a fair summary of the 2026 Beijing City Slow-Pitch Softball League Spring Season. It was not perfect. That is probably why it was worth remembering.

The clearest memory is our win against The Ruo. In the final inning, the ball came to me in left field. I threw home to Liang Hanzhe, who completed the force at the plate for the last out of the game. The play lasted only a few seconds. Yet it contained much of what makes baseball and softball satisfying: anticipation, positioning, execution and trust, all compressed into one sequence.

There were other moments I enjoyed more than I expected. Two triples were an obvious highlight. So were several catches in left field. A clean catch in practice is pleasant; one made in a game feels different. There is less time to think, and rather more reason to get it right.

Not every ball cooperated.

There were a few I probably should have caught. On some, I hesitated for a fraction too long and watched the ball fall safely in front of me. On another, there was no such excuse: the ball reached my glove and still escaped. I had often joked that some players treated the ball as if it were too hot to hold. Eventually the game supplied a useful correction to my sense of humour.

This is one of competition’s less comfortable virtues. Practice can improve technique, but games reveal temperament. They show whether you commit to a ball when there is no time for a second opinion, whether one mistake follows you into the next play, and whether you can remain useful after doing something you would rather forget.

A season therefore accumulates in an odd way. The obvious statistics matter, but so do the moments that never appear neatly in them: the step taken too late, the decision made correctly, the throw that arrives on time, the ball that should have stayed in the glove. Improvement often begins with remembering exactly which was which.

The game also makes individual achievement difficult to separate from everyone around it. The final out against The Ruo may be remembered as a throw from left field and a force at home, but neither part meant much on its own. A good play depends on several people being where they should be, understanding what is happening and trusting the next person to finish the job.

That is why the season now feels less like a collection of personal highlights than a collection of shared ones.
What I will remember most is New Generation: my teammates, the coaches and the friends I met because of the game. Softball gave us an obvious reason to meet, but the people eventually became a larger part of the experience than the results.

I am grateful to Wang Xiaoli, Chen Weirui, He Haotian, Oliver, Chen Jing, Zhang Yang, Zhang Ermin, Liang Hanzhe, Wei Zechuan, Zhang Kaiyuan, Yuan Taoyun, Li Tao, An Bowen, Kelly, Tao Chen, Shi Zong, Zhang Wei, Shi Zhoubao, Li Yiwei and Xu Mohan. I am grateful, too, to Tian Huimin, who came to support us in the final game.

Thank you as well to Coach Li Xiaobao, Coach Wang Haoya and all the New Generation coaches who spent time teaching me. I still do not know every coach’s name. Some worked with us only occasionally; others were simply quiet enough to leave more advice than biography behind. But I remember what they told me on the field, which is probably the more useful thing to remember anyway.

The spring season is over. My first season is, too.

I will remember the triples and the catches. I will remember the throw home. I will probably remember the dropped balls just as clearly.

But in time, all of those plays will become attached to the people who were there for them. That may be the most durable statistic of the season. ■