Our lackluster summer season concluded last night. Even if play-offs were nothing but a laughable pipe dream, we turned out in force and, perhaps due to the lack of pressure, really played our best. When it became apparent that our opponents, the Black Team, were not only strategically but morally indefensible, we started pouring it on. Like a boat full of John Paul Joneses, we had not yet begun to fight.
In the long catalogue of our despicable foes, the Black Team earned a high ranking. The chief offender was their pitcher, who in physicality resembled a diabetic bulldog, and would be played in the Lifetime movie of his life by Buddy Hackett. When pitching, Buddy stood three paces behind the mound, so he could get a running start. Furthermore, he had many different pitches. Each had a name. Some of my teammates had trouble making contact because of the speed and backspin he’d put on his throws. I had trouble making contact because I was laughing too hard at him.
We played a tight game. Our defensive slip-ups were covered by our strong offense. Yours Truly had some particularly choice at-bats. Pete and Nate, playing third and shortstop respectively, made sure the Black Team understood that greed will get you in the end, as they tagged out overeager runners who tried to get an extra base. Notice how I say “tagged”, meaning that Pete and Nate ran the runners down and touched them with the ball. The Black Team opted for a more lethal and unnecessary strategy, seizing pointless moments (like when Erin was running to first base) to peg people as hard as they could. Now, I understand that the rules say pegging below the shoulders is allowed, and I am aware that this is a co-ed league; but whether you want to call me old-fashioned or passive-aggressively sexist, I don’t think guys should be pegging girls. It’s not dignified; especially not when all you have to do is step on the bag to make the out.
By the time we finally got to the bottom of the seventh (the Black Team was almost as bad at adding and memorizing as we were), we were down by one and I was poised at third to run home and tie the game. Alas, it was not to be. Buddy Hackett got himself a W after striking Jenny out with his absurd pitches. As you can imagine, they were very restrained in their celebrations.
So, now we have a few weeks of rest before the fall season begins. Pete is taking on the duties of CFO, and his first act was to drop us down a division. I look forward to being back among the retards and untouchables who we usually excel against. A prospectus may be forthcoming after the holiday.
Game 7 Brief
Record: 1 – 6 (Final regular season record)
MVP of the Game: Jenny – Despite that strike-out, Jenny gave the game her all–physically, mentally, emotionally. It’s that kind of full-force dedication that we like to see.
Weekly “Not En Fuego” Award: Scott – What reputable GM/CEO/Whipping Boy misses his team’s final game of the season? Amateur.
Quote of the Week: “T-BONE!!!” ~ Rachel, heartily cheering me on during my final at-bat