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RRBS Softball Game Log June 26, 2007 Players: Kaitlyn Christopher, Kambria Current, Matt DiStasi, Jessica Hooker, Mike Jennings, Andy Lang, Jon Stropes, Jamie Tate, Matt Thompson, Ally Wells Coming off our or first game, the entire gang was excited about taking the field for the second time. All week e-mails had been flying back and forth and calls were made among teammates talking about how much fun we’d had the previous Tuesday. Most of these e-mails were actually sent out by me, because as we all know, I have an unhealthy addiction to sending out pointless (in other people’s minds) mass e-mails to my mailing groups. Kaitlyn is usually pretty good about responding with kind words, Stropes (when he checks his e-mail that one time each month) will occasionally write back a smart ass comment, and Andy will jump into the conversation if one of the girls on the team does a ‘reply all,’ but for the most part it’s a lonely one-way Super Highway. Thank good for text messaging though because everyone likes to respond to those, except Kimmy, who I’d not been able to get a hold of since the previous game. Tuesday finally rolled around, and part of the added excitement this week was that we’d be playing at a much more manageable 6:30 instead of the night shift at 10:30. Of course, this also meant that most people with "regular jobs" would have to hustle from work in order to get to the field in time to play, which in turn meant no pre-game practice. That was fine though, we are all gifted athletes and practice is for sissies. The Other exciting news was that Ally would be joining us for the first time this season, as there were no other musical acts that she wanted to see in town that night. I made sure of this when I walked past both her and Kimmy at the radio station as they were doing their intern work… whatever that is. I know back when I was an intern all I ever got to do was clean up audio carts and hold giant balloons. Anyway, I asked the two of them if they’d be playing tonight, and both had an enthusiastic yes for me. All was right with the world. Now for the rest of the story to make sense, you have to know that I get off of work at around 3 o'clock most days, so I had a little bit of time to do some much needed shopping before the game. Remember how I told you about our jerseys last time, well, the one thing they were missing was a kick-ass logo on the front that said Really Really Big Show Softball. All good teams need marketable branding, so I designed the awesome logo you see on the page above, and decided I would buy some iron-on paper to print it out on and make it happen. When I got to the store I was immediately thrown into a hellish decision as I didn’t know which kind of paper to get. Do I get the one for light shirts, or for dark shirts? Why wouldn't they make a combo pack? What the hell category does red fall under anywayr? One package had a happy mom with a picture of a dog on her bright white shirt, while the other had that same stupid mom with a birthday cake on a black tee. This mental debating was doing me no good, so I just picked up the light shirt paper and paid my bill.
I decided the logo was a lost cause and headed back to Wal-Mart to buy a new shirt for myself. I also had to pick up one for Ally because Kimmy had used the orifinal one I had purchased for her last time. I walked back to the shirt aisle and was once again faced with a problem… what color red was I supposed to get? There was a dark red, and a darker red. Shit. I grabbed a sleeveless less-dark red for me and another shirt that I thought was a medium T-shirt for Ally and took off back for home. I was now running out of time, and I still had to doctor these bad-boys up before the game. When I got home the first thing I noticed was that I had once again made a bad decision, and had chosen the wrong red, of course. But I thought, the hell with it, and began marking on Ally’s shirt. She would be going by the nickname “Ally Kat,” all I could think of, and she’d better be happy about it because this wasn’t turning out to be a great day. I then went to mark on mine, but before marker hit cloth I made a game time decision to retire the name “Fancy Dan” and instead go with “Showtime.” This name change may be enough to get people's eyes off of my drastically different shirt, and on to my much more show-friendly name. So I packed my bags, jumped in the car and headed for the field. When I pulled up, Kaitlyn and Ally were already there. Kaitlyn was over buying a three dollar bottled water, so I decided to make a point of how much smarter I was by going to the free drinking fountain. I have no idea how many diseases I picked up with that one god-awful swallow, but I haven’t had a regular bowel movement since. Now who’s the smart one? I then presented Ally with her jersey and explained to the both of them why her shirt and my new shirt were different a color from everyone elses. Kaitlyn also asked about the logos I had promised. I reminded her that she had promised not to wear any more pink to the games, and that she had broken her end of the bargain too. Then all hell broke loose. As Ally was putting her shirt on, Kaitlyn noticed that I had gotten her cousin a small, but I had bought her a medium. Uh-oh. Kaitlyn accused me of thinking she was huge, and I had to backpedal my way out of that one, quick. The only thing I knew to do was to pull out my mutated "Fancy Dan" shirt from my bag and let the two of them turn their focus on to making fun of me. It worked. Then we went to the dugout.
The batting order had stayed pretty much the same as the previous week, with Ally taking Kimmy’s place in the lineup. Ally had just as much in-game experience as Kaitlyn had had the week before, which is to say, none. But she was excited to be there, and that’s really what counts. Being the visiting team, we were up to bat first, and low and behold we got an early lead. Andy got on base, Jess got a hit, and Mike and Stropes powered a few out to the outfield. Then came murder’s row of Ally, Kaitlyn, Staz and I, and the inning game to an end. I once again got on base while sacrificing Jamie at second… I thought I noticed her giving me dirty looks at that point forward.
Then there was my pitching. I had spent the previous week working on pitching and I felt like I had gotten the hang of it. I had developed a new motion that was much more accurate, and I had been working at a distance of 43 feet from the plate, which according to the Internet (which never lies) was the right length. Well, it wasn’t. The mound was actually 53ft away, and according to our new umpire, my new throwing motion was illegal. Then, as it turns out, my original motion was illegal too. When the third type of pitch I threw was also apparently the wrong way to do it, the dickhead ump walks out and says he’s going to throw me out of the game if I don’t get it right. Whoa, toss me from the game? Isn’t this Coed D-League? He then makes an ass out of me by walking through the finer points of pitching, and even goes to the mound to demonstrate. Even the "Fancy Dan" shirt couldn’t save me from this. I told Kaitlyn she needed to flirt with this guy more while behind the plate to help me get some calls, but I don’t think he was her type. I don’t think she was his type either… you know, because she’s a woman.
It was around this time that Stropes hit a killer shot out near the fence, and took off around the bases. He was blazing by everyone in his brand new black socks (that were to protect his delicate legs if he should have to slide again like in the first game). All was going fine until he tried to round third, slipped on the bag, and did a faceplant in the dirt. Our team erupted into what sounded like “are you okay,” and “that is the funniest thing I’ve ever seen” mixed together. I of course missed the whole thing because I was trying get a shot of the happy faces in our dugout. Damn all the bad luck. The dickhead ump overheard Stropes blaming his lack of cleats on the fall, That just left noodle arm to take the mound again, only to be corrected for illegal throwing motions again. I finally gave up the mound to Mike and took my place in the outfield. Though the other team won convincingly, the scoreboard gave no indication as to how close the game really was. Spirits were still high after the game as we all had a good time in defeat. Then, to top it all off, Andy invited us all over to his house for a cookout, and some cold beer. He failed to mention that the beer was a cheaper than cheap brand called Brigade, but I doubt that would have stopped us from coming over. Everyone but Jessie was able to make it, as she didn’t think being around drunk, foul-mouthed softball players would be good for her kids. Probably a good idea. When we got to Andy’s house, the ruckus began when Kaitlyn asked Andy to let his pit-bull, Diesel, out of his room. To put it gently, he was happy to see everyone. He even made a special trip onto Ally’s lap to great her and welcome her to his home. I don’t think she enjoyed it nearly as much as he did. Kaitlyn and Mike were able to calm him down a bit by playing with him as Andy began getting the food ready. I was on the couch talking to Kambria and Ally while Staz, and Jamie talked about school. Stropes was standing in the kitchen starring at the empty plates and waiting to unleash his hunger on the unsuspecting food. Andy, normally a world class cook was having a little trouble getting the grill started. After about 15 minutes of attempting to get a flame, something big happened, and he was nearly engulfed in an explosion. I saw this out of the corner of my eye as Ally and I were exchanging IU stories, and Kambria was making fun of Jon for something or other. I thought about attempting to help him, but it was much more fun to start telling embarrassing stories about other people in the room. Unfortunately, somehow the stories turned on me and it came out that I had lit my desk on fire, got locked out my office by a mouse, cause a blockade on Mass Ave, had trapped myself in my own car, and had been knocked out by my mom on my birthday while holding my birthday cake. Then I made some great joke about Stropes, which somehow backfired on me and I ended up with the nickname "BJ," which Ally and Kambria still call me to this day. It was around this time that I made the observation that Andy must be cooking these burgers with the hear from the sun, because this was the longest cook out in history. Finally he made his way inside with the food, and everyone grabbed a burger (minus the Blue Cheese which apparently everyone hates) and dug in. Stropes of course ate two before most people had made their first. I had filled up on Brigade beer during the marathon cooking session, so I did not partake, but it smelled good. Kaitlyn then made the observation that this must be how Andy gets all of his women, by cooking for them. I noted that he does cook for most of his ladies, but the meal is usually breakfast. We all had a good laugh at Andy’s expense, then slowly started to go our separate ways. We had long goodbyes as our next game wasn’t for two weeks, but that would give us sissies enough time to get together for practice. Ha, yeah right. |
Well, I was wrong about the paper type. After spending almost an hour trying to print out the damn logo, I grabbed my ironing board and began applying our logo to my "Fancy Dan" shirt. At first, things were going well as I followed each of the three instructions on the back of the packaging, all the while that stupid mom in the dog shirt starring at me. That is until I peeled the paper away and saw that my shirt was now sporting what looked to be a stone-washed version of my beautiful design. This was not good. Maybe if my team was playing in the 1994 Softball finals it would have been fine, but this was nearly a decade later, and I was about to join a group of people who love nothing more than to make fun of me. Well, they like making fun of Stropes a little more, but this shirt might put me in the lead.
Around this time more folks started showing up to the game. Ally and I were sitting in the dugout talking about the radio station while Kaitlyn was up near the concession stand attempting to “flirt with guys” as she put it. Jessie then walked up with her husband and two adorable little children who had come to watch mommy play. Then Kambria, who was nursing a sprained ankle, showed up, even though she’d earlier told us she wouldn’t be able to play. Finally, some good news. She was followed by Andy, Staz, Stropes, Mike, and Jamie. By the time the ump was calling for our batting order, we were all there except for Kimmy. Where the hell was she? Looks like Jess was moving to second base. A move she wasn't too excited about.
When we took the field, Kimmy had still not shown up, so we figured she was dead in a ditch somewhere, or worse. But, the game must go on, and so it did. Our fielding had improved a great deal from the week before with Jamie making some great plays at third, and Staz getting more involved in the outfield. Andy still hit the dirt more times an inning than anybody else, but that’s bound to happen when you dive for everything hit your way. Oh well, he gets an A for effort. Jess was also able to make a few plays at second, when not worrying about a speed-ball from Andy or Stropes hitting her in the face. This made her feel good as she was attempting to prove to her husband that she did in fact have some athletic prowess.
But anyway, even with my piss-poor pitching, we were able to keep it close. We even made a bit of a run in the fourth inning when Ally made contact with the ball and it rolled a total of 1 foot from the plate. This allowed her enough time to get on base due to her rocket like speed. Staz then followed suit by doing the exact same thing, and also ending up on base. Everyone was happy, except for Kaitlyn who was now the only one on the team without a hit. Mike, as was usually the case, was acting as a batting coach from the third base line. He would try and instruct her when to swing and when not to swing, and though he had good intentions, I’m sure of it, he sometimes told her to swing after the ball had gone past her, or when the ball falling nowhere near her. She took it well though, by pouting in the dugout in her medium sized shirt. Somehow this was going to be my fault too, I could feel it.
but was quick to point out that it wasn’t the shoes, it was that Stropes had no idea how to run bases. Man, this guy was a real prick. I thought Stropes was going to kill him. Our little run came to a crashing end when our power hitters ran out of juice and popped a few balls up high for outs and fouled out a few times as well.
