Softball: The Cardiovascular Arts
Dear People,
I believe that if Monet or Manet or Pâté had been at last week’s game, they would have whipped out their brushes and immediately put inspiration to canvas in an eerie tableau called something like "Park of the Aerobic Sublime." I suppose that’s being "speculative" since those guys croaked, and croaked hard, a good century ago, but I don’t know how else to articulate the sheer majesty of my team’s come-from-behind 15-14 triumph. Indeed, I initially worried about whether we lacked the rich metaphorical cojones necessary to compete against Jeremy’s feral hitting machine, especially after Ehud curiously let a gently hit fly-ball hop right between his darling little ankles and on to the distant tundra beyond—thus giving up three utterly pointless runs right off the bat, with no outs in the top of the 1st.
Of course, inauspicious beginnings do not a completed story make, and while we nearly imploded under the 5th inning stress of a nasty 10-2 deficit, something deep in the bosom of our communal despair triggered tiny little shoots of kinesioligic faith. Alas, these shoots are somewhat unpleasant in that they often feel like shingles, gout or mittelschmerz, but they were apparently what we needed, since ours was a rally for the ages—flawless, sustained and with just enough kick-ass to get the job done. For the record, I really do believe that had they been there, Monet, Manet and Pâté would have joyously captured the beauty of our athletic renewal, though Seurat, always the pompous little shit, would have stuck to painting dot-covered boring French people in tony Parisian suburbs. That’s not a criticism, just my opinion.
In any case, it saddens me to report that as of this writing, the Swiss Embassy staff in Pyongyang, North Korea has yet to respond to my note of good cheer (with official softball invite). Frankly, I suspect that the authorities may have blocked my letter out of fear that deep aerobic yearnings would sweep the entire diplomatic community. The fact is that nepotistic Stalinist loony-tunes are total wet blankets when it comes to having fun, so I’m not going to rest until I know for certain that at least one or more Pyongyang-based ambassadors is clearly aware that they have a standing invitation to play softball with all of you, way cool citizens of the world that you are. And therefore there will be a game at Codornices this Sunday at 11, IF I get enough commits by this Friday morning….Raymond
8/20/04
Softball: Healthy Choices
Dear People,
There will be a game at Codornices this Sunday at 11, and as of now, there are still six slots left. This means that you are encouraged to commit any of the non-community peoples with whom you pass your dreary non-aerobic hours.
This week’s field fee is just $2, and that includes either a lovingly rolled post-game jive-stick of medicinal hashish or a generous carafe of fresh-frozen garden peas…Raymond