The Bad News Bears

I spend alot of time at work and fortunately, I really like the people I work with. I labor finding new ways to make our work days fun and to spark socialization. It takes so little to have, say, a Halloween party or a summer happy hour. It reminds your colleagues that outside of the regular grind, we like one another and we like to spend time together.

Over a year ago, I tried to encourage a corporate bowling or softball team. The response was somewhat enthusiastic, but gathering enough troops to be competitive was a challenge. This year, I was determined not to be deterred. I started lobbying for a corporate softball team early--in winter--enlisting team members and our captain, Carlos. By spring, the team was selected. Team jersey designs were being evaluated. We registered our team with Faifield County. We were ready to play ball.

I hadn't planned to play myself. I am horrifically out of shape and haven't played softball since the 1980s. I planned to cheer the team on and offer libation support. But wouldn't you know it, the first game was last night and many of our key players had decided to leave for a long weekend. We needed ten players and we were four short.

Carlos came to me. "You're going to have to play." he said. Sweet Jesus--this will be bad. I changed into my softball clothes and headed to the field.

We started practice and as suspected, my throwing arm was lacking. My batting, rather poor. I was in fear of playing. Our competition, practicing in the opposing field, seemed to be made up a group of serious competitors. I feared the worst.

We did have a few good players. Carlos and Chris and Vivian had played softball for many years and they could catch and hit. The Man in Plaid (also roped in with the player shortage) surprised me with his incredible batting ability--he sent many a ball out into the far nether lands. He may as well have been our ringer.

Minutes before the game began, a steady rain began to fall. We all clustered under a lone tree for protection, but in short order, we were soaked to the skin. The umpire called for a ten minute delay. As luck (bad) would have it, the rain eased and the game began in earnest.

I was picked to be the catcher. How this happened, I have no clue. I squatted down behind home base, holding my glove aloft as I had seen Mike Piazza do. The Man in Plaid was pitching. We warmed up with a few throws and the ump called for the first pitcher.

I'll spare you the details, but within five innings, we were slaughtered. The final score--18 to 2. I got up to bat twice but grounded out both times. The Man in Plaid, showing a surprising competitive streak, started coaching the players. On my last turn up to bat he said, "Take the first strike, then hit the second ball." I did just that, but I wish I could have turned it into a hit.

The game called, we retreated to the bench and cracked open a few Coronas. We swapped tales, hung out and played with a colleague's beagle, Spike. He's our new mascot.In the end, defeat was painful but we are not deterred. The next game is on Monday. All in all, it was an unremarkable debut. And a hell of a lot of fun.