“You’ve Seen One Obscene Home Run, You’ve Seen Them All,” Notes Bored Pitcher
He dropped like a sack of potatoes.
I’ve had a few days to mull this over and thought this isn’t the most colorful way to describe what happened, I think it is totally accurate. More precisely, it was as if he was a living, breathing, active human and the next instant he was a sack of potatoes without any desire or ability to stay erect. He simply dropped to the gravel.
I imagined what it would be like if instead of a sack of potatoes, it was like he had been shot. For one thing, I think there would have been more of a reaction—a spin perhaps or some kind of motion to indicate that his flesh was being torn by the bullet. And there would have been blood.
Nor was it like he was struck by lightning, hit by a train, crushed by a trash compactor, crumpled like a terrific auto accident. Compared to these things, it was ordinary: a man is standing there minding his own business and a split second later he falls to the ground as if he had been turned into a very large sack of potatoes.
Just before he fell Steve was thinking to himself, “I might get this one and save the day.†Just before he fell Keith was thinking, “Steve better run hard if he’s going to get that one.†Just before he fell, I was thinking “Holy crap did he hit that ball a long ways.â€
Just before he fell we have no idea what he was thinking. One could imagine that he was thinking about the normal things that a short stop thinks about in E-league softball. Something like “I hope I get to make a play this inning,†or “Please God don’t let them hit it to me.â€
Before Steve thought he might catch the ball, the batter was stewing about what he perceived as a bad call on his previous pitch. He was red hot—this Umpire was unfair to him and he wasn’t going to take it anymore! He was sick and tired of being pushed around and in lieu of actually striking her with the bat, he was going to show the whole wide world what a terrific mistake she made by hitting this ball harder than he had ever hit a ball ever.
In the inning before the batter got so pissed about being slighted by the Umpire, there was an inning where the B-Squad had to achieve five outs to retire the side due to poor officiating. It was so clearly wrong that the Umpire apologized after the game, stating “I don’t know what went wrong tonight—I really screwed you guys.â€
Before the five out inning, an incremental out was levied against the B-Squad because Bricker, in a display of poor athleticism rather than poor sportsmanship, ran into the second basemen preventing him from throwing out the runner at first. The second basemen was a solid two twenty and the only person who was damaged in the exchange was the Bricker who bounced off him like he had run into a wall.
Before all of that, before the outs and the officiating and the bad call and the pissed batter there was a dispute about who was supposed to bring the beer. The last out of the “offical†game belonged to Tom Burrell, but the “O.K. you beat the snot out of us, lets bat around again†inning was ended by Sean Zindren. Tom did not show up with beer but was hounded to run for some. As soon as he left Sean showed up with icy cold Grain Belt. When Tom returned we had plenty to go around.
And the B-Squad went around, getting a handful of hits and scoring a few runs. Birthday Boy Mike Black was on fire with a couple of hits, great catches in the outfield (two in one inning), and some tough pinch running. He had his best game in memory, and his memory is still good since he is just turning 30.
Unfortunately, the Tierny guys went around more than we did. For example, the
aforementioned batter, so slighted by the poor call, scored a home run by hitting the ball so far that it struck the SHORTSTOP of the team ON THE OTHER FIELD. It hit him in the shoulder, and as previously noted he dropped like a sack of potatoes. After rounding the bases, he meandered across the two fields to find out if the unlucky soul who had been in the way of his rage was going to survive. I’m pleased to report that he walked off the field, but no doubt will be anxiously looking over his shoulder while playing infield in the future.
Tierny hit a bunch like that, though only one that came close to killing another player. We caught a few, we ran after the rest. So the score wasn’t favorable to the Dagomen and we were forced to retreat to our Dusty sanctuary to lick our wounds and prepare for another day. What a surprise, then, to find that Mike’s charming and delightful wife had not only allowed him to spend his 30th with a bunch of lousy softball colleagues, but also she had brought a cake to the bar. After Dagos were served it was summarily consumed with all the gusto of someone who can hit the ball into the infield of the neighboring ball diamond.
Cape Notes: Dave Oh, owner of the cape this previous week, set the standard for not only how to look great but when to look great. He wore the cape for batting, fielding, and socializing after the game. He reluctantly but graciously turned the cape over to Mr. Mike Black who earned it by not only living another year but also having a bang up game. Congratulations Mike!