Softball: The View from Fox
Raymond Weschler
Dear People,
For our first game since that grobian piece of despotic wanker-scum became Earth’s most notable loser, Chris Fure’s team battled my own in a see-sawing paragon of taut athletic excellence. As one could imagine, this led to a swirling cauldron of nearly unbearable multi-inning tension within the broader social construct of ubiquitous psychic relief, and needless to say, favored was the contingent that could most gracefully navigate such emotively conflicted shoals (For an eerily germane point of reference, see D.K. Slater’s magistral new history, The Shoals of Colonial Boston: One Family’s Quest to Corner the Sturgeon Market, 1723-1739).
Frankly, I was feeling so mellow that I had barely noticed as the Furinator’s contingent began to steadily erode my own side’s dominating 4th-inning 7-run lead, but by the bottom of the 8th, I had no choice but to take note as Alan Shabel blasted a bases-loaded triple over the flailing outstretched arms of the great Joe P. Panic set in as we desperately tried to contain the damage, and thus Jim McGuire unleashed the incoming throw from Joe straight past Saxon’s totally oblivious head and into Alan’s tender little wrist just as he was rounding 3rd. Said hurl did indeed prevent the four-bagger, but since Professor McGuire and Lecturer Shabel are both towering giants of Cal’s Department of Integrative Biology, both will be put on administrative tea leaves until Human Resources can determine if there was any rivalrous misconduct (for a compelling point of reference, see D.K. Slater’s classic gothic yarn, Rivalrous Misconduct: Tonya Harding, Nancy Kerrigan and the Icy Fight for the Soul of America, 1723-1739).
The point is that we were still clinging to a tie after Alan’s frightful bullet, but Chris’ peeps supposedly still won at the very nail-biting end, 11-9. Well, and with all due respect, I think we all know a rigged score when we see one, and we can also all agree that those who whine about our supposed “total lack of evidence” are clearly victims of their own feeble and libtard thinking. And therefore there will be a game at Codorncies this Sunday at 11, IF I get enough commits by this Friday morning . . . Raymond