8/7/02
Softball: The Perils of Delegation
Dear People,
Congratz to all on last week's electrifying 14-13 won-on-the-last-hit paragon of high aerobic theatre. The raw poise of the Dunkleator was a personal inspiration, especially as he galloped down the baseline with his freshly deseeded gonadal units. Nanci's heroic catch at home was another defining moment, for in the seconds that followed Darryl's curious decision to barrel shin-first into the cappage of her tender little knee, we all learned again that there is no greater sense of recreational community than gathering around a fellow athlete as she continues to writhe pointlessly on the ground. And finally, there was my cherished brother, Robert, who, let the record show, did not humiliate me in any way. Ultimately, though, his was a feckless performance that probably cost my team the game, and while that may sound harsh, I have to call ’em as I see ’em; My team lost, thanks to my lame-ass brother Bob.
In any case, it is with a nearly shattered aorta that I must tell you that I will soon be in a distant land that is far, far away, and thus I will not be able to organize a game this week. However, Don Loeb, father of Diego, hitter of breathtaking homers, and a man of basic integrity in a world of tawdry miscreants, has agreed to do so. No need to feel frightened or even unclean; I have already set him up with all the necessary accoutrements, including the field reservation, new blue-dot balls and braised mu-shu pork for the truly meritorious.
He will be writing all of you soon; Please send all commits back to HIM, not me, and please treat him with the respect that I know he both craves and deserves---Derisive observations like "Ooh, there’s little’ Donnie boy, the self-proclaimed organizational tyro Czar!" or "Jesus, what a pitiful schlemiel" simply serve no purpose.
Have fun/See ya on the 19th….Raymond
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