Play Ball!
Today's entry brought to you by Ibuprofen.
Memorial Day weekend means many things to many people. For some it's to pay homage to those who fought and died for our country. For others, it's to barbecue and drink. If you play in the Montrose Softball League, it's to play in the annual Lone Star Classic softball tournament. Both Lindsey's and my team played, so that made for long days. You know what else makes for long days? Eight softball games.
Due to two rain delays on Sunday, we had to play what I'd like to call "Hyper Stupid Softball on Speed." Each game was 30 minutes long, and each batter came up with a full count. We each had one pitch, and we could let it go and get either a walk or a strikeout, or we could swings and takes our chances. Can you imagine playing five innings in thirty minutes? Considering the number of you who are gay men? Probably not. In a word, it sucks. Then add mud. Then add the oppressive humidity that made us feel like we were playing inside someone's mouth, if that mouth was muddy and sunny and full of ball players and...oh crap, bad analogy. It was crazy uber-sauna muggy hot, OK?
By the third game we played in those conditions, my extremities and my brain were not on the same page. At one point, after an overthrow, I thought I saw third base open, so I started to take the extra base. Then I realized we had a runner on third. The person with the ball on the other team and their second baseman simultaneously realized I was an idiot. I started back toward second base and dove, hoping she'd miss the tag. She did, and I got to wear the infield home, and I got to keep some of my dignity.
In the end, we took third place in the tournament, and I'm damned proud of my team for hanging in there during each game, never giving up, and battling our way through the loser's bracket all day on Sunday. Way to go, Vipers!
I learned a few things this weekend.
Memorial Day weekend means many things to many people. For some it's to pay homage to those who fought and died for our country. For others, it's to barbecue and drink. If you play in the Montrose Softball League, it's to play in the annual Lone Star Classic softball tournament. Both Lindsey's and my team played, so that made for long days. You know what else makes for long days? Eight softball games.
Due to two rain delays on Sunday, we had to play what I'd like to call "Hyper Stupid Softball on Speed." Each game was 30 minutes long, and each batter came up with a full count. We each had one pitch, and we could let it go and get either a walk or a strikeout, or we could swings and takes our chances. Can you imagine playing five innings in thirty minutes? Considering the number of you who are gay men? Probably not. In a word, it sucks. Then add mud. Then add the oppressive humidity that made us feel like we were playing inside someone's mouth, if that mouth was muddy and sunny and full of ball players and...oh crap, bad analogy. It was crazy uber-sauna muggy hot, OK?
By the third game we played in those conditions, my extremities and my brain were not on the same page. At one point, after an overthrow, I thought I saw third base open, so I started to take the extra base. Then I realized we had a runner on third. The person with the ball on the other team and their second baseman simultaneously realized I was an idiot. I started back toward second base and dove, hoping she'd miss the tag. She did, and I got to wear the infield home, and I got to keep some of my dignity.
In the end, we took third place in the tournament, and I'm damned proud of my team for hanging in there during each game, never giving up, and battling our way through the loser's bracket all day on Sunday. Way to go, Vipers!
I learned a few things this weekend.
- My wife loves me enough to stick around the muddy, muggy fields all day just to watch me play.
- I hate waking up at 5:00 on holiday weekends.
- I do not play well tired, but give me a Power-Ade, some ibuprofen, and a hotdog, and I can do anything.
- My new plan to rule the world involves Power-Ade, some ibuprofen and a hotdog. Fear me. After a nap.