There are some things, I have come to realize, that one should not do while drunk. Flying a chopper. Free-climbing a sheer mountain face. Committing a complicated bank heist that took four years to plan.
And, it turns out, playing softball.
I discovered this last fact on Sunday evening. By my loose and unofficial tally, I cost my team (Tits) a total of 10 runs in a 16-8 (?) loss to Ass that was actually closer than it sounds. I did it in every way you can imagine: through fielding incompetence, batting ineptitude, and baserunning boneheadedness. I even threw in some shaky strategizing. Normally an average player, I was reduced to a whimpering, sweating clown, incapable of anything more than hurling unecessary and belligerent insults at Ass's pitchers. The cause of my embarrasing behavior: Budweiser, King of Beers.
I've played basketball drunk a few times and that is a real fucking adventure. It's a weird sensation when someone passes you the ball alone under the basket and you shoot it like 5 feet over the rim. It's basically impossible, drunken basketball. I have friends who say marijuana basketball is actually pretty fun. I think it was Deion who told me that he played stoned a few times and he was seeing passing angles he'd normally never see, he was trying cool shit that he'd never think to try. My boss told me he played hoops on acid and played better than he had ever had before -- he says he thinks he also dunked in that game for the only time in his life. But he may have been hallucinating. Anyway, basketball is a tough sport to play and it only follows that it would be a tough sport to play drunk. But softball? Softball is an easy fucking game. That is why many of us drink beers on the field each week. That is why guys with huge round bellies and sore backs can be considered the greatest players in the world.
But even in softball, at a certain point you gotta stop drinking, or at least slow down, or you will look like a fool. Softball is capable of humbling a drunkard.
On to the game. The night started out the way it always does: DLee defeating me in a round of rock, paper, scissors for the 1st pick. He moved to 36-2 lifetime with the win, and he's definitely crawled into my brainspace. He's sitting on my brain sofa, watching my brain HDTV, eating my brain Fritos. I can't shake the guy. He chose Jungle Cat James with the pick, and it proved to be a wise move. The Cat prowled the outfield all night like, well, a Jungle Cat. Several times he leaped up against the fence, cigarette in his meat hand, to rob our hitters of hits. Each time it left us shaking our heads in frustration and thinking about how much we wish our parents had done as JCJ's did, injecting their child with Jaguar DNA at birth.
In fact, seeing the Cat in action underscores perhaps the least talked-about and most important factor in winning or losing Sunday Night Softball games: Speed (and its sometime companion, Hustle). Fast guys are a pain in the ass to play against. If they're not tracking down shots to the gap, they're turning off-target throws to first base into standup triples. Oh, to be fast. Skinny, intelligent, handsome, motivated, well-endowed. Oh, to be those things too.
Since it was Memorial Day weekend, I decided to be the Guy Who Overdid It at the Barbecue, minus the barbecue. I started drinking at around 6:52 and kept pouring 'em down all game long. The game went to 9:30 because the soccer players had taken the night off, presumably to honor the memories of all the French and Italian war heroes who fell in battle. This extra half hour of playing/drinking hurt me bad.
The game itself was a back and forth battle, with Ass finally opening it up in like the 38th inning at around 8:55. Some high/lowlights:
-CSHR's from DLee, Richie's Baseball Pants, The New Guy Who Took Things a Little Too Seriously (did he actually call it? none of our players saw him do so), Handsome Andrew, Jungle Cat?, and maybe a couple more. I don't remember; I was quite drunk.
-Handsome Andrew brought our old basketball buddy Bruce, and after a shaky start, Bruce made a very nice positive contribution, including a couple of fine plays out in CF. He also doinked one right off the very top of the fence, which was cool.
-I struck out batting lefty. Last lefty at-bat of the year for me.
-In one of the early innings, our team scored two runs but could have had a few more were it not for some shitty baserunning. And, predictably, it was All My Fault. I hollered at Julian to run on a deep fly ball, insisting at the top of my lungs, "It's Off The Fence!" Of course Jon caught it on the warning track and Julian was doubled off first. Then on a basehit to left, my third base coach told me to keep running as I rounded the base. Seeing James about to gun me out, I slammed on the brakes. When his throw sailed high I decided to make a break for it. Unfortunately, The New Guy Who Took Things a Little Too Seriously quickly picked up the bad throw and tagged me out in between third and home before I could even mount a decent hotbox. That guy was fast.
-I let one groundball go through my legs and I fell down trying to pick up another after I had booted it. I almost cried.
-I also threw the ball away every chance I had. One of my bad throws led to the Official Pep Boys Presents: The Moment The Wheels Came Off for this game. We were down like 10-8 and Handsome Andrew hit a grounder to me at 3rd base. I actually fielded it cleanly, but my throw to first was way off target and Joe M. couldn't grab it. It was at this point that Joe was faced with a decision: do I run after the ball (which at this point was rolling into the corner), or do I just try to tackle Handsome Andrew and turn this game into an official farce? He chose the latter, but H.A. was tough to bring down, so Joe decided he'd go get the ball after all. H.A. was by this time headed to third, and Joe's throw back to me was off target. I probably could have grabbed it, but I forgot that I was allowed to step away from the base in pursuit of the throw. The ball got past me and H.A. scampered home with a big run. Tits had officially gotten sloppy. I was blaming myself, but BJL pointed out that Joe M. needed a good chewing out for his attempted takedown on H.A., so I delivered a "come on, man" type speech that I'm sure Joe appreciated. At this point in the evening, I had officially become a drunken asshole -- nothing more, nothing less. Joe and I were at odds the rest of the night. He threw rocks across the diamond at me, as he is prone to do from time to time.
-I was yelling at everybody. James made me mad when he came home with like their fourteenth run as I drunkenly stumbled after a throw that had gotten away from me. I kept having to remind myself to STFU. I was angry at myself but taking it out on others, and even though I was aware that this was what was happening, I couldn't stop it. I actually promised myself that at the end of the game, I would take five minutes alone to pull myself together. I thought somehow that I could achieve inner tranquility and outward humility in the span of just a couple of long, reflective minutes. Never happened.
-Towards the end, I put myself at catcher to minimize my potential for destruction. But the ball still found me. One two-hop throw hit me right in the tip of my penis, which was pretty symbolic of how my night had fallen apart.
A few of us went out for impromptu food and beers after the game. We went to that place Mr. Dennehy's on Carmine street. I kind of hate it there but I don't know why. Then Pete and I ended up at The Stoned Crow (possible finalist for "Worst Bar in NYC" reader survey) on Washington Place. We got in an argument with some mildly irritating British people about rock and roll. One of them had never even heard of The Kinks. They kept trying to tell us Coldplay was good. Being drunk, obnoxious Yanks, we just couldn't let that stand. It all ended peacefully enough, with Pete and I drunkenly recommending some NYC tourist attractions. At one point, I think I said, "Wow, you're only here a week - what are you doing in this shithole? There are a lot of good places in this city." I think I halfeartedly floated a "Wanna hit 7B?" out there at one point, but Pete was wise enough to shoot it down quickly.
After that, I went home. My wife looked at me and said, "You're drunk." I was like, um, lemme take a shower. When I got out of the shower, she had gone to sleep. I crawled quietly into bed next to her. Mercy had found me at last.
Monday, May 28, 2007
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
5.20.07: cops and cops
by pbdotc aka the wayward O
this was the first game of the 2007 season that felt like summer. the sun stayed out late, there was some passing weather, and the turnout was heavy. since nobody names the teams any more, i've gone ahead and named hans's team "the retired police officers" and d. lee's team "the off-duty police officers."
the game featured a good bit of offense and the regular amount of hideously booted ground balls. one especially poor play was mine at short stop; in the "7th inning," with 1 out and runners on first and second, I went to my right to catch a ground ball and -- amazingly perhaps -- came up with it. however, i failed to make the exchange and get the ball to third and the effort was for naught as everybody was safe. the next batter hit a two-run double and the batter after that -- deion sandals -- cranked a three-run, called-shot donger.
the five-run meltdown was the featured offensive outburst in the game, which ended 15-13.
despite the loss, the retired police officers had their moments. after --- jebus --- i got picked off trying to stretch leigh's base hit from first to third, leigh, who had advanced to second on the play, came home to score on a hard slide. i can't remember who the batter was - john quinn probably - but the play at the plate was cold-blooded and javier who was at catcher pretty much never saw it coming. there was a good deal of dust and a lot of cheers and no injuries. the hard slide picked us up and we felt like we were going to sail after that.
but the off-duty police officers had other ideas. and javier would have his revenge later -- both for the slide and a triple he lost in the lights -- with a late-inning called shot home run off --- ummmm .... uh ..... er ..... welll --- ME. said shot was the difference in the ballgame, giving the off-duty police officers their final margin of victory.
essentially, i guess, since i'm writing this recap, it's a bit me-heavy. however, it appears i cost my team 8 billion runs on offense and defense on three separate bone-headed occasions.
their were two controversial plays. they were as follows:
--- matt was in a close play at the plate and insisted he was safe; quinn, the catcher, insisted matt was out. there was some back-and-forth but apparently matt ultimately was called out. i had mixed feelings about the play. i felt like john may very well have put the tag on, but i was far from sure. also, i feel like if you show up late and displace a fresh-faced newbie, you pretty much forfeit your right to argue your cause, at least on the first close play in which you are involved. i'm not sure how ultimately the out was decided upon; from my vantage point in center field i was under the impression that the run counted and the out did not count. i only learned later the out did in fact count. to this moment, the whole thing resides in some weird, metaphysical grey area.
--- the second controversial play was a force out at second in which some dood not only left first base too early (before the crack of the bat) but also was out anyway on the flip to second and nevertheless vehemently claimed to be safe. it was a hideous reminder of why the base runner never should be permitted to umpire the play. he probably went on to score. to make this point more clear: a base runner is entitled to politely lobby his cause; however he's not entitled to insist he was safe despite clear evidence to the contrary, especially after he left first base too early, violating both the spirit and the letter of the law.
one new player, i think his name was j.d., proved to be a pretty good acquisition. he rapped a few hits, scored a few runs, made a few catches and throws, and also got his inaugural raspberry on a slide. that's a solid, all-around night. he lives right in the area ... as do most walk-ups ... and we may see him again.
there were two stand-out defensive plays. one involved james "jungle cat" morris loping in and snaring a seemingly harmless foul pop up in the obstacle-laden area along the left-field line; the second involved jon on a tough chance in deeeep left-center on a long fly ball. jon and james consistently make tough plays look easy.
there were three other home runs besides those mentioned above: d. lee had one, ambrose had one, and i had a cheap scoreboard job, which ricocheted downward from the top of the wall and bounced off the top of the scoreboard. it counted, bitches.
i leave you with rule change, which will become official immediately unless there are strenuous objections: from here onward, henceforth and forth-with, the batter's "called-shot" shall be voided should his at-bat result in a score-board shot home run . in other words, if you call your shot, then hit the scoreboard, you can call it again.
this was the first game of the 2007 season that felt like summer. the sun stayed out late, there was some passing weather, and the turnout was heavy. since nobody names the teams any more, i've gone ahead and named hans's team "the retired police officers" and d. lee's team "the off-duty police officers."
the game featured a good bit of offense and the regular amount of hideously booted ground balls. one especially poor play was mine at short stop; in the "7th inning," with 1 out and runners on first and second, I went to my right to catch a ground ball and -- amazingly perhaps -- came up with it. however, i failed to make the exchange and get the ball to third and the effort was for naught as everybody was safe. the next batter hit a two-run double and the batter after that -- deion sandals -- cranked a three-run, called-shot donger.
the five-run meltdown was the featured offensive outburst in the game, which ended 15-13.
despite the loss, the retired police officers had their moments. after --- jebus --- i got picked off trying to stretch leigh's base hit from first to third, leigh, who had advanced to second on the play, came home to score on a hard slide. i can't remember who the batter was - john quinn probably - but the play at the plate was cold-blooded and javier who was at catcher pretty much never saw it coming. there was a good deal of dust and a lot of cheers and no injuries. the hard slide picked us up and we felt like we were going to sail after that.
but the off-duty police officers had other ideas. and javier would have his revenge later -- both for the slide and a triple he lost in the lights -- with a late-inning called shot home run off --- ummmm .... uh ..... er ..... welll --- ME. said shot was the difference in the ballgame, giving the off-duty police officers their final margin of victory.
essentially, i guess, since i'm writing this recap, it's a bit me-heavy. however, it appears i cost my team 8 billion runs on offense and defense on three separate bone-headed occasions.
their were two controversial plays. they were as follows:
--- matt was in a close play at the plate and insisted he was safe; quinn, the catcher, insisted matt was out. there was some back-and-forth but apparently matt ultimately was called out. i had mixed feelings about the play. i felt like john may very well have put the tag on, but i was far from sure. also, i feel like if you show up late and displace a fresh-faced newbie, you pretty much forfeit your right to argue your cause, at least on the first close play in which you are involved. i'm not sure how ultimately the out was decided upon; from my vantage point in center field i was under the impression that the run counted and the out did not count. i only learned later the out did in fact count. to this moment, the whole thing resides in some weird, metaphysical grey area.
--- the second controversial play was a force out at second in which some dood not only left first base too early (before the crack of the bat) but also was out anyway on the flip to second and nevertheless vehemently claimed to be safe. it was a hideous reminder of why the base runner never should be permitted to umpire the play. he probably went on to score. to make this point more clear: a base runner is entitled to politely lobby his cause; however he's not entitled to insist he was safe despite clear evidence to the contrary, especially after he left first base too early, violating both the spirit and the letter of the law.
one new player, i think his name was j.d., proved to be a pretty good acquisition. he rapped a few hits, scored a few runs, made a few catches and throws, and also got his inaugural raspberry on a slide. that's a solid, all-around night. he lives right in the area ... as do most walk-ups ... and we may see him again.
there were two stand-out defensive plays. one involved james "jungle cat" morris loping in and snaring a seemingly harmless foul pop up in the obstacle-laden area along the left-field line; the second involved jon on a tough chance in deeeep left-center on a long fly ball. jon and james consistently make tough plays look easy.
there were three other home runs besides those mentioned above: d. lee had one, ambrose had one, and i had a cheap scoreboard job, which ricocheted downward from the top of the wall and bounced off the top of the scoreboard. it counted, bitches.
i leave you with rule change, which will become official immediately unless there are strenuous objections: from here onward, henceforth and forth-with, the batter's "called-shot" shall be voided should his at-bat result in a score-board shot home run . in other words, if you call your shot, then hit the scoreboard, you can call it again.
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
5.13.07: mama's boys
by pbdotc aka the Wayward O
After the Mother's Day Massacre I went out looking for some softball. But the turnout stunk. We did have a core of 10 regulars and semi-regulars, including Cey, Kathy & Lex, each of whom showed for I think for the first time this season. I was in a shitty mood because I don't have anything else to do but watch Orioles choke. Well that's not right actually: There is a lot to do in New York. I chose to watch 'em choke. Even worse.
We were still awful damn short on players. So we pulled in two doods from the bocce court, Will and Chris, who were playing catch. They weren't sure they were going to stay the whole while, but they did, and they had fun. We also pulled in a lady named Ruth. She was in dugout area with her pooch, Sadie. She ran home and got her mitt and some shoes. That gave us 13, which meant more or less we pitched & caught for our own team and sported two (2) outfielders per team. We did not close off any fields.
Ruth was nervous at first but it was clear she had played a lot of softball in the past because she immediately contributed on defense, gunning down an advancing runner at second after a bad throw to first. She also had trouble at the plate but worked out some of those issues as the game progressed. Her dog kept chewing her mitt but it would not chew the mitt when I tried to take a video of the dog chewing the mitt.
I have a feeling we'll see the new players again. I think the dog should come back too so I can film it chewing the mitt.
My team played a modified defense which featured the "opposite field middle infielder backing out into short outfield" depending if a lefty or righty was up. That caused us a minor headache at one point. Danny Lee's team appeared to be playing a full-time short fielder, or deep roving infielder. I'm not sure what you'd call it. I think each strategy has its strong points and in the end it appeared to be a wash.
There were A LOT of booted balls and it seemed like the sloppy fielding was contagious. I did fall down again, as I predicted, attempting to field a grounder way to my left at 2nd base. It was a sort-of tough chance but I had no business falling down. I think I was tipsy.
There were one or two controversial calls. The ball beat Kathy to third, but she insisted she was safe despite solid evidence to the contrary. But she has a solid rep so we let her have it.
Handsome Andrew hit a moon shot but it was not called. And Kissel (I think please correct me if I'm wrong) hit what would have been an inning-ending home run except the newly leafy trees out in deep right center knocked the ball back in play. Leigh and Cey, my outfielders at the time, protested the ruling but once I explained the ground rules to them, all was forgiven. There were no called-shot home runs (again please correct me if I'm wrong) although on Andrew's call he came within six inches of his 2nd scoreboard shot on the young season.
The other Dave hit a bases-clearing triple that salvaged the game for my side. And he gave me a cigarette after the game. That was the second (2nd) cigarette I have smoked in 2007 and the 3rd overall since I quite smoking on New Year's eve, 2004/2005.
The game ended in an 11-11 draw. It was a very nice night to be outside, far away from the Blatzmore Schnorioles and their Imbecile Manager.
After the Mother's Day Massacre I went out looking for some softball. But the turnout stunk. We did have a core of 10 regulars and semi-regulars, including Cey, Kathy & Lex, each of whom showed for I think for the first time this season. I was in a shitty mood because I don't have anything else to do but watch Orioles choke. Well that's not right actually: There is a lot to do in New York. I chose to watch 'em choke. Even worse.
We were still awful damn short on players. So we pulled in two doods from the bocce court, Will and Chris, who were playing catch. They weren't sure they were going to stay the whole while, but they did, and they had fun. We also pulled in a lady named Ruth. She was in dugout area with her pooch, Sadie. She ran home and got her mitt and some shoes. That gave us 13, which meant more or less we pitched & caught for our own team and sported two (2) outfielders per team. We did not close off any fields.
Ruth was nervous at first but it was clear she had played a lot of softball in the past because she immediately contributed on defense, gunning down an advancing runner at second after a bad throw to first. She also had trouble at the plate but worked out some of those issues as the game progressed. Her dog kept chewing her mitt but it would not chew the mitt when I tried to take a video of the dog chewing the mitt.
I have a feeling we'll see the new players again. I think the dog should come back too so I can film it chewing the mitt.
My team played a modified defense which featured the "opposite field middle infielder backing out into short outfield" depending if a lefty or righty was up. That caused us a minor headache at one point. Danny Lee's team appeared to be playing a full-time short fielder, or deep roving infielder. I'm not sure what you'd call it. I think each strategy has its strong points and in the end it appeared to be a wash.
There were A LOT of booted balls and it seemed like the sloppy fielding was contagious. I did fall down again, as I predicted, attempting to field a grounder way to my left at 2nd base. It was a sort-of tough chance but I had no business falling down. I think I was tipsy.
There were one or two controversial calls. The ball beat Kathy to third, but she insisted she was safe despite solid evidence to the contrary. But she has a solid rep so we let her have it.
Handsome Andrew hit a moon shot but it was not called. And Kissel (I think please correct me if I'm wrong) hit what would have been an inning-ending home run except the newly leafy trees out in deep right center knocked the ball back in play. Leigh and Cey, my outfielders at the time, protested the ruling but once I explained the ground rules to them, all was forgiven. There were no called-shot home runs (again please correct me if I'm wrong) although on Andrew's call he came within six inches of his 2nd scoreboard shot on the young season.
The other Dave hit a bases-clearing triple that salvaged the game for my side. And he gave me a cigarette after the game. That was the second (2nd) cigarette I have smoked in 2007 and the 3rd overall since I quite smoking on New Year's eve, 2004/2005.
The game ended in an 11-11 draw. It was a very nice night to be outside, far away from the Blatzmore Schnorioles and their Imbecile Manager.
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