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penfieldThe first game for the Green Team was pretty much the opposite of my first game for the Blue Team. We were absolutely pulverized by the opposition; it was like the New York Yankees taking on the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. I pitched all 7 innings and was tagged for 35 runs, without being struck by a single batted ball. I did suffer slight whiplash, however, from watching bomb after bomb soar over my outfielders' heads.
Perhaps I should point out -- as an explanation, not an excuse -- that we were playing shorthanded with 8 fielders, and were forced to take an automatic out every time through the lineup because we didn't have a minimum of three females. I submit this to ladies across the D.C. Metropolitan area: You are never, ever in more social demand than at 6:30 weekdays on the national mall. Forget the clubs and the nightlife; if you can stand upright and run in a straight line, you will have charming, athletic guys falling over themselves trying to learn your name and give you free beer, and you don't even have to wear those unflattering tube tops. (Tight little shorts are recommended, though.)
May 4, 2006
Green Team
LOSS, 35-11
BATTING: 4 AB, 3 hits (2 doubles, one HR), 3 runs, 4 RBI
PITCHING: 7 innings, innumerable hits, no walks, 35 runs
FIELDING (P/LF): 4 chances, no errors
Season-to-date:
BATTING: 8 AB, .625 AVG, 1.250 SLG, 1 HR, 5 runs, 5 RBI
PITCHING: 9 innings, 27.20 ERA (per 7 innings), 35.00 ERA (per 9)
FIELDING: 12 innings, 1.000 FPCT
One thing I've noticed at these games that really bothers me, especially as a pitcher, is how people on the bench instinctively say "good eye, good eye," whenever the batter takes a pitch. Hey, you chattering nitwits: there are no called balls and strikes. You usually have no idea if the batter just took a pitch two feet outside or a pitch right down the middle. I applaud the encouragement of teammates; exhortations to "be patient" and "wait for your pitch" are fine. But "good eye" is meaningless. If you must compliment them, at least make it interesting, like "beautiful eyes" or "nice tits."
Perhaps I should point out -- as an explanation, not an excuse -- that we were playing shorthanded with 8 fielders, and were forced to take an automatic out every time through the lineup because we didn't have a minimum of three females. I submit this to ladies across the D.C. Metropolitan area: You are never, ever in more social demand than at 6:30 weekdays on the national mall. Forget the clubs and the nightlife; if you can stand upright and run in a straight line, you will have charming, athletic guys falling over themselves trying to learn your name and give you free beer, and you don't even have to wear those unflattering tube tops. (Tight little shorts are recommended, though.)
May 4, 2006
Green Team
LOSS, 35-11
BATTING: 4 AB, 3 hits (2 doubles, one HR), 3 runs, 4 RBI
PITCHING: 7 innings, innumerable hits, no walks, 35 runs
FIELDING (P/LF): 4 chances, no errors
Season-to-date:
BATTING: 8 AB, .625 AVG, 1.250 SLG, 1 HR, 5 runs, 5 RBI
PITCHING: 9 innings, 27.20 ERA (per 7 innings), 35.00 ERA (per 9)
FIELDING: 12 innings, 1.000 FPCT
One thing I've noticed at these games that really bothers me, especially as a pitcher, is how people on the bench instinctively say "good eye, good eye," whenever the batter takes a pitch. Hey, you chattering nitwits: there are no called balls and strikes. You usually have no idea if the batter just took a pitch two feet outside or a pitch right down the middle. I applaud the encouragement of teammates; exhortations to "be patient" and "wait for your pitch" are fine. But "good eye" is meaningless. If you must compliment them, at least make it interesting, like "beautiful eyes" or "nice tits."
