Softball: More Signs of League Renewal

[raymond...@gmail.com]

Dear People,

 

Let the record show that on a climatically perfect East Bay Day, my team took on Chris Fure’s in one of those inspirationally rare displays of our broad communal diversity, what with nearly a third of our roster being women and over half being gimpy (I shit you not). Even better, the vibe was exceptional and every player out there clearly agreed that no sport on earth offers such a rarefied blend of the contemplative mellow and pristine aerobic release. That’s right, softball (for a germane point of reference on the only possible competition with those compelling features, see D.K. Slater’s fascinating new case study, Canadian High: A Social History of Curling on Weed and the Rise of Psychedelic Ontology in Suburban Regina, 1966-1971).

 

In any case, the game qua game was a smidge less riveting than the previous night’s World Series closer, but there were, to be sure, several moments of grandeur. I think of Ale’s RBI-triple to deep center right in the 4th, just minutes after pulling her hammy (or perhaps it was her Tensor fasciae latae––who really knows?), or when the legendary Steve Powers blasted a 5th-inning 3-RBI 4-bagger to that same spot, and that included personally running around the diamond with his leg brace in tow. Or when Danny the rotator arrived at short in the 6th and then quickly revealed himself to be one of the finest players of that position in the history of this league by flawlessly getting the chicken, the duck, and the turducken on just his third game in this league! 

 

Frankly, I don’t know what any of that fowl jive even means, but that’s what they were saying, and even better, Ale, Steve, and Danny were all on my team! On the other hand, alas, Chris Fure’s peeps were stuck with Chris Fure, and yeah, with two outs in the bottom of the 9th, management matters. To wit: The Furinator himself flew out to left with two ducks on the pond and his utterly failed leadership now splayed nude and degraded for all to see, and thus his team went down, and down hard, 23-16. 

 

Tant pis and c’est la vie, and grandeur it was not. And therefore there will be a game at Codornices this Sunday at 11 IF I get enough commits by this Friday morning . . . Raymond