Softball: Social Security
Dear People,
On Kyle's puberific 13th birthday, we all toasted him with Mary's magically moist, vanilla-frosted pre-game chocolate cupcakes, and it was in that fine ambiance of aerobic camaraderie and joyous good cheer that Chris Fure's team proceeded to slaughter my own, 17-9. Does this mean the Fureage and his contingent behaved no better than a clowder of treacherous vipers? Yes, yes it does.
Regardless, it would be easy to blame me for my feckless captainship, but frankly, I think the evidence strongly suggests that my side's cupcakes were spiked with Sleepinal. Indeed, Pace was both error-prone and jejune, Alan Brill was wobbly on the mound, and even the fearsome Jim McGuire was all pop-up hat and no cattle. And while I'm obviously not going to close this paragraph with a contrived narrative arc, the fact is that both Paul H and Dave Ross were stricken by muscle-aching spasms, and quite bluntly, those spasms reflect a bio-chronological status which is frightfully far from the raw Kylesque glory of their prepubescent youth.
The point is that I remain vociferously opposed to the aging process, for if we can't stop it cold at the cellular level, then this league risks becoming an athletically bankrupt Ponzi scheme. Maybe not for me and maybe not for you, but what is Kyle supposed to do if come 2070, we're all playing as drooling, scooter-chair ridden centenarians while he's still darting around the bases in the prime of his middleagedness?! No my friends, it's not easy taking on the issues that I do, but I happen to believe that being seen as a telomeres-obsessed lunatic is a small price to pay for the eternal-term integrity of you, me and softball itself. And therefore there will be a game at Codornices this Sunday at 11, IF I get enough commits by this Friday morning…Raymond
9/16/11
Softball: The Oenophile's Dilemma
Dear People,
There will be a game at Codornices this Sunday at 11, and as of now, there is one tiny little slot left.
Please bring $4 for the field, which for this week only includes a rare post-game stein of Etude Cabernet Sauvignon (1994-“The Year of the Sauvi”), lovingly served with finely crushed ice to the steinic rim…Raymond 845-7552
9/16/11
Softball: Sunday 11AM: A Vital Notice of Delicate Logistical Import!
Dear People,
I've just been informed by the Department of Parks and Rec that they have screwed up the reservation process and double-booked Codornices for this Sunday morning. Before you start to panic, here's the upshot:
Our reservation was issued first and thus both legally and ethically trumps the competing group's, which is a city-sanctioned rugby team. In theory, they have the field from 8-Noon, but they have been informed that we actually have it as of 11, and they may in fact try to finish up as we arrive. However, in order to win brownie points with the chagrined city official who blew it-the same one who will control much of our fate in the land-hungry Fall-league months to come-I agreed that we would give them until 11:30 (remember, we often don't start to 11:15ish anyway). Regardless, commits should still get there about 11, if for no other reason than I can think of nothing more alluring than the manly je-ne-sais-quoi of rugby.
Yeah, we're a stout and resilient people by both birth and temperament, and by also being both clever and kindly, we'll hopefully get through our upcoming annual Diaspora with minimal organizational calamity.
Until Sunday, courage….Raymond