I again apologize for the lack of posts. On vacay with the fam-dam for a while, so the entries have been nonexistent. Here we go:
Nothing much happened on the week before I took a hiatus. Dix N Chix lost again miserably. Awful start, clawed back late. Way late. By the time we were ready to play, the opposition were already packing their equipment, enjoying their easy win.
The heat was kind of an issue with all of us. We were kind of listless when we took the field. It was tough to care when one: you team is losing, very badly. and two: when it's hot as fuck, and all you're doing when you move, is breathe fire in and out of your lungs. Anyway, it was a bad scene.
I went 0 for 3 at the plate. All horrible, lazy hits.
The umpire at the game looked exactly like Jesse Litsch, that fat dickskin that used to pitch for the Blue Jays. After the game, he mentioned to me that I was reaching for every ball that I swung at. Everything out of the strike zone. I thought about it long after the game was over, and then I said, 'fuck that fat piece of shit Jesse-Litsch-lookalike! I'll swing at whatever I want!'
I think maybe next time though, I'll swing the bat with my eyes open.
This week's edition of Dix N Chix were a completely different team. We were loud, confident, and had flashes of being fundamentally sound. I found myself growling from the outfield, and I could feel the opposition, unfortunately named The Poisonous BeeYotches, shitting their pants a little.
I hit a leadoff home run to start the game, the first of my three hits of the game. A couple of things led to a change in my productivity at the plate: first, during my vacation time with the family, I snuck out to the batting cages and refined a couple of things to transition me into a pull hitter. I came into the game confident of pulling anything, including my nuts. Second, our regular home run hitter brought in a new bat to break in. I love using new things. His bat had an odd weight distribution to it, where it was heavy on the end, and was hard to get the body used to it. The bat was tailored for my swing, which was slow and lumbering.
I ripped the ball down the third base line for a triple on my second at bat. I am now a pull hitter.
The team were showing improvement on the defensive side. We were communicating well, defending, and even backing each other up, which I never thought would catch on. We were pretty good on the basepaths as well, showing a lot of hustle, making the BeeYotches look like the real deal, making error after error on their throws.
My last at bat. Bottom of the last inning, the 7th or whatever it was. Two out. Game tied. Runners in scoring position. I loved that situation. Put me in that place every time and I'll always come through. Not this time, though, as I hit into a fielder's choice, and I'm growling and freaking out, wanting to do it over again.
We are getting close.
