7/28/10
Softball: Dabblings in the Genre of the Turnaround Narrative
Dear People,
For those killjoys who deny that softball can be as tantalizing as the finest Proustian action sonnets, let me set the scene: With one out and bases loaded in the bottom of the 8th, my team was threatening to grind Alan Miller’s into a finely crushed paragon of utterly denarded dominance. Alan himself was on the mound, his 11-7 lead now threatening to crumble before his very eyes, and suddenly, with Mary poised patiently at the plate, the Millmeister found himself with a 4 and 0 count. Yes, a single wobbly pitch could force in a run, bring the go-ahead runner to the plate and simply decimate his authority as captain, pitcher and legend.
To be sure, he faced exceedingly stark pressures that no human should ever have to endure; In fact, my own calculations put the chances of his throwing three rally-killing strikes in a row at somewhere between 6,500-1 and perhaps 7-2. I have no doubt that had I been him, I would’ve immediately cracked under the stress, ripped the clothes from my ’bod and run stark raving nude into the wooded tundra beyond deep center-right. But of course Alan Miller is no me, and me no him, though we are all together, goo goo g’joob.
Three perfect strikes later, Mary went down without a swing, crashing on the acrid misfortune of compelling odds denied. Another minute, batter and single pop out after that, our splendid rally was over—snuffed out like a perfectly innocent horse fly who’s landed on the still and insidious tongue of a waxy Panamanian butch frog; Yep, the shock that followed was simply too much, and my side ultimately went down, 13-7. For Allan, though, history will record that he turned in a landmark performance which blended the focus of Sandy Koufax as he closed in on a perfect game with the courage of the Brits as they converged at Dunkirk.
No, my friends, I don’t engage in aerobic hyperbole, but for the record, I will not restrain my pen if the actions of a fellow athlete serve as nothing less than midwifery to glory. And therefore there will be a game at Codornices this Sunday at 11, IF I get enough commits by this Friday morning…Ray
7/30/10
Softball: Live with the Trister!
Dear People,
There will be a game at Codornices this Sunday at 11, and as of now there are, shamefully, six slots left. You are therefore welcome to commit the odd and inscrutable non-community people you know who so often fill our games with both peril and mirth.
This week’s field fee is just $4, and that includes a delightful post-match slice of honey-muscat cake with summer berries and sabayon. . .Raymond 845-7552
PS: My niece’s totally cool Dutch boyfriend, Tristan de Rond, has just arrived from Amsterdam to begin his PhD in Biochemistry. He is 22, super smart, polite, an emerging force in softball, AND currently looking for a place to live in the Berkeley area—preferably a comfortable room, shared apartment or equivalent for under $1,000/month.
The best part is that he will spend the next few years focusing on advances in cellular metabalomics. Now does this mean that if you end up living with him, you’re guaranteed to experience renewed metabalomical vigor like you’ve always dreamed of? Yes, in fact, it does. So if you have a place for Tristan, please let me know, or you can write him directly at tristan.de.rond@gmail.com
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