אליסה עידכנה בבלוג../images/Emo70.gif../images/Emo70.gif../images/Emo70.gif../images/Emo70.gif../images/Emo70.gif
אליסה היתה עם אח שלה במשחק בייסבול וממה שהבנתי היא ממש נהנתה! היה קטע שמישהו זרק לה כדור והיא תפסה והתרגשה..נתרגם אחר כך הנה: In other news, I was at the game Friday night and Eddie Murray looked at me and mouthed the words: “Can you catch?” At first I had no idea what he was saying and he had his hands cupped so it looked like he was praying. After a brief moment of trying to compute, I said “What?” He said it again: “Can you catch?” Oh . . . “Yeah,” I replied and then did what any other nervous chick in heels would do in my position. I looked at my brother and said, “Stand up and catch the ball.” Confused, my brother went to stand up and Mr. Murray said “No.” I gulped and my heart started racing. “YOU,” he said while pointing his finger straight at me. “Stand up,” he commanded. And so I did. I stood up and he threw the ball to me in the stands. Time slowed down. The pressure. Oh God, the pressure. I navigated my Jimmy Choo’s in the air and low and behold . . . I caught the ball! (Insert Juan Pierre joke here.) It was a big moment for me. No one has ever thrown me a ball from the dugout before. I was so happy. I started bouncing up and down in my seat and my top lip started sweating. Thank you, Eddie Murray. And . . . thanks, Dad. Thank you, for playing catch with me in the backyard. I love baseball. Peace, Love, AND BASEBALL, Alyssa
אליסה היתה עם אח שלה במשחק בייסבול וממה שהבנתי היא ממש נהנתה! היה קטע שמישהו זרק לה כדור והיא תפסה והתרגשה..נתרגם אחר כך הנה: In other news, I was at the game Friday night and Eddie Murray looked at me and mouthed the words: “Can you catch?” At first I had no idea what he was saying and he had his hands cupped so it looked like he was praying. After a brief moment of trying to compute, I said “What?” He said it again: “Can you catch?” Oh . . . “Yeah,” I replied and then did what any other nervous chick in heels would do in my position. I looked at my brother and said, “Stand up and catch the ball.” Confused, my brother went to stand up and Mr. Murray said “No.” I gulped and my heart started racing. “YOU,” he said while pointing his finger straight at me. “Stand up,” he commanded. And so I did. I stood up and he threw the ball to me in the stands. Time slowed down. The pressure. Oh God, the pressure. I navigated my Jimmy Choo’s in the air and low and behold . . . I caught the ball! (Insert Juan Pierre joke here.) It was a big moment for me. No one has ever thrown me a ball from the dugout before. I was so happy. I started bouncing up and down in my seat and my top lip started sweating. Thank you, Eddie Murray. And . . . thanks, Dad. Thank you, for playing catch with me in the backyard. I love baseball. Peace, Love, AND BASEBALL, Alyssa