OK, I'll say it again. Because I can. Wow.
On another note, chalk one up for age and treachery. Tonight our softball team (not that old...at 46 I'm the oldest guy on the team but we have another 40-something and the rest a smattering of 20-30 year olds) took on a hotshot set of 20-somethings with a 4-1 record who evidently beat us the first game of the season (I was out of town during that game). Well, tonight was a different story. We spanked them 15-9 I think. I missed a game-ending sinking line drive in the bottom of the 7th, making it closer than it should have been (hey, nobody's perfect).
The reason it was so sweet wasn't the win so much as the fact that the other team was *so* freakin' uptight. I hate teams that get together and do a little cheer between innings. Please. This is C-league softball in Culver City. The pitcher was especially annoying...he had trouble throwing strikes and kept getting pissed at the umpire. Sorry son, but just because you suck is no reason to take it out on blue. At one point between innings he was being restrained by his teammates. Wanker.
The sweet justice came at the end of the game (where I went 3-4, but that's not important other than to my stat-ego). The had runners on base and we were trying to close them out. I'd misplayed a hard knuckler line drive that should have been the 3rd out, then a few more errors in the field (not by me thankfully) and they picked up a couple of runs. Then their pitcher comes up with 2 outs and runners in scoring position. He looks at the first pitch and it is a strike. You only get two strikes in this league, so essentially he had a 0-2 count. The next pitch came and he took it. For strike three. What a moron. He started bitching about how the pitch was low (this is 12' arc where the pitch has to arc above the batter's head and below 12'). Doesn't matter Bucko. You just looked at strike three to end the game. As Nelson says, "ha ha." His 3rd base coach was walking past me and said, "that pitch was low," to which I replied, "doesn't matter, this is a hitter's game...you can't take that pitch especially with the game on the line." He looked and me and nodded.
Chalk one up for the oldster. I'm sure I'll fall down next week or the week after, but who cares. After all, I'll wager that these boys won't be playing when they reach my age. And if so, they won't be hitting over .850. Heh...
