Softball: Animal Planet
Dear People,
In a wondrous paragon of taut aerobic excellence under a broiling midday sun, Alan Brill’s team barely staved off my own, 12-11. Technically, we had the more inspiring performance, what with Liz’s masterful defense at 2nd, Steve Seskin hitting a ferocious 1000 thru his first two at bats, and of course my own blistering throw to the plate, nailing Pace with a foot to spare (Yeah, that Pace, who darts around the baseline like a famished Tanzanian cheetah chasing a succulent young gazelle). Still, the Brillster led his contingent with both poise and cohesion, and since Kira stopped every line drive and overthrow within 15 feet of 1st, it soon became clear that ours was the brilliance of
a destiny denied—we were more athletically adroit in zero-sum terms, and yet we still fell short by one stupid run.
The point is that we as a community are replete with moral, intellectual and athletic mega-achievers, as opposed to say, the cicadas of the world, who may number in the zillions yet offer nothing of value to anyone outside their dumbass queen. I mention this because as I was driving to the game with Chris Fure, I told him that I was pretty sure that Nero, Frieda’s beloved 21 year old cat, is the most noble but sloth-like beast on the face of the earth. In fact, Nero contently sleeps away 23 hours a day, and yet Chris quickly took up his defense on broad relativistic grounds. He claimed that certain cicadas make Nero look like a feline workaholic, and while at first I was skeptical, it turns out that the Furenator is that inimitable blend of shortstop extraordinaire and unassuming giant of the entomological arts.
Yes, the fact is that the great North American Magicada Cicadas burrow into the ground the minute they’re hatched, and then spend the next 17 years sucking on subterranean root juices while in a semi-comatose state of extended buggy torpor. Then, for reasons I don’t pretend to understand, everyone in their multi-billion member communities will burrow back to the surface before beginning a several day orgy of swarming, molting, crop pillaging, insectual choral practice and screwing before suddenly dropping dead for good. I’m sorry, but as lifestyles go, I find this totally retarded. Oh sure, Chris may sleep eight hours a day and I may snooze 13 and Nero might do 23, but because we have a certain pride of species, I can guarantee you that none of us are going to crash for the next 17 years. And therefore there will be a game at Codornices this Sunday at 11, IF I get enough commits by this Friday morning. . . .Raymond
4/24/09
Softball: Your New Career Fast
Dear People,
There will be a game at Codornices this Sunday at 11, and as of now there are still five slots left.
Please bring $4 for the field, which for this week only includes a rare honorary degree in criminal psychopathology from the Rehnquist College of Law at El Cerrito Plaza (between Trader Joe’s and the Shoe Pavillion). . .Raymond 845-7552