I’m not one for signs, but it certainly didn’t look good for the B-Squad when first batter of the new season jacked the first pitch well over our deepest outfielder and trotted comfortably around the bases while our boys chased the wayward ball. Three or four of his colleagues came up and hit and then another guy hit a home run and then we got to sit down.
Same old same old.
Same old beautiful weather. Same old field. Same old ump. Same old guys, though just a little older and a little more same. Friendly, but not a lot of fight in ‘em. Or so it seemed on the top of the first inning.
Then we batted. And batted, and batted and batted. Many guys got up, scored base hits, advanced runners and at the bottom of the first inning we had scored three runs. But what really fired up the B-Squad was the presence of all those hitters.
The same thing happened in the second. Sure, we got six-runned by the gifted Target squad. But we scraped out five or six hits and scored a few runs. We weren’t just taking our lumps. We dished out a lump or two ourselves, which felt like a million bucks.
I’ve often called out the batting order and then provided the following administrative guidance: “Everybody hits!†I push this kind of vacant boosterism not just because I have no other practical advice, but also because I want everyone to feel successful. Plus the more people that hit, the more I get to call out the batting order which is fun for me. I sometimes wish I had a megaphone for calling out the batting order. That would be cool.
In this game, though, people did seem to hit. I don’t think it was my encouragement. I think it was the batting practice. The guidance of Dr. Richards was often noted as the inspiration for success on the field. In fact, in the first ten batters everyone who was at practice got a hit, everyone who wasn’t got an out.
Last year we averaged 13 hits per game. Our lowest games we had just eight hits, in our best game we had 18. This week we got TWENTY HITS and twelve runs. And while the Target fellows did way better than that, I count it quite an accomplishment.
As Keith says, “softball is an easy game.†He should know, he got a home run!
Speaking of accomplishments, I’d like to recognize Gary for winning the cape. After a terrific Harlem Globetrotter move jukin’ and playin’ with a foul tip, he secured the ball between his knees. Quick shout out to Mr. Tom Burrell who after surveying the team on the color of the balls we wanted, ended up buying girl-sized softballs. And finally, I’d like to formally bench Keekley. I’ve been trying to do that for a variety of reasons—yet he keeps playing. Keeks—you are totally benched.