I believe I can fly

This is perhaps one of my proudest moments in my entire life. The summer before I came up to college, I got to throw out the opening pitch to an Angels game. It was Mormon night at the Angels, an annual tradition in Orange County. My mom got a phone call asking if I would be willing to go on the field before the game where they could recognize a few students to represent the Mormon group that was there. I don't know why, but I didn't ask questions; of course I would. My mom (I don't know why they just asked for my mom to relay the message, but whatever) then received another phone call asking if I would be the one to actually throw out the opening pitch. Holy flying Disney angel wings! I have no idea why I was chosen, how my name got suggested, but whatever, when I get a stroke of luck, I take it. Problem: I didn't really know how to throw a ball. I practiced for a few hours, with my Dad and male friends coaching me through it.

Then, the day came. I got to go early to the game and go through a special door. They gave me a hat and the ball. There were a few other kids there too (I think 3 or 4 total) and we got escorted onto the field. The first player I saw was Chone Figgins, one of my absolute favorite players. I was so excited. And Vlad saw us and winked. I was freaking out, it was so cool. And then, the game was beginning, so we lined up around the mound, and I threw the ball to Scot Shields. He then came up to return the ball to me, gave me a side hug, and told me I threw a good strike. I held out the ball and he signed it. I was euphoric. Then the game started, I returned to the Mormons in the nosebleeds, and proceeded to watch the game I had started. So yeah, my claim to fame is that I threw out the opening pitch at an Angels game.

Note: Angels beat the Devils Rays that night. I think that's symbolic, Angels and Devils. Yeah.