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Tuesday, June 14, 2011
What started out as pregame introductions between a group of enthused locals and the free agents that littered the roster turned into a coordinated effort of ball-cupping and striking that guided the Jiminy Kickits (Jim, for short) into undefeatedness, clinching a 3-3 tie with the oft-mustachioed opponent. Fighting off vagrant squatters, and a tight strike zone, the marauders from the west side and parts unknown stared defeat in the face before shaking hands and agreeing to terms of a draw.
Solid defense, and a 3-run, 2-out rally, were the keys to the middle of the road. Leaving the fields in neither the guise of defeat or the glory of victory left the spirits of all involved mildly elevated, yet not too elevated that a few couldn't head to Third Base to feign enthusiasm for the NBA Finals.
This team, this ragtag amalgamation of left-handed nose tackles, former high school bench warmers, pink-haired cheerleaders, eagle scouts, people who previously tore their ACL playing kickball, and even that greatest of athletic knowledge and superiorness: the professional sportswriter, combined to form an effort that has been seen many times before. All in all, it was okay, I guess.