Softball: You, Tea, Eye (A Semi-Cryptic Approach to the Reportorial Task at Hand)
Dear People,
Jim McGuire's team sucker-punched my own on the last hit of the game, 11-10, in a compelling, taut and overdue return to our verdant Codornices homeland. The fact that it took place under azure blue skies made it all the more joyous, though not all players can find their own aerobic bliss in every single game, and that's true even if the athlete in question is dominating the match with a nearly God-like performance.
I refer you, of course, to Kora, who had gently warned me before the first pitch that she wasn't feeling well, and in fact she wasn't sure she'd be able to play at all. Yet when I asked her what was going on, she looked at me forlornly with those gorgeous yet disconsolate baby browns, and then signaled me to follow her several steps away. Then, and with no one watching, she discreetly revealed the large bottle hidden deep within her purse, and as you can imagine, I nearly lost it right then and there. Yeah, it was 100% pure undiluted cranberry juice, and as I stood there absorbing the utterly stark tartness of it all, I knew that she knew that I knew (and I suppose you now know too, unless perhaps you're “not medical” or happen to have a shmekel-not that there's anything wrong with that).
In any case, at that precise moment I felt like the most supportive sister Kora's ever had, though truth be told, I was also her captain, and as I contemplated the potentially calamitous damage to the very core of our team, I tried not to show how tremulous I was. I simply told her to stay stout and strong, and as she came to the plate for her first time at bat, she stood there as the very essence of stoic grace. Even better, the Koranator suddenly unleashed a 3-RBI 4-Bagger to left(!), and while this blistering line drive was “technically” under five feet from impact to Newtonian rest, I say a homer is a homer. Of course, if you'd like to know why Frank decided to hurl said orb well above Jack's desperately outstretched glove at 1st and on to the front porch of the orange house across the street, you'll have to ask him yourself.
The point is that Kora's pain-is-illusion heroism was only just beginning, for three innings later she slammed a truly staggering 2-RBI triple to the rodent-seducing barbecue pits beyond deep left, and then on her next at bat, she drove in an additional RBI with a solid single to the burgeoning succulents past deep center-right! In other words, she was responsible for more than half our runs, and as her privileged pinch-runner, I'll never forget that. Of course the real point is that she was playing under conditions that most shmekelites would've used as an excuse to stay snug in bed, binge-sip Russian Vodka and watch House of Cards for 10 hours straight.
So sure, Jim and his peeps can savor their nail-biting triumph, but as a fair-minded folk who understand the compelling logic of counter-factual aerobic speculation, I think we all know which team would've won if the discrepancy in microbial risk to the internal plumbing of both athletic genders were not so totally unfair and bogus. To be sure, some things just go without saying, and therefore there will be a game at Codornices this Sunday at 11, IF I get enough commits by this Friday morning. . .Raymond
2/21/14
Softball: Sochi (Recurrent Debates in Kinesiological Philosophy)
Dear People,
There will be a game at Codornices this Sunday at 11AM, and as of now it is full. As always, please let me know ASAP if you committed and need to cancel, and if you still want in, feel free to get on the wait list or contact me later for news of reopened slots.
Please bring $5 for the field, which for this week only includes my long-awaited post-game comparative athletic analysis of the triple lutz in figure skating and the 4-par putt in golf, and I'm not writing that just because my annoyance for the seriousness with which the latter sport is taken still knows no bounds…..Raymond 845-7552