By Joe Monkeyweb
BOX SCORE
LEAGUE LEADERS
Older. Fatter. Slower. That's me.
And so the gang is back again under the lights at Jimmy Walker. Mostly old faces. Good to see everyone.
It could have been a disaster this evening. It's Easter, we don't have a key, no original permit. But the door was open, the field beckoning to us, Come Play With Me! No problem there. Play Ball!
And play ball we did. A pretty tight game given how early it is in the season. The teams were Ham and Brisket. I'm not sure which team I was on, but we lost 13-12. It was a back and forth battle. We took an early 1-0 lead, and then we had one of those innings and they surged to a 5-1 lead. We chipped a way a bit and made it 5-2, which held for a while. Then some more bullshit happened and it was 5-2. Our team was plucky as hell and we marched back to take the lead by a run. Then they went up by one and later stretched it to 10-7, which became 13-8. In a last fit of resistance, we clawed back to 13-12 with 2 out and 10 minutes to go in the bottom of the "ninth," but there we fell short. We just couldn't overcome the fact that they had two professional athletes on their team.
Given the strength of the other team, we probably should have lost by a lot more, but we had heart and spunk. And we cheated only a tiny bit. I can't hit the ball much further than 70 feet in the air. That's depressing. And I am so gotdam slow that I think it may be faster for me to walk to first than to run. Whatever, I am going to make a concerted effort to improve my hitting this year.
Some notes on the field. Overall, it's in decent shape. However, there's still a fucking pit in the batter's box. We need to fix that. Also, the fucking lights are out in Right Field, which makes it exceedingly difficult to see. Also, it's kind of lonely and cold and spooky in Right Field without the lights. I was sad when I was out there. Left Field doesn't smell bad yet.
Speaking of Left Field, I made a pretty rookie mistake this evening when I let a chick try to throw a homerun ball back in to the field. She was sturdy-lookin' and I felt confident that she could do it. So she wound up and threw the ball, and sure enough--clank!--it bounced off the fence and into the garden where we now know a softball tree will not grow. Gas Face to me for that and to the sturdy-lookin' chick with the bad arm.
The game itself was kind of boring to be honest. However, some guys already seem to be in midseason form. Ambrose showed that the new steroid program he is on is working out just fine. He was raking the ball all over and running almost as fast as Dan Russell for most of the night. Justin sent a ball screaming into the night air for a called homer. I actually heard the ball screaming as it left the yard. Jon had a fine game, too. Hveem came wearing baseball pants. When a man shows up wearing baseball pants, you know he is to be taken seriously. And Hveem was such a man tonight. He was throwing the ball all over the damn place, turning DPs and gunning guys out at home. Lex (the Outfield Puma) was in good form in Left.
And then other guys clearly are not there yet. I won't be in midseason form until late next season. Sandals and Kissel both drew the collar. That's a real accomplishment in our league. The baserunning was atrocious, but as bad as it was, there was only one hotbox and a lousy one at that. Clearly, we will need to hone those skills again.
The scorekeeping is pretty funny. I'm not so sure how long it will last, but there were a couple of times when you could see that the official scorer was getting real nervous. It happened to Pete first, when he just couldn't keep up with the multiple errors committed on one horrible play. He looked shaken. Then Ambrose ran into the same problem and told people he needed quiet for a minute while he filled in what the guy did from 2 at bats prior. If it makes people anxious and lends itself to argument, I'm all for it.
No real arguments tonight, although it's a lot of fun to watch Sandals and Ambrose yammer about whether or not "he's callin' it!"
Oh, and there was a heckler. He called me John Kruk. Fucking heckler. He was pretty funny though. And mean. He called a big guy on our team "Balboni." Props to Balboni for ripping a clutch hit in the face of the heckling.
And so it goes. Pretty boring recap, and frankly, a pretty boring game. But boring in a good way. We've been doing this for years now. We know each other and fall right back into the same old silly banter. God bless America and Jimmy Walker Field.
Monday, April 17, 2006
Monday, April 10, 2006
4.9.6: One for the Books
BOX SCORE
Let me be clear right now. You are not getting a full-fledged, masterfully crafted, Kois-level recap this week. I am too busy and it took me at least an hour to set up this new site here.
You're welcome for that.
So we played the softball on Sunday night. Good weather, good fun, good hotboxes. Soccer douches encroaching down the right field line at 8:17 pm like they own the place. It was like we never left. You should have been there. Oh, you were? That was you? Holy shit. Man you look different. Did you lose weight or something? A girdle, huh? I haven't considered that, but maybe I will.
We had fifteen men on this fine April evening. Joe Monkeyweb was a late scratch due to a case of adult-onset adulthood. Joe, it'll probably get worse before it gets better.
Still no key for the lock. The drama builds. This week we had no problem getting in. Let's hope our hot streak continues. Or that D. Lee strikes gold this week. Or steel.
It was a reasonably late-arriving crowd, but not too bad. We messed around for about fifteen minutes and popped a few rotator cuffs and then it was time to play ball.
The first game was an old fashioned blowout, 9-0 Disco (us) over Rock (them). I will come clean and tell you that those are two names I just made up, because somehow we forgot to do it on Sunday. That won't happen again. It was a laugher. I am proud to tell you that I hit the first Called Shot HR of the season, a 3-run job in the 3rd onto Waveland...er...Leroy. Big Jim Lang also muscled up with a 3-run shot in the 6th, and Disco also received multi-hit performances from Lex, Doug, Mark, Chris L. and Pete. We played the field with grace and precision, turning several double plays and standing around absorbing just how great we were.
It was an old-fashioned slaughter.
The reset button was pressed, and Game 2 saw Rock dip into the free agent pile for Cey A., who provided an immediate spark on offense, finishing 3 for 3 with a run scored. Whether it was Cey's addition or just the natural human response to humiliation (which is of course anger and the desire to line solid base hits all over the field), Rock came out for Game 2 with a fire in their collective belly and several other awkward cliches. Back and forth it went, with Deion providing the first two thunderous drum beats on a scoreboard-doinking natural homer in the top of the first. Pete B. kept Disco on the dance floor with his first HR of the year, a 2-run called shot to right center in the 5th. Heading into the bottom of the 8th and final inning, Rock was hanging on 9-7 and looking as nervous as Richard Marx on the main stage at Ozzfest. Disco stayed alive by putting men on second and third with one out, and sent Doug to the plate with early season pride on the line. He responded with a hard chopper towards Eddie at first. The ball hit the ungroomed lip of the first base "dirt" and bounced high over Eddie's head. One run scored and Doug rounded first, brilliantly luring Rock into a time-consuming hotbox (the second of the game). While Rock concentrated on getting Doug out, Mark rounded third and broke for home, scoring easily with the tying run. It was now 8:57 and I figured we needed something big. Having used up my called shot already, I attempted to go for a natural HR but instead popped out to short. Then BJL tried the same thing, hitting a majestic drive in the general direction of the scoreboard. There was a moment where we thought maybe he'd done it, but the ball had too much carry and it sailed over the fence for an inning-ending, game-ending homer. But not the good kind.
TWIS Notes:
1) As you may have noticed, we have implemented a rudimentary stat-keeping system. Everyone was kinda skeptical at first, but maybe once they see that they are leading the league in hitting come June they'll start to wallow in their own dorkiness and have some fun with it. Thoughts on stats:
a) We will try to get it into an excel spreadsheet at some point so we can actually keep running tallies and averages, etc without doing everything manually.
b) As of now, we are only keeping AB's, runs, hits, RBI and HR's of all kinds (natural, called, and inning-ending). No doubles or triples so if you are thinking about emailing me to tell me you hit three doubles, kindly fuck off instead. Or take over as official statistician.
c) The official scorer dilemma kind of solved itself -- whoever is holding the book at that moment makes the judgment of hit vs. error. He is the scorer in every sense of the word. Or at least two senses of the word. I think he should have to yell it out in some stupid way or maybe hold up a sign that says "hit" on one side and "error" on the other, just to maximize our tremendous stupidity.
d) Everybody needs to either know how to keep score or pass the book to somebody who does. The scorecards were a bit of a mess, so don't complain if you think your stats are off by an RBI or a double. I'm telling you, if you mention the word "double" I am going to box your ears. Lex pointed out that he never learned how to keep score, and it hadn't been a problem until now. His life seems to have been no less rich for lack of filling out Yankee-Brewer scorecards from 1983. I don't really know what I'm getting at here, just that we need to be conscientious with the scoring if there is any hope of it continuing.
e) After approximately 8 seconds of debate, it was decided that any batter hitting an IEHR will be charged with as many at-bats as outs resulted on the play. In other words, if you hit an inning ender with nobody out, that's a quick 0 for 3. We can revise this if somebody can give me a good reason.
f) What do you think about the scoring? Is it fun? Is it a waste of time? Is it painfully juvenile? Any improvements you'd like to see (besides doubles)?
2) A Dunkin Donuts opened up across Hudson street. I can't help but think this will factor in big at some point down the line.
3) The night is too short. I find myself constantly rushing, mostly thanks to the soccer wanks, and it definitely inhibits my good time. I also forgot to bring Tall Boys for the first and final time this season. That'll help. Munchkins and Bud, mmmmm.
4) Please note that we are moving the signup sheet to this page (upper right), so everything will be self-contained. Please remember to sign up and don't fess, front, or otherwise screw things for the rest of us.
5) In this space here, please feel free to submit your suggestions for the following week's team names (in addition to any other brilliant comments you'd like to leave). We'll pick a good one and bank the rest for later.
6) We paid for lights and one bank of lights is completely out, leaving a rather dangerous void on the right side of the field. Anybody want to call the Parks department to see if they can fix it? What's that, you say you'd rather just bitch about it amongst ourselves for the rest of the season? Yeah, me too.
7) I am sore, sore like hanging drywall sore or wrestling wolverines sore, like I used parts of me that I never used before and should never use again.
Let me be clear right now. You are not getting a full-fledged, masterfully crafted, Kois-level recap this week. I am too busy and it took me at least an hour to set up this new site here.
You're welcome for that.
So we played the softball on Sunday night. Good weather, good fun, good hotboxes. Soccer douches encroaching down the right field line at 8:17 pm like they own the place. It was like we never left. You should have been there. Oh, you were? That was you? Holy shit. Man you look different. Did you lose weight or something? A girdle, huh? I haven't considered that, but maybe I will.
We had fifteen men on this fine April evening. Joe Monkeyweb was a late scratch due to a case of adult-onset adulthood. Joe, it'll probably get worse before it gets better.
Still no key for the lock. The drama builds. This week we had no problem getting in. Let's hope our hot streak continues. Or that D. Lee strikes gold this week. Or steel.
It was a reasonably late-arriving crowd, but not too bad. We messed around for about fifteen minutes and popped a few rotator cuffs and then it was time to play ball.
The first game was an old fashioned blowout, 9-0 Disco (us) over Rock (them). I will come clean and tell you that those are two names I just made up, because somehow we forgot to do it on Sunday. That won't happen again. It was a laugher. I am proud to tell you that I hit the first Called Shot HR of the season, a 3-run job in the 3rd onto Waveland...er...Leroy. Big Jim Lang also muscled up with a 3-run shot in the 6th, and Disco also received multi-hit performances from Lex, Doug, Mark, Chris L. and Pete. We played the field with grace and precision, turning several double plays and standing around absorbing just how great we were.
It was an old-fashioned slaughter.
The reset button was pressed, and Game 2 saw Rock dip into the free agent pile for Cey A., who provided an immediate spark on offense, finishing 3 for 3 with a run scored. Whether it was Cey's addition or just the natural human response to humiliation (which is of course anger and the desire to line solid base hits all over the field), Rock came out for Game 2 with a fire in their collective belly and several other awkward cliches. Back and forth it went, with Deion providing the first two thunderous drum beats on a scoreboard-doinking natural homer in the top of the first. Pete B. kept Disco on the dance floor with his first HR of the year, a 2-run called shot to right center in the 5th. Heading into the bottom of the 8th and final inning, Rock was hanging on 9-7 and looking as nervous as Richard Marx on the main stage at Ozzfest. Disco stayed alive by putting men on second and third with one out, and sent Doug to the plate with early season pride on the line. He responded with a hard chopper towards Eddie at first. The ball hit the ungroomed lip of the first base "dirt" and bounced high over Eddie's head. One run scored and Doug rounded first, brilliantly luring Rock into a time-consuming hotbox (the second of the game). While Rock concentrated on getting Doug out, Mark rounded third and broke for home, scoring easily with the tying run. It was now 8:57 and I figured we needed something big. Having used up my called shot already, I attempted to go for a natural HR but instead popped out to short. Then BJL tried the same thing, hitting a majestic drive in the general direction of the scoreboard. There was a moment where we thought maybe he'd done it, but the ball had too much carry and it sailed over the fence for an inning-ending, game-ending homer. But not the good kind.
TWIS Notes:
1) As you may have noticed, we have implemented a rudimentary stat-keeping system. Everyone was kinda skeptical at first, but maybe once they see that they are leading the league in hitting come June they'll start to wallow in their own dorkiness and have some fun with it. Thoughts on stats:
a) We will try to get it into an excel spreadsheet at some point so we can actually keep running tallies and averages, etc without doing everything manually.
b) As of now, we are only keeping AB's, runs, hits, RBI and HR's of all kinds (natural, called, and inning-ending). No doubles or triples so if you are thinking about emailing me to tell me you hit three doubles, kindly fuck off instead. Or take over as official statistician.
c) The official scorer dilemma kind of solved itself -- whoever is holding the book at that moment makes the judgment of hit vs. error. He is the scorer in every sense of the word. Or at least two senses of the word. I think he should have to yell it out in some stupid way or maybe hold up a sign that says "hit" on one side and "error" on the other, just to maximize our tremendous stupidity.
d) Everybody needs to either know how to keep score or pass the book to somebody who does. The scorecards were a bit of a mess, so don't complain if you think your stats are off by an RBI or a double. I'm telling you, if you mention the word "double" I am going to box your ears. Lex pointed out that he never learned how to keep score, and it hadn't been a problem until now. His life seems to have been no less rich for lack of filling out Yankee-Brewer scorecards from 1983. I don't really know what I'm getting at here, just that we need to be conscientious with the scoring if there is any hope of it continuing.
e) After approximately 8 seconds of debate, it was decided that any batter hitting an IEHR will be charged with as many at-bats as outs resulted on the play. In other words, if you hit an inning ender with nobody out, that's a quick 0 for 3. We can revise this if somebody can give me a good reason.
f) What do you think about the scoring? Is it fun? Is it a waste of time? Is it painfully juvenile? Any improvements you'd like to see (besides doubles)?
2) A Dunkin Donuts opened up across Hudson street. I can't help but think this will factor in big at some point down the line.
3) The night is too short. I find myself constantly rushing, mostly thanks to the soccer wanks, and it definitely inhibits my good time. I also forgot to bring Tall Boys for the first and final time this season. That'll help. Munchkins and Bud, mmmmm.
4) Please note that we are moving the signup sheet to this page (upper right), so everything will be self-contained. Please remember to sign up and don't fess, front, or otherwise screw things for the rest of us.
5) In this space here, please feel free to submit your suggestions for the following week's team names (in addition to any other brilliant comments you'd like to leave). We'll pick a good one and bank the rest for later.
6) We paid for lights and one bank of lights is completely out, leaving a rather dangerous void on the right side of the field. Anybody want to call the Parks department to see if they can fix it? What's that, you say you'd rather just bitch about it amongst ourselves for the rest of the season? Yeah, me too.
7) I am sore, sore like hanging drywall sore or wrestling wolverines sore, like I used parts of me that I never used before and should never use again.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)