we lost on the last out when the big fat thirdbaseman sent a ball so high and deep that even the eucalyptus behind the fence couldn’t stop it.
the fat guy always wins the softball game, i consoled my team.
ashley had driven up from newport to see me play and i didn’t get a hit but she didn’t care. i dove for a ball, i scored after getting on from a fielder’s choice, and i almost got kicked out of the game after a controversial 6-3 triple play where the batter was safe at first.
the tie at first does not go to the triple play, i whispered to the ump as i walked by him to go into the dugout.
what’s that? he snapped.
even on a crisp misty night playing softball on a field infested with moles, a triple play must be earned, blue.
it was bases loaded, hard shot to the shortstop who tagged the runner on second, stepped on second base and threw it to first. very close play at first. since i was coaching first i had a pretty good view. with the excitement, the ump called him out. triple play.
it’s hard to yell at a guy who is making $10 a game and is probably a social worker in the daytime. but for some of us it’s not that hard. and i didn’t yell.
the week before a guy in our league got thrown out of the game and then kicked out of the league after getting in the face of an ump, but for the most part our team is extremely civil. which might be why our record is 2-4. some argue it’s our spotty defense.
ashley took notes because when she’s bored she likes to critique people. she called a few of the people very rude, and funny names, describing them in unattractive ways. she didn’t like any of the women on the field, especially the opposing catcher who said that she liked my haircut.
i didn’t even know that girl even knew me.
what was she doing flirting with you during the game? ashley asked.
its all strategy in xbi softball, i told her. she was trying to get into my head, i explained.
ashley sneered. i thought it was cute. she was freezing on the metal grandstands and it was nice to look over and see that someone was rooting for me. especially when that person had a super short miniskirt, heels, and long hair tied up in a cute ponytail.
you, she said, were the cutest and skinniest guy on the field.
i told her it was my pinstriped baseball pants.
she said, no. you looked 21. no one would believe that you’re as old as you are.
the girl does know how to make a loser feel better. so afterwards, just like if it was a little league game, we went to mcdonalds and got a mcflurry.
and then went home and banged like newlyweds.