Life According to MelFlo: Don't Cry, Prove Them Wrong

I ever tell ya about that time my dad changed my life?
No? Okay.
Buckle on in yall. its story time!

Flashback to the late 90's, yeah it was a popping time. It was around the time that I realized how much I loved boy bands, and well, music in general. I used to listen to BSB and *NSYNC and 98* and everyone in there. Oh and not to forget my girls Christina and Britney. I had all of their posters as well as every painting I made at school, hung up on my walls. It was the time to be alive yall.

I'm not sure how old I was, but I was old enough to start "dance." Oh sweet baked potato, I hated dance. I wasn't the cutest, I wasn't the tiniest, nor was I the best dancer. All this made for quite the fun experience. I learned at quite a young age that my looks weren't my best friend, and my attitude didn't make me friends either. My sarcasm, was advanced for my age. One day, we went to try on these awful dance uniforms, and well mine didn't fit, surprise. It sucked because it had to be ordered, because my dance teachers "figured they could just go to a youth medium and not bigger." Wait, before you jump me, I was a chunky girl, however, I have always been capable of doing a standing Toe touch as well as a pretty awesome round-off. So, back to the story, when I heard those adults tell me that. I sucked up those tears and told myself that I'm not going to cry. Later after we got done dancing, I was out putting on my shoes and this girl decided it was a good time to poke fun at me for being "fat." Want to know what I did, I kicked her in the face and I'm not sure if I broke her nose, but she got blood on my socks. I ran all the way home. Yeah, that freaking sucked. Not only did the adults say that, but it was apparent that everyone else heard. It sucked A LOT. I told my dad that I don't want to go back and do that, its not fun. I don't like the girls nor do I like that I have to wait until competition to get my uniform.

That was when my dad did the coolest thing, he went to True Value and bought me my first baseball glove and took me out to the side of our house and in the street light played catch with me. That was also when he told me something that I will never forget, "you're going to finish it out because no one in this family is a quitter." I know there are people who have heard me say that before either about myself or my family member, "We're Florence's we DON'T quit." I will never forget that day. I we stayed outside until my mother came out to tell us to go to bed. My dad signed me up for "Farmer's league" aka the league where you hit off the pitching machine. He also, took a team of kids who weren't the most wanted and we kicked ass. Plain and simple. Ok, we won several games and what not, but our team name was The Bears. That should explain it. I freaking loved that!

And Not to forget that my mom spent a few nights, when my dad couldn't come, being my COACH as well as giving me hitting practice in the back yard. Little did they know, their backyard wasn't big enough. ;) My mom was such an awesome "fill in" even if she benched me for talking back.

That's summer I learned how much I loved baseball, also where I learned that I was better than most boys. It's also when I learned that my dad may be quiet around a lot of people, but he sure was smart as hell.

Fast Forward a few years

I am in third grade, I just moved to a new STATE and well, I made myself pretty known around the town. I was the ultimate tom boy. I played football that fall, played basketball that winter-with girls, then went on to play baseball that spring with the boys. Here's where it woke me up. I was a damn good ball player. My dad and I threw the ball every Sunday after church. Whether that was a football or a baseball it just depended on the season. See, my father he worked in Utah 5-6 days a week and would get home Saturday and would leave Sunday nights. It sucked because he missed a lot of my games but I learned a lot from those couple of hours he spent with me. I was told that I should play softball, but I tried that in second grade and hated it. I hated playing with girls. So I played the Minor League and had a freaking blast.

The next year My dad signed me up for Little League and said that I was good enough to try out for the Major League team. Well I was one of maybe 3 people who could throw from home plate into a trashcan at second base. I was one of few who could throw the ball all the way home from the outfield. And I was one who took some hard hits at short and third base and still could make a play. And I could hit the ball like a freaking boss. That next day, I was cut. I was the only girl that tried out. I was cut because I was a girl and needed to play softball. I went home from school and called my dad to tell him the news. I was DEVASTATED! I tried. I tried so freaking hard, and KNEW I was better than all but the 6th graders. So I played Minors one more time, and vowed that I would make majors. I worked out all summer, and my dad and I "trained" so hard. I made Majors that next year, but I made Softball Majors. And that started my love for softball.

I couldn't have accomplished a lot of those accolades I got from playing YEARS of softball if it wasn't for my dad teaching me all those years back. I couldn't thank my mother for going to some of my best games. Sports has been such a big part of my life, not because my parents "forced" me into them, but because I wanted to play. I began playing "travel" ball when I was 12, and then went on to playing High School Varsity my freshman year, to my Junior year where I began playing year round. I played as much as I could handle with, juggling camps, school, and yes even college courses. I thank my mother for constantly pushing me, and my dad, for believing in me when no one else did.

My first home run in high school, was hit on my Mother's birthday March 23rd it was HUUUUGE deal. And my last home run hit in high school, was on my dad's birthday, May 6th the one that tied me for the state record for most home runs in a season, 12. The girl who had finally hit 13 went on to play softball for UNLV that next year. My parents had 6 other kids who were deeply involved in sports too, so for getting me to ALL my games in Utah and Nevada it was a miracle in itself. For paying for all my camps, and hotel rooms and food, Uniforms, new cleats every year, and two softball gloves-that I still have- I could never thank them enough.

I blew out my shoulder one tournament into my senior year, and spent the remainder of the year at first base. I still had scholarships to play in Minnesota but declined to go because I learned that family trumps softball and basketball ALWAYS. When I settled for going to SUU my dad called me and told, a very distraught Mel-Flo, that things don't always work out they way you think they need to, but they do work out in the end. GET YOU A DAD LIKE MINE! I still play, and I still hit "dingers" over those fences waaaay out there. I also take a ball to the shin at third like a boss, and can still throw it to first for an out.

Whats my point? I'm glad you asked.

My point is, if you're going to kick someone in the face, make sure you break their nose. Just kidding.. or am I? My second point is, don't ever give up. Don't quit. Don't let "yo haters" win. And lastly, things work out in the end, even if its not how you thought it should have.