Growing up a baseball princess had taught me a few things:

- One, the only truly scary thing about ball players was their superstitions.

- Second, baseball always came first. It was their one true love.

- And third, never take your eye off the ball, or you just might get pitch-slapped.

The past three years I'd been licking my wounds in Greece after I ran away from my wedding, and somehow forgot all three.

Too bad the baseball gods weren't as forgetful.

Lured back home by my brother with the perfect job opportunity to photograph the YellowJackets baseball team, and I had no clue I'd step up to bat before even entering the stadium.

And the pitches just kept coming.

Strike one-a plane-night stand ghosting after being stranded in a storm.

Strike two-a grumpy ex who coincidentally was my brother's best friend.

Foul Ball-a mistaken text with two players saved me from striking out completely, especially when it turned into a sexy exploration.

But there was no doubt I had a full count and only one swing away from striking out.

My first mistake was taking my eye off the ball; the second was believing I'd ever come before baseball. But most grievous of all, learning that the scariest thing about ball players wasn't their superstitions...

No, it was falling in love with them.