Flyers.

Fine Arts Center Bulletin Board

Bus Station

Light Post by the Pond

Student Union

Bulletin Board Near the Library

Light Post Near the Library

Light Post Near Bartlett Hall

Bartlett Hall Door

Tobin Hall

Garber Field

Bulletin Board in Morrill Sciene Building II

Parking Garage Exit Door

Cement Structure Near Library

Boyden

Goodell Hall

My Life Story.

I, Allison Christine Kearney, was
born on the morning of March 11, 1993 to Christine and Daniel Kearney. My parents, at the time, were both in their
mid-thirties, aspiring to have a family of their own. I, being their first of two children,
therefore, was both a scary and exciting learning experience.
From the time of my birth I have
always been a hassle, in a sense that, most of my life has been spent in a
doctor’s office. My birth, on March 11th,
was unexpected as I was born a month prematurely. My body frail and undeveloped was prone to
complications and illness, so I was immediately placed into an incubator.
Doctors watched and tested me for several days until I was deemed healthy
enough to go home for the first time.
The ride home, a forgotten memory, was dangerous yet comforting. There had just been a devastating snow storm,
so the roads were slick with the icy flakes.
The weather however, could not stop a determined father from bringing
his little girl home.
The luxury of my new home however,
was short lived. My parents, four days
after returning home with a healthy baby, were now questioning if I would
survive. I, merely a week old at the
time, was severely dehydrated due to my inability to consume the proper
vitamins and minerals. Doctors
immediately began testing my weak body, hoping to recognize the problem. The hospital, in regards to my health,
remained puzzled as test after test came back negative. Dehydration, therefore, was deemed my only
problem. After days of treatment, I finally became better, strong enough to
feed on my own. I was strong enough to
return home.
My intellectual and physical
development, over the next two years, moved at a constant rate. I found puzzles and stacking objects on top of
each other, at the age of one and two to be an intriguing activity. It interested me that objects could fit
together so neatly to create a larger image.
For this reason, my mother used to joke that I received my father’s
mind. My father, Daniel Kearney, was a
computer engineer, a man who solved puzzles for a living. These puzzles, although much more concise and
elaborate, were very similar, in a sense that, they all began with a single
piece of information that would become a much larger picture.
My mom decided, based on my
intellectual development, that it would be a good idea to sign me up for
preschool at the age of three. She
believed that preschool would help me to develop the necessary social skills in
a somewhat structured environment. My
teacher, Mrs. Berg, created just that, a perfect classroom environment. In her “perfect” classroom she allowed her
students to socialize, learn, grow, and express their creativity, everything a
three year old desires the most. It was
so perfect that I stayed in her class until I went to kindergarten two years
later.
Kindergarten, a missed memory, can
be characterized as a time with no judgment.
It was a time where the opposite gender had “cooties” and everyone was
friends. No one would spread rumors and
everyone could care less about the clothes someone else wore. It was, in other words, the utopia for
adolescents. My teacher, Mrs. Dedarando,
followed a similar teaching style as Mrs. Berg.
She had made time for learning and socializing, as well as, time to grow
and make friends. It was also, at this
time, when I found my “first love.” His
name was Drew Hill, and he was on my morning and afternoon bus. I found him to be everything I could every
dream of, which at that age, was nothing too special. The two of us became extremely close friends,
spending nearly every afternoon together, until fourth grade when he “found
someone else.” I was heartbroken, but I
also soon replaced him with new friends.


I was also this age when I began
gymnastics. I still vaguely remember the
first day I walked through the doors of R&R Gymnastics and met my future
optional level coach. R&R Gymnastics,
at the time, was a one room shack with old, rusting gymnastics equipment. The appearance however, is what caught my
eye. The equipment was so interesting
and foreign, I couldn’t help but stare as my mom, dad, and I walked up the
stairs and into the office. Danielle,
the optional level coach, sat smiling as we entered the room. She appeared excited to meet my family and to
begin training me. I never would have
thought, at the time, that this relationship would last another twelve years.
My grade school years were spent studying,
doing gymnastics, and playing softball.
From first grade to eighth grade, I spent nearly twenty hours a week at
the gym, training for state and regional qualifiers. My habits, borderline obsessive, led to many
injuries and also many appearances at state and regional competitions. Gymnastics, as hard as it was, was my
life. The training however, being every
day for four hours, caused me to fall behind in school. I still however,
managed to be a member of the Junior National Honor Society in sixth and
seventh grade. My attitude however, seemed to become better in the spring, where I also
played softball. Softball, my preferred
sport over gymnastics, brought me much enjoyment. I was a dominating pitcher for the town team,
and I found that I could always prove myself out on the field. Everyone knew that I had the potential to be
great.
At thirteen years old I entered high
school. The school, as a mere eighth
grader, was overwhelming, a new adventure.
It was here where I hoped to become a part of something bigger than
myself, excel at sports, make new friends, and prepare myself for a higher
education. To do so, I joined organized
groups such as Student Council, the Freshmen Math Team, and JV softball. I hoped that by doing so, I would find my
niche, a place where I belong, and people who accepted me. These aspirations however, never seemed to
come true.
My downfall began at fourteen years old
when I met a boy named Joe Willard. Joe
Willard, a seemingly charming boy at the time, ruined the beginning months of my
freshmen year. Joe pretended to love and
care for me, and being my first “boyfriend,” I believed him. He played with girls’ minds and slaughtered
their hearts, making them feel unwanted and unimportant. The relationship caused me to forget about my
dreams and aspirations. I stopped being
me for him when he actually did not care about me at all. The relationship ended in October when I
witnessed him kissing another girl.
After several months of self-reflection,
I began to find “me” again. I began do
well in school and take part in after school activities. It was also at this time where I began to
look at softball as not only a sport but also an escape from the rest of the
world. Softball “took away reality,”
giving me a couple hours of mere enjoyment.
Softball made my worries and stress disappear. It was also at this time when my dream to one
day play for the University of Massachusetts Amherst began. For this reason, my parents and I decided to
increase my level of competition and try out for the 14u New England
Riptides. The Riptides were a new organization
run by a man in our town named Bill Fluke.
Bill, knowing how talented I was, was very willing to take me onto his
team.
The travel team, over the course of the
fall, did not appeal to me. Softball,
once a therapeutic way to release my problems, became a hassle. The practices were long, and my coaches were
never happy, so I quit.
Everything changed however when I turned
sixteen. At sixteen, I was no longer
legal to play at a 14 and under league.
My family, therefore, began to research teams and that’s when we found the
New England Phoenix. The New England
Phoenix was a competitive 16u team out of Rhode Island, well known for not only
its talent but its professionalism. For
this reason, my family and I tried to give it a shot and attended the tryout
the following week. I never would have
guess that those tryouts would change the rest of my life.
At the tryout, I was immediately noticed
by the 18u gold coach, Mike Tingley, for my speed and hustle. He was so impressed that he offered me a spot
on the 18u gold team. My family, naïve at
the time, as to what an 18u gold team was, consulted Denise Davis. Denise, a good friend to Mike, signaled that
I should give it a shot, so I accepted the previous offer. The team, although “cliquey,” proved to be
everything I hoped for. It provided me
with an increased level of competition and visibility to college coaches. It was the visibility I needed in order to be
seen by Elaine Sortino, the head coach of UMass.
Each week, I would write to Coach
Sortino, hoping that one day she would come and offer me a spot on her
team. She however, never came. I, disappointed by her absence, decided to
attend her camp at the University of Massachusetts Amherst. The camp, run by the coaching staff and
players, was the perfect opportunity to impress her, and after days of hard
work, I was presented with her phone number.
She instructed me to call her at the end of August. From there, an unofficial visit was scheduled
and within two months, I was officially “verballed” to her team. My dream, after all the hard work, sweat, and
tears, came true. My life was set, and I
was ready to finally play for my dream college.
Today, I sit, as an eighteen year
old woman, at one of the most prestigious colleges in the country. It is here where I hope to break athletic
records, set myself up for medical school, and make lifetime friendships. There is no limit as to what I can accomplish
here at the University of Massachusetts Amherst, and I plan to take full
advantage of every opportunity I face over the next four years.

A Scar.

On Wednesday, November 16, 2011, I underwent extensive surgery to reconstruct my ulnar collateral ligament in my elbow. The surgery, known more commonly as Tommy John, is a two hour procedure, in which the surgeon replaces a stretched, torn, or frayed ulnar collateral ligament. This picture shows the largest of my four most recent scars.
My ulnar collateral ligament, prior to surgical treatment, was stretched approximately four millimeters off of my ulna and humerus bones. My surgeon, Doctor Luke Oh, believed that the stretch was linked to my initial posterior elbow dislocation and the increase in stress exerted onto my elbow joint from “improving” my throwing mechanics at college. The stress was so severe that the speed of my throw decreased on average of about ten miles per hour. In less than two weeks, the pain became unbearable. My elbow felt instable and shooting pains would be sent down my arm with every throw. It was at that point that I sought help from Doctor Luke Oh.
Five days after my initial appointment, I found myself sitting in a hospital bed preparing for surgery. In the surgery, a tendon graft from the patient’s wrist or hamstring is used to replace the insufficient ligament. To do so, the doctor drills bone tunnels through the ulna and humerus and weaves the tendon in a figure eight pattern. The doctor also, in my case, moved my ulnar nerve, which had been damaged from the stretch in my ligament. In all, the recovery period is estimated to be 12-15 months.
Now, four weeks post operation, I can already feel a difference with my elbow. The joint, connecting my ulna and humerus bones, feels a lot more stable. For this reason, I know that I will come back stronger next season.

Childhood Memories.

A Childhood Poster

Spice Girls- Wanna Be

One of my favorite Childhood Songs

A Video That Will Make You Laugh Out Loud.

Till Death Do Us Part: The Notebook

A Day In My Shoes...

Advice to Allie Kearney at 14.

• Joe Willard will friend request you on “MySpace”. Do NOT talk to him. He will cheat on you and pretend to love you. He manipulates you and hurts the relationship between you and your family. This relationship only leads to heartbreak and trust issues.



• The pain in your knee is more than a pulled muscle. Show your doctor the way you walk. The limp, “pigeon toe,” and sensitiveness in your hip will help a specialist diagnose your problem.
  


• Quit gymnastics. After the hip surgery, you never come back as strong. Your fears become worse and are holding you back from competing. Instead use this time to become a better, stronger softball player.
  


• Change schools. Douglas will never give you the recognition you deserve. John Furno will eventually become the assistant Varsity softball coach and the head coach your senior year. He will take away your fame and give it to his daughters. Try to convince your mom that Blackstone Valley Tech is a much better school.



• Do not become friends with Kylie Matthews. Kylie, although a seemingly good friend, only uses you for car rides and money. She manipulates you and your family and ends up creating nasty rumors about you in high school. She is not worth your time.



• Do not attempt to date anyone from the “Bonfire Group.” The guys will try to get with you, ignore their dates, and reassure them that you just want to be friends. That way, when you meet Chris you guys will have friends to hang out with on Friday and Saturday nights.



• Change teams. Mike does not stand by you after you dislocate your elbow, move to Rhode Island Thunder elite. Tommy Constantin is a lot more knowledgeable, and he helps you to become a triple threat.



• Do not steal third base at the away game in Hopedale in the spring of 2009. You are quick enough to beat the “passed ball,” but the consequences are not worth it. Your right arm gets caught on the base and dislocates your elbow. You will continue to have problems with that arm for several years.



• Stop throwing in the summer of 2011. The increase of pain in your shoulder is not nothing, but instead a signal that you have an ulnar collateral insufficiency. Tell mom about your concerns and see a specialist. The faster you have the surgery, the faster you can play again.

Final Goodbyes.

Goodbye 2012 Softball Season.
Goodbye impatience.
Goodbye first semester of freshmen year.
Goodbye procrastinating on homework assignments.
Goodbye being a bad listener.
Goodbye dessert every night.
Goodbye trust issues.
Goodbye acting shy around people in my dorm.
Goodbye acting uptight.
Goodbye high school.
Goodbye being overly stressed.
Goodbye Mrs. Stack