9/10/03
Softball: Peer Pressure
Dear People,
Let me cut to the chase; While I could continue with my usual "Congratz to…" blather, sometimes you just have to step outside your own patterns of encrusted literary inertia in order to stop and smell the paradigm-busting coffee. The simple fact is that my team absolutely pulverized Jeremy’s, 27-9, and while I suppose we all wallowed in mirth, the hard truth is that there is simply no reason to congratulate anyone on such an unseemly display of aerobic evisceration.
Of course it was both ugly and unsettling on its face, but more than that, there was an eerie undercurrent of danger and destiny; Indeed, I remind you of what I wrote just last week:
<<…it is actually MORE LIKELY that Nanci would get three base hits in a row than the despicable asteroid would strike us with its evildoer ways!…>>
As it turns out, Nanci found herself on base FIVE out of six at bats (!!!), and while it’s true that four of those were from walks, the sight of this paragon of exceeded expectations playing such a dominant role in my own team’s offense left me both awed and shaken. For if this gentle dynamo’s performance is indicative of cosmological kismet, the odds of that bastard asteroid destroying all life as we know it on March 21, 2014 are not 909,000 to 1 as previously estimated, but rather a somewhat more disturbing 909,000 to 908,652.
I must confess that it was because of these ominous numbers, and the fact that my team was leading by 18 runs, that in the top of the 9th I threw caution to the winds and strayed from my cherished first base perch in order to play shortstop for the first time in my pitifully risk-adverse life. I’m not gonna indulge in false modesty here------—for those who were present, it was probably the most manly display of fielding prowess in the history of our game.
Yes, I snagged three blazing hits in a row, including a searing ground ball from Jeremy that I not only gloved with sublime aplomb, but which I threw back to 1st with nearly flawless execution. I am still staggered by my own performance, and in all candor, between Nanci and myself, I think one can make the argument that I’m actually the truer paragon of exceeded expectations, while she comes in a respectable second and the dumb-ass asteroid remains a distant third. I know that sounds harsh, but it’s what I honestly believe.
In any case, and as some of you may be aware, Alan Miller is getting married in the Rose Garden immediately across the street from Codornices next Sunday at 11:00. As one who feels that the bedrock of our national renewal lies in the sacred nuptial bonding of athlete and spouse, I am thrilled that he is taking this momentous step. Of course, ya gotta wonder about his process of prioritization, since choosing a wedding over a softball game is, to say the least, a tad bizarre. I mean, it’s not like there weren’t other times to get hitched, and at the risk of waxing cynical, it ain’t one out of every two softball games that end in divorce.
Nevertheless, I would like to offer Alan a chance to redeem himself in front of both his bride, and more importantly, our community, and therefore I will allow him to cross Euclid Boulevard in order to partake in one single pinch-hit, so long as it is done with both grace and dignity (i.e.…he must come in his full compliment of tuxedoed threads and all leather wedding boots, it must be between 11:15 and 11:45 [so that we know it is within a few minutes of the actual act of marriage], it must be witnessed by at least two others from the wedding party, and if he gets an actual hit, he must agree to stay on base for as long as necessary, no matter how tweaked his impatient guests may become).
Of course, he can decline the offer, but frankly, the idea of his choosing marriage OVER softball as opposed to WITH softball is just too ludicrous to contemplate. To be sure, I think he’ll do the right thing, and therefore there will be a game at Codornices this Sunday at 11:00, IF I get enough commits by this Friday morning….Raymond
8/12/03
Softball: The Craft of Strained Metaphors
Dear People,
There will be a game at Codornices this Sunday at 11:00, and as of now, there are still SIX slots left. Since we’re at a bare minimum quorum, you are once again welcome to commit any of the non-community little people who undoubtedly view us with scorn and contempt, but who still seek to nurse from our inimitable aerobic teat.
$2 for the field/See ya then….Raymond 845-7552
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