10/3/01
Softball: Mysteries of the Recreational Mind
Dear People,
Congratz to all on last week’s suggestively sapid 14-13 exemplification of resolute aerobic normalcy. The gorgeous East Bay weather, the return of the local rutting yak and the stunning come-from-behind dénouement added to the resplendence of the day, more than offsetting the personal humiliation of seeing my own team fall short in a match that was so bone-marrow close.
Of course humiliation is a relative, ephemeral and even abstract concept, often as nuanced as a lush Rothko canvas. Indeed, I happen to be thinking of the subtle interplay between courage, sport, art, and ego when a sky-high 7th inning pop-up suddenly fixated every retina in that magical park. With the score 9-8, two outs and two runners on base, the stakes were high and the tension unbearable, but my hopes for an added buffer run quickly dissolved as I heard Alex take authoritative control of a potential crisis to be crushed.
"I got it!," Alex yelled, his neck cranked 90 degrees up as he looked toward the heavens from his 2nd base perch. "I got it!!" he screamed louder just a nano-second later, his tanless pasty legs now spastically moving ever more rapidly backward. "I got it!!!" he shrieked a THIRD and last time, the raw resonance of his voice now ricocheting throughout Berkeley’s dry and rugged hillage. Suddenly, the prized cowhide orb began it’s inexorable and rapidly accelerating plunge, and as time froze and destiny imploded, I watched in sheer awe as Alex determinedly lifted his beloved leather glove straight to the ether---the instant of entrapment now clearly at hand.
Oh sure, the ball in question plummeted straight to the ground, a full 1 to 2 inches from where he had positioned his outstretched and ultimately pointless arm. Still, I cannot truly say that Alex "blew it," since for all I know, he may have been justifiably distracted by his own deeply conflicted views on the use of force as prescribed by Article 42 of the UN Charter. And when seen in that light, I think it’s a bit crass to cast athletic aspersions, as if the trajectory of a stupid-ass softball is somehow more important than mastery of the most basic laws of war and peace. Moreover, even if he had actually been daydreaming about his girlfriend’s totally hot rococo-lavender panties, we could never prove it, and frankly, I don’t think that’s any of our business.
Yes, I would gently suggest that softball is very much about the sanctity of private thoughts, free from the shrill Orwellian intrusion of the state, the crowd and even one’s own horrified teammates. Which is not to say that I think that Alex was actually some kind of hero (he wasn’t), but in failing to reach his "potential" during that one fateful moment, he gently reminded us all that every athlete is free to think both the subversive and the sublime, and that ultimately, the foundations of athletic liberty are found in every individual player, safe and secret in their own tiny little cerebelli. And therefore, there will be a game at Codornices this SUNDAY at 11AM, IF I get enough commits by this Friday morning…..Ray
10/4/01
Softball: The Shame of Tardiness
Dear People,
There will be a game at Codornices this Sunday at 11AM, and as of now, there are still 3 slots left (I am sending out this confirmation earlier than usual since I will be in Los Angeles---America’s most cherished metropolitan area---from this morning until Saturday night. I should be able to confirm future commits, but if AOL fails me in LA, I’ll have to get back to you when I return).
The field fee is $2, and because the field is now reserved at both 1PM and 3PM, you should get there NO LATER THAN 10:55AM. Those that arrive after 11AM without the most compelling of excuses will be organizationally profiled for future reference….Raymond
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