Take Me Out to the Ballgame

This post is only kinda/sorta work related.

I play softball. And by play, I mean I stand somewhere in the vicinity of second base, depending on who is hollering what at me. Don't get me wrong; I always put forth the effort--it's just that my hand-eye coordination has always been lacking (sometimes silverware misses my mouth). This lack of fine motor skills limited me to sports like swimming and track. This being said, I never played softball until Monday, May 22nd. After having participated in several games, I think the world was probably better off that way.

I never intended on being named on a softball roster. Ever. I know my place in the world of athletics, and second base isn't it. Neither is first base. Or even deep right field. My place is on the bleachers with a frothy beverage, or maybe over by the water cooler. Even that is limited to instances where I don't have to aim the water into the cup. I was given word that my former company (CX...the company that roped me into this whole finance thing) was participating in a "coed industrial" league, and upon hearing this, decided that I would be attending as many games as possible. After all 1) the BF works there and signed up 2) it's a good excuse to see old coworkers with whom I was friendly and 3) all of the games are within 2 miles of my apartment. I attended the second game they played and cheered for the team, but was thrown into the mix at the third game in order to avoid a forfeit (you need 5 women and 5 men--I didn't even know there were 10 positions...are there 10 positions?). Since then, I've helped the team continue their phenomenal losing streak. "Phenomenal" may sound a bit harsh, but honestly, these losses have been awe-inspiring. I believe we went 3 games without a single run, and the last 3 or 4 have been cut short by the mercy rule (which, according to the rule book, is implemented in the following circumstances: "After 4 innings if a team is ahead by 20 runs or, after 5 complete innings, if a team is ahead by 12 runs [...]."). This is slow-pitch softball.

The loose tie to work is that Rich and the rest of the crew are softball-crazed, and will only allow me to leave early for 3 things: softball, illness or death. My softball Mondays are considered "training" for a game my current employer has scheduled against former colleagues some time in August. Oh my, are they going to be disappointed.

Anyway, each week, CX seems to get progressively worse in relation to other teams despite the fact that our fielding seems to have improved (marginally). It's a damn good thing too, since we spend 90% of our games out there. Today, we completed our batting order twice in 5 innings. The IT guy's wife (and ex-softball player) noted that we had just enough time remove our mitts and open a bottle of water--but not to drink it--before having to return to the dust bowl. As a naturally competitive person, something like this should bother me, but my ego is forgiving as I (and 80% of the team) am laughably bad. I have wondered, however, what could be worse than CX's softball team.

Today, that question was anwered. CX playing softball in 100 degree heat and humidity. Woah.

In all fairness, the heat was unbearable, the sun was blinding and the air was so thick that if you were fortunate enough to accidentally hit the ball, you had to swim to first base. Conditions were less than optimal. Regardless, we stepped up to bat, and miraculously scored 3 runs in the first inning. We proceeded to hold our opponents to 1 run in the bottom of the first, and did likewise in the second. That's right: We were winning a softball game. We resisted the urge to quit while we were ahead and crack open the champagne, and took to the field for inning 3. The other team picked up 2 runs, but still--the game was half over and we were TIED! This is where things began to fall apart. Rather than describe our painful demise in detail, I'll just end it by stating that we lost 3-24 (?), and that the only hit we had from that point forward occurred when our shortstop threw a ball home and it smacked a runner in the leg.

The highlight of the game was its end. The team may not have caught onto the whole catch/hit/throw the ball process, but FINALLY someone recognized that beer is an integral part of the game and came prepared with a cooler (the other team outdid us in this regard as well; they showed up with beers, a hibachi and some sausage. Bastards). The team paired its post-slaughter brews with complaints about the weather, the umpire, the other team. As someone who is taking this whole experience as seriously as I do the Tooth Fairy, the whining was pretty entertaining. It's not our fault we suck. The other teams are more experienced, they have better equipment and are well acquainted with the rules of the game (2 strikes?!?).

This being said, maybe our team really isn't all that bad. We just need an appropriate benchmark. Like maybe the Special Olympics B squad.

It's time to start drinking before the games.

(my apologies in advance for any offense)