9/20/00
Softball: Virtue
Dear People,
Congratz to all on last week’s somewhat lethargic but not altogether pointless 19-6 journey into the ethically ambiguous world of unsettling aerobic subjectivism. Indeed, the eerie sight of the other contingent floundering pitifully on 2 runs in six innings was initially a source of great satisfaction, but in an umpire-free world where no free bases-on-balls exists, deep was the wound that festered as the whispers soon grew loud and incessant that our beloved pitcher---gentle, stout and balding---was consistently throwing balls that were more in keeping with the rules of the National Bowling League than any version of softball as it’s currently taught in the West. As both team captain and curator of the game’s competitive integrity, I found myself in the uncomfortable position of having to catechize the kinesiological rectitude of one of my own. Inside, I wept the tears of 1,000 conflicted major league managers, but as I approached that mound, my eyes merely flickered with the disingenuous calm of a person at peace with his task. Frankly, it was an uncanny performance.
In any case, I hadn’t really seen what the problem was, but I cleaved close to the transcendence of overt neutrality, and when I arrived at his cherished pitcher’s perch, I looked squarely into his deep inner retinas---the optical express lane into every southpaw’s raw and naked soul----and I asked him point blank; "Mikey," I says, I says "are you intentionally chucking goober balls that they can’t hit?" Michael’s tiny little sockets suddenly began to swell with pure salt-free tearing fluid, and without the slightest hesitation, he swore to me that his pitches had been worthy, his conscience was clean, and that if shutting down a team replete with bitterly ravenous power-hitters made him guilty of a crime, then he didn’t want "the mediocrity of innocence." Secretly, my spleen quivered with pride, but given my meager political capital, I sent ‘ol Mike packing to center field, thus assuring that our eventual victory was morally unchallenged, the noble culmination of clarion team focus, cogency of athletic purpose, and 178 magnificent pitches over six brief innings, apparently none of which came anywhere near an actual batter.
Of course this story has special poignancy in an era when victory-at-any-cost attitudes continue to permeate other athletic cultures. Indeed, you need only look at the latest headlines from Sydney, where Olympic athletes have once again been caught with the usual illegal performance enhancers, from HCG and artificial hormones to synthetic steroids and crack. Outside of the latter two, you’re not going to find substances like that in our community, and thus there will be another game at San Pablo Park this Sunday at 5PM, IF I get enough players by this Friday morning. So go ahead and make that commit; No, not for some baseball-playing-dufus-hero of the abstract past, but this time for yourselves, for the hear and the now, and for that rare opportunity to enjoy vigorous recreational exertion in a nurturing environment of righteous good cheer….Ray
9/22/00
Softball: The Hinge of Fate
Dear People,
It is 10AM Friday and we are still SEVERAL players short of a minimum quorum for Sunday’s game. Unfortunately, I do not have the time to grovel, and of course even if I did, that’s not something I would ever do.
The simple fact is that if I don’t get at least four more commits by the time I return home this afternoon, there will be no game. That’s not an idle threat, but just bitter demographic reality----stark, cold and indifferent to the amorphous sorrow, communal disgrace and opportunistic flab that would undoubtedly result……Ray
9/22/00
Softball: The Grandeur of Sportal Diversity
Dear People,
There will be a softball game this Sunday at San Pablo at 5PM, and as of now, there are still a few slots left. Furthermore, in order to officially launch my 2008 US Senatorial bid, there will be an ultimate frisbee match one hour earlier, at that very park, open to any and all comers…..Raymond
PS: $2
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