Dear People,
For the first time in the 28 year history of this league, an alliteratively-linked quartet of female superstars—Kira, Karen, Kim, and Kyla— all came out to frolic, and even better, the latter three brought their hubbies to play and their kids to inspire (Yes, Chomskyan ambiguity intended). Moreover, the legendary David Guevara returned for his first game since he mysteriously disappeared in the Spring of 2001! So yeah, this was a magical match of swirling demographic history, and but for the pragmatic limits of slottage, a solid argument for nudging all 537 people on this listserv to round up their athletic others to join us this weekend! Kinda’.
Unfortunately, softball is not all milk and honey, and thus for the second consecutive week, a blistering line drive to left rendered me queasy to the core. In this case, it was a 4th-inning hopper that Karen at 3rd inexplicably tried to stop with her right ankle, and while Will had to take her to urgent care, I am happy to report that there was no break or fracture, and she’s determined to be back soon! I have also fully recovered; Thank you for asking.
Of course, in the immediate aftermath, this meant that my team lost our two most vital aerobic backbones, but we’re nothing if not resourceful, and so we nabbed Kyla’s Danny from Chris Fure’s side and continued almost seamlessly apace. Indeed, there were now 10 on each team, shaken but focused, and we were suddenly deep into a taut see-sawing battle in which we fought for Karen and her family while Fure’s side set out to punish Danny for his promiscuous treachery. Yeah, the whole gamut of Homo sapien emotion was there to relish—bitter, sweet, and earnest, as it almost always is.
Whatever. The point is that as it all came down to the bottom of the 9th with one on, two outs, and my team trailing by two, it was Danny himself who unleashed a searing bullet up the middle with such jaw-dropping velocity that I believe the great Bobby F snagged it clean on the mound exactly one nanosecond before it was actually hit. No, I’m not an ‘expert’ in recreational particle physics, but I know the ’27 Yankees, I know special relativity, and I know what I saw, and with that heart-breaking denouement, the Furinator’s peeps broke us, and broke us hard, 22-20. And therefore there will be a game at Codornices this Sunday at 11, IF I get enough commits by this Friday morning . . . Raymond