#20 - Kristy and the Walking Disaster Part 4
Part One.
Part Two.
Part Three.
I'm doing a post-work snark here, today, so I hope I'm still capable of making words by the time this is over. I have a can of Rockstar Recovery to get me over this shift, but I have a feeling I'll need something a little stronger by the time I make it to the end of this book.
As I read over the last page of chapter nine again, to remind myself where I'm at (oh, yes, Ann goes out of her way to remind us how heinous Jackie is), I notice that Buddy and Suzi are described as "jubilant". This makes me a little suspicious that they're so eager to see Jackie break things and finish practice early, but I also realize that the word jubilant makes me think of mainly two things: this Loading Ready Run video, and cherries jubilee.
And now I am craving both lentil muffins (which I bet Dawn would love, as long as they were organic), and cherries jubilee. And I haven't even made it into Chapter Ten yet.
Chapter Ten
Dawn writes in the notebook, and my eyes widen as I read Kristy's response to it:
"Dawn doesn't miss a thing. Her notebook entry was pretty meaty, if you know what I mean. The only thing she got wrong was the Blasters. She meant the Bashers, of course. I wished she hadn't noticed quite so much about me and Bart. And I really wished she hadn't written about us in the notebook."
I didn't see anything too "meaty" in Dawn's entry, but that must have been cut for rating. Now I'm forced to imagine that after the dramas that unfold in this chapter, Dawn was also present for the post-practice tie-breaker; SparkleBart has reach, but K-Ron has flexibility.
I mean, seriously. I've never seen innuendo that thick in a BSC book. Not about a guy, anyway. Then again, Bart is a player, and Kristy has excellent ball-handling skills.
Thank you, I'll be here all week.
All the Krushers are present for the practice, but Kristy goes to lengths to point out that Jackie is the least tidy of them all. If it bugs you that much, Kristy, tell him to tie up his damn shoelace.
Then SparkleBart shows up with some Bashers, but he's not so sparkly anymore - he speaks to Kristy "coolly", and gives her a sort of fake smile. Suddenly everything Kristy knows is called into question, but she writes it off as Bart's version of throwing himself down on the ground and screaming, "Nofe air!".
At first the Bashers limit themselves to making rude comments about the fact that a two year old can't play baseball, and I'm on their side. Soon, though, they expand to comments about "what can you expect from a girl?", "Pigpen", and just when I think the Bashers can't get any lower, they start making derisive comments about Matt being deaf.
Well, Kristy, you are the one who observed that the eighth grade boys from your neighbourhood only have a 25% chance of being decent people -- and you know the younger kids are probably just as bad. If not worse. And these are the Bashers who took the effort to drag themselves across town, and the decent ones probably stayed at home.
Haley offers to "rearrange" the face of any Basher to diss Matt, while meanwhile one of the Bashers is keeping Bart busy so he can't speak up. Kristy thinks this is proof that Bart shouldn't be coaching a team, and I'm not really sure whose side I'm on. Bart's not their parent, just their baseball coach, but seriously, they're acting like little assholes; tell them to shape up or at least shut up.
By the end of the game, Jackie and Gabbie are both crying. Them, I don't blame at all. Poor kids.
Chapter Eleven
Holy shit, the following Friday meeting is called off for an emergency Krusher practice. And a whole 20 people roll out to watch the Krushers practice, which Kristy thinks is amazing, and I think is nice and all, but also potentially just winding up the pressure even more. Save your support for the day of the game, guys.
Kristy again comments that all the Krushers are neat and tidy, except Jackie is dirty and has untied laces. Kristy, this morning at work, my laces kept coming untied. I'm supposedly a grown-up. If a seven year old's laces bother you that much, put a double knot in them for him. Problem solved. Stop harping on the poor kid, and seriously, it's extremely hypocritical for you to be so offended that the Bashers called him "Pigpen" only for you to do the same thing, even just in your own monologue, a couple of pages later.
They play hard at the practice, even if Jackie trips over his own bat (he still made it to first base, so who cares if he stumbled a bit and didn't run very elegantly?). And then Bart shows up and offers to walk Kristy home.
Kristy is no longer walking on cotton balls over SparkleBart, though, and melodramatically calls him "the enemy". And then they walk home together. Silently.
The sexual tension in these parts is tangible, guys.
Chapter Twelve
Karen wakes Kristy up first thing in the morning and, hilariously, Kristy very nearly tells her to go away and leave her alone, until she thinks of a more tactful way to ask that, and tells Karen to go eat a high-energy breakfast.
...someone's going to regret that later, when they're scrubbing Karen off the ceiling.
Apparently Charlie gave very similar advice, so the Krushers are "bulking up" when Kristy finally makes it downstairs. And then the phone starts ringing off the hook - Jake Kuhn wants to know if he has to wash his shirt, Suzi Barrett wants to know if the strike rules change in a real game, and then Jackie calls six times because he's freaking out, probably because his confidence is shot to pieces because his coach thinks he's a walking disaster. Then we discover that Nicky Pike is out sick (probably caught it from hanging around Jared Mullray too much), and David Michael tells Kristy that he's not sure if Jake will be any good as a relief pitcher, because Jake's pretty upset that the Bashers have been calling him "Fatso".
I'm just getting more and more mad at these Bashers.
They finally make it to the game, after Kristy spends the rest of the morning running around like a chook with her head cut off, and Kristy finally approves of Jackie's appearance (though not before mentally calling him "Pigpen" and "the walking disaster" again). And then the Bashers roll in - 21 boys (seriously, how the fuck are there THIS many ball-players in Stoneybrook?) and four girls in "snazzy" cheerleader uniforms.
I really hope the game is about to start.
Part Two.
Part Three.
I'm doing a post-work snark here, today, so I hope I'm still capable of making words by the time this is over. I have a can of Rockstar Recovery to get me over this shift, but I have a feeling I'll need something a little stronger by the time I make it to the end of this book.
As I read over the last page of chapter nine again, to remind myself where I'm at (oh, yes, Ann goes out of her way to remind us how heinous Jackie is), I notice that Buddy and Suzi are described as "jubilant". This makes me a little suspicious that they're so eager to see Jackie break things and finish practice early, but I also realize that the word jubilant makes me think of mainly two things: this Loading Ready Run video, and cherries jubilee.
And now I am craving both lentil muffins (which I bet Dawn would love, as long as they were organic), and cherries jubilee. And I haven't even made it into Chapter Ten yet.
Chapter Ten
Dawn writes in the notebook, and my eyes widen as I read Kristy's response to it:
"Dawn doesn't miss a thing. Her notebook entry was pretty meaty, if you know what I mean. The only thing she got wrong was the Blasters. She meant the Bashers, of course. I wished she hadn't noticed quite so much about me and Bart. And I really wished she hadn't written about us in the notebook."
I didn't see anything too "meaty" in Dawn's entry, but that must have been cut for rating. Now I'm forced to imagine that after the dramas that unfold in this chapter, Dawn was also present for the post-practice tie-breaker; SparkleBart has reach, but K-Ron has flexibility.
I mean, seriously. I've never seen innuendo that thick in a BSC book. Not about a guy, anyway. Then again, Bart is a player, and Kristy has excellent ball-handling skills.
Thank you, I'll be here all week.
All the Krushers are present for the practice, but Kristy goes to lengths to point out that Jackie is the least tidy of them all. If it bugs you that much, Kristy, tell him to tie up his damn shoelace.
Then SparkleBart shows up with some Bashers, but he's not so sparkly anymore - he speaks to Kristy "coolly", and gives her a sort of fake smile. Suddenly everything Kristy knows is called into question, but she writes it off as Bart's version of throwing himself down on the ground and screaming, "Nofe air!".
At first the Bashers limit themselves to making rude comments about the fact that a two year old can't play baseball, and I'm on their side. Soon, though, they expand to comments about "what can you expect from a girl?", "Pigpen", and just when I think the Bashers can't get any lower, they start making derisive comments about Matt being deaf.
Well, Kristy, you are the one who observed that the eighth grade boys from your neighbourhood only have a 25% chance of being decent people -- and you know the younger kids are probably just as bad. If not worse. And these are the Bashers who took the effort to drag themselves across town, and the decent ones probably stayed at home.
Haley offers to "rearrange" the face of any Basher to diss Matt, while meanwhile one of the Bashers is keeping Bart busy so he can't speak up. Kristy thinks this is proof that Bart shouldn't be coaching a team, and I'm not really sure whose side I'm on. Bart's not their parent, just their baseball coach, but seriously, they're acting like little assholes; tell them to shape up or at least shut up.
By the end of the game, Jackie and Gabbie are both crying. Them, I don't blame at all. Poor kids.
Chapter Eleven
Holy shit, the following Friday meeting is called off for an emergency Krusher practice. And a whole 20 people roll out to watch the Krushers practice, which Kristy thinks is amazing, and I think is nice and all, but also potentially just winding up the pressure even more. Save your support for the day of the game, guys.
Kristy again comments that all the Krushers are neat and tidy, except Jackie is dirty and has untied laces. Kristy, this morning at work, my laces kept coming untied. I'm supposedly a grown-up. If a seven year old's laces bother you that much, put a double knot in them for him. Problem solved. Stop harping on the poor kid, and seriously, it's extremely hypocritical for you to be so offended that the Bashers called him "Pigpen" only for you to do the same thing, even just in your own monologue, a couple of pages later.
They play hard at the practice, even if Jackie trips over his own bat (he still made it to first base, so who cares if he stumbled a bit and didn't run very elegantly?). And then Bart shows up and offers to walk Kristy home.
Kristy is no longer walking on cotton balls over SparkleBart, though, and melodramatically calls him "the enemy". And then they walk home together. Silently.
The sexual tension in these parts is tangible, guys.
Chapter Twelve
Karen wakes Kristy up first thing in the morning and, hilariously, Kristy very nearly tells her to go away and leave her alone, until she thinks of a more tactful way to ask that, and tells Karen to go eat a high-energy breakfast.
...someone's going to regret that later, when they're scrubbing Karen off the ceiling.
Apparently Charlie gave very similar advice, so the Krushers are "bulking up" when Kristy finally makes it downstairs. And then the phone starts ringing off the hook - Jake Kuhn wants to know if he has to wash his shirt, Suzi Barrett wants to know if the strike rules change in a real game, and then Jackie calls six times because he's freaking out, probably because his confidence is shot to pieces because his coach thinks he's a walking disaster. Then we discover that Nicky Pike is out sick (probably caught it from hanging around Jared Mullray too much), and David Michael tells Kristy that he's not sure if Jake will be any good as a relief pitcher, because Jake's pretty upset that the Bashers have been calling him "Fatso".
I'm just getting more and more mad at these Bashers.
They finally make it to the game, after Kristy spends the rest of the morning running around like a chook with her head cut off, and Kristy finally approves of Jackie's appearance (though not before mentally calling him "Pigpen" and "the walking disaster" again). And then the Bashers roll in - 21 boys (seriously, how the fuck are there THIS many ball-players in Stoneybrook?) and four girls in "snazzy" cheerleader uniforms.
I really hope the game is about to start.