Third Loss? No Sweat

I’m beginning – no, I take that back, I am having a love-hate relationship with softball. Over the past weekend, I’ve devoted about six hours to it this past weekend, and that’s thankfully without the Thursday practice we’ve normally had. To me, it seemed about three hours to much.

Here’s one of those things about me, I like to just go and do something. Preparation and practice leave me bored. This was a big deal in band, as I was there for two things, the thrill of the performance, and the social outlet that it was after all of the music and drill learning. If I could have had that stuff just downloaded into my head, and have the extra hours given back to me, I would be so much happier.

The one place where this doesn’t apply is trip planning. I love researching for a trip, and trying to line up all the things to see and do on a trip, in fact, doing that makes me less unhappy about wandering aimlessly thinking about all the things I could be missing.

Still, with practice and the games, it feels like it’s just too much – which of course makes me re-think the desire to join the Turtle Creek Chorale, yet another time-consuming process with even fewer performances than the softball games. It’s also an all year round commitment, as softball is only a few months in the spring. I know I also enjoyed marching season much more than concert season in band.

Of course, I have learned some things at the practices – both good and bad. I learned that I can hit a softball, and that I can play some of the positions on the field, but I’ve also learned that I’m not fast enough for the outfield, and I have a hard time knowing where to have my glove for any given play. I know this is something that Chris has learned with practice, but it’s going to be a little longer with me.

I easily get frustrated when I can’t do things off the bat – so to speak. The odd thing is with the bat, I’m not too bad. In my two plate appearances yesterday, I made contact both times, actually slapping the ball over 2nd base the second, giving me enough time to actually run to first base as the ball rolled to center field. I got a rousing cheer from the rest of the team for my first bonafide hit.

Still, when I can’t catch the ball, that makes me loose the excitement for the game – especially when I’m having to huff and puff to go get the ball. That, plus the temper tantrum I threw last week with the whole catching thing probably led the coach to write me in as a substitute for one game, and just a designated hitter for our second. There is a point where I do actually want to get out and play the game, not just sit around in the dugout, keeping score, but I come up to butting heads quite often with the fact that in this league, there are many people who want to lead, and they are often the most competitive. I am not one of those people.

I guess I’m expecting more beer league softball instead of something where the coaches actually scout other teams, and players actually slide into a base. Although I like a good play, and I’m sad when we don’t make them, at the end of a game, I really couldn’t care less what the score is. I want to hit, maybe run around a bit, and just have a reason to have actually put on some sunscreen for the day.

Yesterday I was in the dugout keeping score, and our coach was yelling at me to yell out what the last opposing batter did to try to give us the edge. There was all sorts of shifting and notifying and more yelling. There was yelling from the dugout, from the base coaches, and more out on the field. I wonder, with all of this yelling, does anyone get the message? Personally, I can do without it all, and truly, if you’re out in the field, just be ready when the ball is hit, because even the most consistent hitter will strike the opposite field. Trust me, only a handful of guys are actually consistent hitters. That’s why it’s D League.

We’ve already decided that we aren’t going to the Gay Softball World Series, so lets have a good time. So we’ve lost three times, big deal – especially since two of those teams – ones that are gunning for the trip to Ft. Lauderdale, look like their just a little too good, and too buff to be in our league. Someone get them a keg.

Of course, when I did reach first base – and held there, our coach comes up and asks me if I wanted to have another player run for me. Hell no, I ran to this base, and I’ll run to any other I can manage to get to. Just because my knees hurt and I’m slow doesn’t mean I’m not going to play the game. Of course there was no need as the next batter struck out.

So of course, the social aspect is the upside. Our yelling coach is actually a sweet man once you get him away from the desire to win. There’ lots of other good people on the team, and it’s nice to get to know some new people here in Dallas. Things like the barbeque we had after Saturday’s practice, that’s good stuff.

Still, I wish I had brought a swimsuit for the hot tub. It was a little full for me, with all the guys, but I could have used a good soak, because I get to do more in practice than in a game. Still, I was a little shy, not just to have to drop to my boxer shorts, but also to get in the hot tub with all the good looking boys.

Plus, after getting out, having to go free-balling in my jeans shorts- that, like getting all riled up about losing a game, that’s a no go for me.