Surprise, surprise, we got killed again. It was an 8:30 game, and it started raining in Maumelle around 7:30. Erica and I were home having a heated discussion, and then I realized maybe the game would be stormed out. At 8:00 it was really lightning outside (that's a verb, right?), but they called to tell me to head on out to Interstate Park. It poured.
We huddled in the dugout while it poured. We looked to the umpires in the tower while it poured. Lightning flashed while it poured. And then it seemed to the powers that be that it stabilized a little. We took the field without complaint. Yeah, right.
You should have seen me after a long first half-inning in that mess! My hair was plastered across my forehead, and I kept shaking it out like I was in some shampoo commercial. The scoreboard read about 12-0. Or maybe it was worse than that.
Anyway, I made good contact with the ball finally. Too bad my line drive was caught in left center. But I really didn't care because it seemed obvious to me that the slump is over. We got hammered for a while, but in predictable fashion evened out and put together some respectable innings. Tomorrow night is at 9:30, and that's the one that's actually the worst team. And now my cleats have a respectable layer of mud/dirt. Priceless.
I'm on call at St. Vincent today, and it has been good so far. I'm reading George Pelecanos' Drama City because I skipped it to read the newest Signed First. It is great so far; it's the crime novel I mentioned a while back. That's the best thing about call days here - lots of reading time.
The heated discussion ended well. E -- I love you.
1 comment:
Am I gonna have to come down there and show you how to win a ball game? What position are you playing? You're probably losing because you're not wearing khaki shorts and I bet you're not doing the correct cheers. Get some Nell into it and you'll bring home a win.
Katy Bartlett (the other Katy)
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