12/9/15
Softball: Modest Tales of Dogged Perseverance
Dear People,
Despite some harrowing personal adversity that battered me and my peeps in the hours leading up to the game, my team still crushed Anthony's with a 7-run 8th-inning rain-soaked rally of raw human resilience, 14-8. The fact is that I almost didn't make it to the park at all thanks to a contemptible nail in my front passenger tire, and while I had a spare, I'm just gonna' come clean---I'm not particularly “mechanical.” Organizational responsibility, of course, is not discharged by the unseemly realities of limited eptitude, and long story short, I did get to the field by 11:18 via Michael Davey's uber-crushing shuttle service. Still, I arrived deeply shaken, and was in no condition to be the visionary captain that my side was craving.
Even worse, Paul Fine arrived even later than Mikie and me because he had been stuck at Kaiser with a despicably infected tick-head lodged deep in his upper back. Dr. Fineleaf, as you know, is the most celebrated botanist on the face of the earth, and for that entomological monster to thank him for his achievements by piercing through his tender little scapula is simply beyond the pale. Indeed, it was as if it were emulating the nail that penetrated my rubbers and ruined my mellow pre-match morn,' and for Paulie, the psychic damage was evident. Yes, as soon as he took to the field in the 2nd to begin his rotation in right, Jerry blasted a searing 2-RBI homer that sailed right past our hero's fecklessly flailing limbs, and frankly, I was convinced right then and there that we were in a for a very long game. And yet as much as I was inclined to sit him down for a stern review, I also knew that there was no point in coaching a man whose back was still housing the body-bereft micro-skull of a rabid insectual vampire.
And so we both played on, and amazingly, despite our fragile states, we were only down 8-3 in the bottom of the 7th when a bracing cold drizzle filled our hearts anew, and as Paul and I led off the inning with moist multi-base line drives past Anthony's suddenly cratering outfield, it occurred to me that nature (broadly defined here as tick heads and nails) is no match for the phoenix that is the human spirit. So yeah, we were able to lead our team back from the brink and on to a convincing triumph because in the end, I think we can all agree that being pierced in the tire or scapula does not the heart shatter. And therefore there will be a game at Codornices this Sunday at 11, IF I get enough commits by this Friday morning . . . Raymond
12/11/15
Softball: Hopefully (La Puisaance du Soleil)
Dear People,
There will be a game at Codornices this Sunday at 11, and as of now there are still two slots left.
Please bring $4 for the field, because as much as we bitterly resent it, fees are the price we pay for aerobic civilization.
And finally: My sources at the Weather desk of the Latvian Consulate in Livermore are suggesting there may be another despicable storm front moving through the East Bay on Sunday, but for the record, every fiber of my non-Baltic being says that it won't arrive in earnest until after 1:17PM. In any case, remember that we are a stout and hearty folk who scoff at drizzle and Codonices has drainage to die for, and thus if climatic conditions are ambiguous that morning, please assume nothing until you check your email around 10.
Resolve . . . Raymond 845-7552
12/13/15
Softball: Sunday 8:53AM: Screwed :-(…..
Dear People,
It was raining at 3AM, it's pouring as I peck and the Doppler is showing more of the same for hours to come. And people still ask me “What do you have against nature?”
Going back to sleep, to dream of the game we won't actually play. Until next week . . . Raymond
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