Beer League

So, I played the first game of softball with my company team last night.

Yeah! Wow!..........I suck!

One thing is for certain……that big ball freakin’ HURTS! And it isn’t SOFT either. It’s just oversized and hard to catch at high speeds. I figure it’s about the same as a bowling ball coming at you at 80 miles per hour.

Catch it? Are you fucking nuts?!

I started the night at 3^rd base. Not bad considering that when you have a bunch of people getting drunk and swinging wildly at anything crossing the plate, 3^rd really is a nap area. If you cross my little square pad in the dirt, you are probably at full speed for home. I just stand there with my glove out –as if someone has actual control of the ball….to uh, throw it to me.

Then we rotated.

Wow! The outfield sucks! It’s lonely and away from everything. I suddenly felt like the basest of a rock band. I guess that’s why outfielders taunt everybody. Yeah, their bored as shit! Until………….

Ok, so now there is a freakin’ cantaloupe size ball cruising through the air –towards ME. Did I mention that I SUCKED?!!

It was like slow motion. Everyone stopped to look at me. The trustworthy outfielder. Yup.

NO! I didn’t catch the fucking ball!! Thanks for asking!! It hit the ground five feet behind me. Great! Uncoordinated chubby wheezing ass-crack sweating BALL DROPPER!!!!

I felt better after a beer in the dugout, but I don’t think I will ever be the same. After you shamefully chase after a perfectly catchable ball- your world sort of boils down to one word:

Pussy………..ball dropper. (ok, that’s three)

FU