Dear People,
Congratz to all on last week's broiling 21-16 exemplification of pristine aerobic resolve, played out as it was on the roasted soils of the Codornices prairie. Yes, each individual player had to face his or her own demons that sizzling mornin---for the record, temps soared to over 81 degrees by the bottom of the 5th---yet not one gave in to their own caliginous hallucinations. Rather, there was simply excellence, focus and sweat, the "iron triangle" of ultimate success.
What was missing, unfortunately, was an abundance of commits fulfilled. That I ended up having to beg strangers picnicking in the distant underbrush for a 17th and 18th player---as if I were a common garden-variety organizational tart---is a taint not on me, of course, but rather on the communal whole. Indeed, 140+ of you, a glorious Bay Area weekend of exceptional sultriositude, AND the chance to honor Tim "Bulldog" Hurst, arguably the greatest ump to ever be fired for unsportsmanlike conduct in the history of professional baseball---and yet, there I was, my metaphorical groining cup suggestively exposed for any passerby willing to take the bait. No, I'm not going to lecture, and in fairness, I was too lazy to beg last Friday, but let's resolve as a community to avoid such unseemly supplications in the future. 'nuf said.
In any case, and as most of you know, next Sunday, August 29th, is the 129th anniversary of the first unassisted triple play in the history of professional baseball! I still get tiny little goose bumps on my clavicle when I think how the legendary Robert Hines, 3rd basemen for the floundering Providence Atlantics, captivated the 4,500 fans present at Messer Street Grounds, stealing a near certain victory from the 1869 champion Boston Red Stockings, and of course, forever assuring the state of Rhode Island as a dominant force in the game's future development.
Official records gleaned from Brown University archeological digs seem to suggest that Hines snagged a searing line drive smashed by Joe Burdock in the bottom of the 9th, with bases loaded, no outs and the beloved home team holding a scant 3-2 lead. With raw and unparalleled aplomb, Hines rushed to 3rd before the startled Jake Manning could get back to base, and then, seeing the stunningly clueless Don "the cod" Sweasy darting obliviously toward him from 2nd, tagged the Stocking superstar before his tiny little piscine brain could grasp the reality of the world. And if all that in and of itself is not reason enough to celebrate the day, then I don't know what. Therefore, there will be a game this Sunday at Codornices Park at11AM, IF I get enough commits by this Friday morning....Ray