10/21/15
Softball: Reproductive
Dear People,
It's now 9:35PM Tuesday as I peck these very words, and truth be told, I almost forgot to write you because my sister Toni has been in town. Yeah, her. And while I'm actually here in Berkeley and not chained to the walls of the dark and dank basement which festers beneath her hideous Seattle abode, her very presence is a ceaseless source of annoyance and distraction that leaves me feeling just as imprisoned as if I were actually there.
Even worse, I'm once again being forced into slave duty, working on countless menstrual 'situations' that arise when women trying to get prego use her new Taking Charge of Your Fertility app (see http://www.tcoyf.com/ ). As one who's been clipped and barren since 1983, this is not my idea of a good time, and it became all the more painful when I had to consider the various ways a programmer would need to code for a cyclically delayed Luteinizing Hormone Surge. To be sure, the only surges I care about have nothing to do with getting knocked up or even Uber's pricing structure, for I happen to know the pain of being captain of a team who just fell to Anthony's 13-9, and if there was a succinct narrative kernel that captured the why, I'd say it's because my peeps were communally ambushed by a viral outbreak of Lame-ass Hitters Surge.
The fact is that my side had a monopoly on all the aerobic glory, as most clearly seen by Donny's magical base-running-I think of both his 4th-inning triple that culminated with an under-the-mitt slide into 3rd as well as his pickle-beating 6th-inning retreat to 1st after the poor lad realized he was sharing 2nd with a cherished fellow teammate. I also think of the raw finesse with which Jerry snagged three searing line-drives that were heading straight to the mound and perhaps right to his very manhood. And yet, Steve Bedrick effectively denuded our own cornucopia of power-sluggers, consistently forcing them into duck-stranding groundouts and pop-ups with his usual deadly blend of knuckle, curve and sagging balls. That's right; Sagging balls.
As captain, I obviously take no responsibility for any of that, though for the record, it was my own lame-ass 2-out 9th-inning fly-out to left that snuffed out our dreams right then and there. In all candor, I think I hit the ball too hard for the landing between short and shallow left that I was trying for, which is ironic given that my own analysis in endocrinological physics shows that if I had had just had a bit more garden-variety estrogen coursing through my veins, that match-prolonging orb would've dropped to the ground-clean, manly and surging with the potential of a team still not dead. And therefore there will be a game at Codornices this Sunday at 11, IF I get enough commits by this Friday morning . . . Raymond
10/23/15
Softball: Partisan
Dear People,
There will be a game at Codornices this Sunday at 11, and as of now there are still five slots left.
Please bring $4 for the field, which for this week only includes my personal pledge to keep your testimony before any spontaneously organized post-match committees of inquiry dedicated to your errors and shabby athletic performance to no more than 12 hours . . . Raymond 845-7552
PS: My Generation (in all its corporate-hating glory) . . .
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oOWwN3T2xkc
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YGWK_hvGgkU
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lmY2V-4aj3E
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