Last Night's Line

Team lost 15-5.  At the beginning of the game we finally received our shirts.  Baby blue with 'DIX AND CHIX,' in hot pink.  At least now we can say that we lose in a colourful manner.

I went 0 for 2, lining out hard both times.  My swing is fucked.

Caught a ball hit on a line, and I nonchalantly got it.  I made an outfielder's motion to indicate the outs, and some guy on the other team called me Colby.

I prefer Cletus, myself.

My Team This Year(with Last Night's Line)

So, I'm weeks into my new slo-pitch team.  It's been years since I made MVP of the league in Hamilton.  I was so meticulous with stats then.  Now, I don't even bother.

I know this year, I've hit a grand slam, 2 triples, lots of legged out singles.  This year, is about fun.  I stress 'fun,' every game, since losing isn't at all part of my makeup.  And all we do is lose.  I think we're 0-8 this season.

I'm patrolling either right or left center in the outfield, and can run anything down.  When I first started playing at a late age, I didn't want anyone to hit it my way.  I prayed at every at bat that nobody would hit the ball to me to expose the flaws of my defence.  I really prayed until I tried to catch a lazy fly ball with my chest.  I remember playing the rest of that season with what felt like some cracked ribs.  These days, I can't wait for chumps to hit it my way.

Last night's game was the worst night to play, with the day's heat just lingering on.  It just felt like my cleats melted on the grass.  I made a boneheaded groundball play where it went between my legs.  A lazy fly ball that I got to, trickled off my glove.  I finally made a play for the year with a line drive putout.  I felt like Cletus Rasmus at center, making it look routine, which I may say, is not a bad thing.  The mercy rule was put upon us, 20-5.  Yuck.

I'm also a pesky baserunner.  I run hard at everything, because the coach on my first team would have my head if I didn't hustle and use my speed on the basepaths.  Last night, I slid hard at 2 bases.  The guys on the other team liked the intense way I played.  I'm the only one out there getting dirty.  Maybe I should have hooked up with them.

 My batting swing this year is totally fucked.  I'm usually a straight line drive hitter, but this year I feel totally out of shape, and it feels like I'm not hitting with any authority.  There's this guy on my team that hits huge home runs, and after talking with him and what he goes through in his head at every at bat, my swing is as worse as ever.  He recommended that I quit going the opposite way and start extending my arms and pull the ball.  The results are brutal.

Anyway, dear readers, I'll keep you posted.  This is supposed to be 'fun,' right?

Sweet Dream . . .

I made it.  I was freaking out on Kelly Johnson and maybe Luis Perez over the major league level showers.  I was jumping up and down in front of them and they were giggling.  I was in awe.  

My role was to cover Colby Rasmus at center.  I was shagging flies with him out on the field and was amazed at how much ground he covered, his glove was a magnet to all those fly balls.  It was impossible for me to do what he does.  Just last week, I misjudged an easy fly at softball.  Nevertheless, John Farrell said, "if Colby's out, you're in," which was a great boost for my confidence.

After warm-up, the guys decided to have a round of  'bieber my balls,' where we all gathered in a circle and knee'd each other in the crotch, crane-style.  Extra points were given to the guys who got both knees in.  Jason Frasor was my partner, and he was easy to bieber.

After my turn, I realized that it was close to game time, and I was out of uniform.  I was sitting on a bench in front of the lockers watching Colby Rasmus hurriedly getting dressed.  Right beside his locker was mine, getting restocked, I just sat there marvelling over my last name in blue and white.

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