I have been playing in our company softball league for the past few weeks. The honest truth is that I am not a good softball player. In fact, other than a few games during P.E. in high school, I don’t know that I’ve ever actually played softball before. Therefore, the request that I participate in the league was obviously not due to my prowess on the field, but instead due to the simple fact that I am a GIRL. Much to the chagrin of several of my overly-competitive teammates, every team must have 3 female players on the field at all times. With the exception of a select few, most of the women who play are not exactly female versions of Derek Jeter. We're basically only in the game for "show."
Win. OR ELSE!
Up until last night, all the games so far this season were actually, as had been promised to me, “just for fun,” so when I showed up last night ready to play a friendly game of softball, I certainly did not expect the nonsense that occurred. Upon arriving at the field, tensions were already high. It seems that the manager of our team got into an email altercation with the manager of the opposing team. I have yet to figure out what this argument was about, but he was pissed off, and he definitely wanted to WIN this game. His dislike of the other manager so strongly fueled his competitive nature that it resulted in giving us a “pep” talk that basically involved him telling us that we had to win. OR ELSE!
Voila! Instant Umpire...
The game got off to a late start due to the fact that the umpires who had been assigned to our game failed to show up. Instead of rescheduling the game, the other team got the bright idea to hire the beer/water guy that goes around the park selling frosty beverages to the spectators at the 4 surrounding fields. He stowed his cart under the bleachers, charged us 30 dollars, donned a mask, and...Voila! Instant Umpire. (Personally, I think that this may have been some sort of conspiracy on the part of the other team. I honestly think that they may have rigged the game, and told the real ump’s not to show up just so they could hire this new guy. I mean, I know I’m not a softball aficionado, but I’m pretty sure that if the ball lands ON the plate…it is NOT a strike.)
Play Ball!!
After another inspiring pep talk ("Don't screw this up! Go Team!"), the game began. We did not do well. The majority of the calls were in favor of the other team, and if they weren't for them, they were most certainly against us. Though my play was certainly less than fabulous, I was fortunate enough not to be the cause of any major problems. They put me in the position of “shortfield,” which I’m pretty sure is not actually a real position. I think they invented it as a way to put the less than stellar players on the field without having them actually participate in the game. I went the entire game without seeing any action at all. I don’t think that I even touched the ball to be honest with you. It is because of this that I don’t blame myself for our horrible loss. As the game went on, the competition became more and more heated. There was a lot of trash talkin' and obscenities being thrown around. Someone threw dirt on the benches and got thrown out of the game. I got in an argument with one of my teammates because I overheard him mumbling about how he wished the girls didn’t have to play. (I was predisposed to dislike this particular teammate, as he happened to be they guy who, in a completely unrelated incident, stole one of my presentations, and took credit for it. Who DOES that anyway??) The highlight of the game, for me anyway, was when I was walked and got to take first base. (The bases were loaded, so I actually got an RBI…ha! More than that plagiarizing bastard can say for himself. He struck out every time he was at bat.) I was quite excited that I had actually made a contribution to the game, and prepared myself for the run to second base. The batter immediately got a hit and I took off running. As I approached second base, I realized that I was in serious danger of being thrown out, as one of the female members of the opposing team was standing on the bag, poised and ready to catch the ball. (I don’t know where they got this girl. She looked like a professional. A very large, very intimidating professional.) I don’t really know exactly what happened at this point… it all happened so fast. I do know that I was somehow tripped by the second basewoman, which caused me to fly up into the air and land on my bad knee. As you may have assumed, I was called out. As I limped toward the bench, the manager of our team offered the following encouragement: “It’s okay Jen. Did you see those legs on her? You couldn’t have taken her down even if you'd had a chainsaw.”
The whole experience was too stressful. I think I'm going to retire from the game.
