Softball: Fear Not
Dear People,
In one of those uniquely stirring games in which the wings of a spotted aerobic butterfly cleave ever so closely to the magically subtle interplay of causation, karma and calamitous conclusion, Paul Fine's team barely staved off my own, 13-12. I refer you to the top of the 4th, with one out, the score tied at four and the crafty Finester himself threatening to score from 3rd. Steve Bedrick launched a rocketing pop-up to the right side clays, and much to my own amazement, I snagged that dizzying orb with focused aplomb.
Unfortunately though, and for reasons I don't pretend to understand, I then proceeded to hold on to the ball while simultaneously engaging Kora in some spontaneous infield banter on Kant's Critique of Pure Athletic Reason. Ironic, to say the least, for as I babbled away, Paulie took off for home and scored the go-ahead run, and as he crossed the plate, a wave of dread gripped my ever-quivering bosom; Would I eventually be seen as having given away the game-winning run? I honestly didn't know.
Perhaps not, for just two innings later with the match tied at five and ducks at 1st and 3rd, Tony Mac smashed a blistering two-out line-drive that Steve Powers heroically ensnared at deep, deep short. Tony was hobbling and Steve was mighty hungry, and thus I could practically taste the double play as it cooked up buttery on the evolving metaphorical fryer. Unfortunately though, and for reasons I again don't pretend to understand, Kora had apparently fallen into a curious trance-like state in the preceding several seconds, and thus stayed frozen in place as Steve desperately looked around for someone with whom he could actually commence the imminent 6-4-3 in question.
To be sure, it was a tactically disconcerting moment, yet as I looked over at Kora's deeply distracted corneas, I knew that she herself had found her own objections to Kant's Critique of Pure Athletic Reason. Now admittedly, the timing may not have been particularly “helpful” for our side, yet I happen to think that two outs forsaken and another stupid run are a small price to pay for the transformative gift of pure, raw sagacity, whenever it happens to arrive.
The point is that I'm well aware that a despicable series of softball-hating storm fronts is about to slam us, and slam us hard, but I didn't bring up that creepy aerobic butterfly just to make small talk. The Kantmeister himself hinted at the capricious behavior of dynamical systems that are sensitive to initial conditions, and as one who's dabbled in chaos, causation and neuro-climatological probability theorem, I can assure you that awesome city-park drainage puts the odds in our favor. And therefore there will be a game at Codorncies this Sunday at 11, IF I get enough commits by this Friday morning…Raymond
11/30
Softball: An Optimistically Determined Appeal to Obviate the Need for Trolling
Dears,
There will hopefully be a game this Sunday at 11, and as of now, there are, shamefully, still nine slots left. I assume this is a result of the raw dread that this hideous series of storms is creating within you as a moisture-fearing people, and listen, I get that. Yet let me be clear: Every fiber of my being tells me that the rains will taper off by Saturday night, and like last time, our homeland's magical drainage will create a field of glorious playability come sunny Sunday-morn' (As I peck these very words, even Yahoo Weather-the most shamelessly pro-rain of the major climatological websites- has Sunday's Berkeley forecast as simply 'showers possible').
The point is that you don't need to worry about the stupid weather, and regardless, I can assure you that while we are a stout and hearty folk by both birth and temperament, I'm basically reasonable and would never force you to risk broken limbs, flu or tertiary syphilis by playing in ghastly conditions. SO, fear not, have faith, and if you're on the fence and would actually like to play, please do me an organizational favor, stop dicking around, and make that commit.
$4 for the field/Check email that morning/See ya Sunday. Maybe….Raymond 845-7552
PS: Just a state of mind…
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bdrGS__yg6Q
12/2/12
Softball: Post-SNL, 1:20AM: Brunch it is!
Dear People,
As you know, my eyes fill with the tears of 1,000 orphaned sparrows whenever I have to cancel a game, but it's now early morn' as I peck these very words, and outside, a third and even more hideous wave of pounding, softball-hating rain is wreaking further havoc on our beloved Codornices homeland. Moreover, it's not expected to let up until this afternoon, and thus I estimate the odds of her being playable anytime today at approximately 18 trillion to 1. Fortunately, I've already gone trough the denial, rage-at-nature and acceptance stages for you.
The point is that Chris Fure and I will be getting together at Crepe Vine (at Shattuck and Cedar) for a succulent 11AM feast of omelets, bourbon and defiant good cheer. If you'd like to join us, please let me know by 10:30 latest, so that we'll know how many seats to save.
Patience….Raymond