Softball: Underestimation of the Vital Lower Tiers
Dears,
My team crushed Jeremy’s 26-18, and if I may be blunt, it wasn’t because we were stronger or faster or better looking as a people (though, in fact, we did look stunning). Rather, I believe we triumphed because our noble opponents succumbed to some seriously misplaced hubris, and while this analysis may be spare and even harsh, I simply will not recoil from raw athletic truth.
Most obviously, I refer you to the 3rd inning, when Ellen approached the plate, and as is their wont, all of Jeremy’s outfielders smugly advanced toward the infield, simply because she is not Broh or Lawton or Craig, but merely a "girl." Well, I cannot tell you the pride I felt as she slammed her very first pitch 20 feet over their discombobulated little heads, thus garnering an RBI, a triple and the first of her many hits that would torment their team for the rest of that fateful day.
Of course, I also harken back to the 5th inning, when I walked toward the plate, and as is his wont, Michael Davey established his right field defense by positioning himself a scant 10 diss-shouting feet beyond the 1st base line. I suppose he did this simply because I wasn’t Broh or Lawton or Craig, but merely a "girl." Fair enough, but ultimately that kind of ’tude is asking for it, and I’m not saying that just because the homer I smashed over his discombobulated little head was rich with the aerobic Schadenfreude of a lesson taught, and frankly, taught hard.
In any case, this upcoming Monday is Labor Day, so naturally I wasn’t going to organize a game this weekend. But then last night I happened to be strolling through the stacks at the Cal Biosciences Library when I came across a curious leather-bound folio called "A History of the Banana in Florida" (I shit you not). Aside from the inherently compelling subject matter, what suddenly struck me was how varied the American work force was, and while it’s true that most academic scholars are not unionized or even proletariat, I’ll be damned if I’m going to ignore the priceless labor of a single toiling Fruitologist. And therefore there will be a game at Codornices this Sunday at 11AM, FOLLOWED BY a scrumptious bring-your-own-friends-family-and-meat potluck barbecue, IF I get enough commits by this Friday morning.
In addition to your game commit, PLEASE LET ME KNOW if you’re staying for the Barbie and if so, what you’re bringing. Suggested communal contributions include the barbecue grills and coal, ice, drinks, chips, burger and sausage condiments, sit-down blankets, decent quality boom-box with music, fold-out table, pasta, fruit salad, veggies, soft drinks, beer, more ice, brownies, plastic utensils, paper plates, cups, napkins, breads and cheeses, sundry desserts, still more ice, and if feeling truly inspired or French, Sautéed Burgundy Snails with Garlic, Herbs, and Seasonal Greens…Raymond
9/3/04
Softball: Hardball (Another Reference for Cable News Hounds)
Dear People,
There will be a game at Codornices this Sunday at 11, and as of now, there are still TWO slots left. In addition, there will be a yummy post-game potluck barbecue, to which all are welcome.
Please bring your Barbie stuff and $2 for the field, which for this week only includes a stirring post-meal reenactment of a theoretical duel between Senator Zell Miller of Georgia and a 50-gallon vat of his own contrived and specious bile…Raymond
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