12/17/14

Softball: The Humbling

Dear People,

In our very first game on the moist and lumpy grasses of Bushrod #1, Chris Fure's team steamrolled over my own, 24-16. This was a truly sobering outcome for the legendary Tom O, who pitched with both clarity and relish after eight long years away in local Albanyian exile. Yet the poor lad was stuck on my team, and my team, alas, was stuck with Michael 'Buttershoes' Davey. Yeah, that's a harsh thing to say, and yet I happen to think that history can't be properly codified if one willfully omits the stark, the unseemly and, to be sure, the aerobically grotesque.

I mention this because as soon as my side gave up 8 runs on 5 errors in the top of the 1st, the Daveyator was off on a multi-inning rant about the Rod's precarious 'conditions,' as if such concerns were any of his damn business. In any case, Mikie's performance in right was initially no better or worse than any of my other outfielders---as a group they were irrefutably feckless, and yet they all played with a certain admirable brio. However, when Chris came to the plate in the bottom of the 5th with one on, two out and my side still cratering under a staggering 10-run deficit, there was a sharp tear in the recreational zeitgeist, and dignity itself now came in the crosshairs.

Here's what happened, as best I recall (and frankly, I've probably suppressed the more lurid details as an act of emotive self-preservation): The Furinator unleashed a deep blast down the 1st-base line that landed just foul, but not before good 'ol Buttershoes went tumbling face-first into a hidden muck-laden crevice of pure microbial filth. Still, his heart was pure, and in hot pursuit, Mike was initially fleet of foot. No harm, no fowl, though truth be told, he now already looked wizened, soiled and bitter. Moreover, there was a palpable post-tumble tension in the air, and as the next pitch approached, a rare North Oakland Lanner-Falcon brayed mockingly in the distance.

Suddenly, the Furinator unleashed another solid blast to right, but this time Mr. LoserLegs appeared to slide, wobble and collapse on his very first step! And as the ball drew ever closer to his pitifully prone corpus, our hero lain curiously splayed and still as he faced out in the exact opposite direction from where he should've been looking, as if he were a clueless little garden snake sipping from the surrounding muds. Every player on my team screamed out for an appropriate biochemical response, but none came in time, and sure enough, the blazing orb in question struck Mikie directly on his right calf before ricocheting off his vulnerable left buttock and on to the surrounding sod. Not to belabor the point, but let me repeat that: The blazing orb in question struck Mikie directly on his right calf before ricocheting off his vulnerable left buttock and on to the surrounding sod.

In all candor, it was a moment of the most intensive disgrace in the 18-year annals of our grand athletic experiment, and while Michael would soon brush it right off and restart his rant about the inherent treachery of the park's admittedly muculent grasses, the reality is that every other outfielder had embraced the Rod's nuanced verdant sheathing with both grace and aplomb. Regardless, and needless to say, the communal humiliation was simply too much for my own peeps to overcome, and thus, while we played out the match with a certain stout resolve, there was no denying that we had been deeply scarred in the very act of our witnessing. Sure, our fragile little psyches will eventually heal, but my guess is that Mikie's calf and buttock will undoubtedly do so first.

The point is that I wasn't going to even bother organizing a game this week, what with the continuing risk of psychic wounding and more rain and tertiary syphilis and God knows what else, but then it suddenly occurred to me that this upcoming weekend will mark the 5th evening of Hanukah, which as you all know, celebrates the storied triumph of the Maccabean Jews over the stupid Seleucid Monarchy in a legendary 165BC match of Professional Judean-League Stick Ball, 37-4. Well, maybe Michael Davey could lie oblivious to his own rendezvous with destiny, but I for one think some anniversaries are just too real and sublime to ignore. And therefore there will be a game this Sunday at San Pablo #2 or Bushrod #1 or perhaps Underhill Astroturf Field (which will theoretically be available, as in 'theoretically'), IF I get enough commits by this Friday morning . . . Raymond

PS: Happy 2nd Night . . .

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KX5Z-HpHH9g

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z8LmMtScH3g




12/18/14

Softball: Your Holiday Flexibility Sport

Dear People,

There will be a game this Sunday at 11 at Bushrod #1 or possibly San Pablo #2 or perhaps a wild card locale of mirth and intrigue, and as of now there are still five slots left.

I know that uncertainty frightens you to no end, so I hope to send out a definitive plan by late tomorrow afternoon.

In the meantime, and as the youth say: Chill . . . Raymond


PS: A Farewell for the Ages:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wUy1-JakJtE


12/20/14

Softball: Saturday, 5:30: The Sitch at Dusk (Players needed!)

There are several grass fields that look like they'll be accessible tomorrow morning, but their outfields are all nasty even by my oh-fuck-it-let's-play standards. That includes both Bushrod fields, which have a muck-shoe-swallow-ratio (or MSSR) of 2-3 inches, and I'm not saying that just because I like to sound like an aspiring hydraulic engineer. In any case, if it quickly stops raining for good (it's drizzling as I peck), and it's sunny in the morning, I can perhaps revisit them early, but for now, the most likely venue is the Underhill Astroturf Field (at College and Channing, two blocks South of campus), which I believe has a good 50/50 chance of being unlocked and empty tomorrow morning.

HOWEVER, I got a couple oy-vey late cancels today and as of now, we are only at 15 or 16 commits. SO, I need at least two or three more organizational heroes to tell me they'll play, by 9AM absolute latest, or I'm likely to have an oh-fuck-it-I'm-going-back-to-sleep moment and decide it's just not worth checking out the field(s).

Update by 10:15ish tomorrow . . . Raymond


12/21/14

Softball: Sunday, 9:18AM: Plastics, Baby!!!

Dear People,

Since it rained last night, I'm working on the assumption that every grass field is an unplayable horror-filled suck-swamp. However, Underhill Field at College and Channing (two blocks South of campus) is open and unreserved according to the Cal Rec office. SO, I need as many heroes as possible at that field for batting practice at 10ish/ASAP to seize her for our people!

To be clear, Underhill is a tad granular and damp, but she is clean, pure and huge, with tons of free street parking and a bathroom (veritable luxury!).
There are risks (the possible arrival of softball-hating soccer players, arrest for illegal entry if you're not a Call student or staff, etc), but we're simply not of tremulous nature, so let's make this happen!

Follow up email confirming we've seized the field by 10:22.08.

Three slots still left!

Calm . . . Raymond

PS: The sun is poking through as I type!

PPS: No metal cleats. See here for other restrictions:

http://recsports.berkeley.edu/facilities/fields/underhill-field/



Softball: 10:12AM: Good to Go! . . .

See you at Underhill at 11, but we need reinforcements ASAP since there's one soccer player there (the field is big enough for two games). . . .Ray

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