The predators in purple came out with one goal last week: out-fun the shit out of people. Stupid hats were everywhere, purple punch was flowing like an endless fount of performance-enhancing nectar, spirits were bolstered by a party playlist which was alleged to be so bumpin to have caused time to slow to 1/10th its normal speed while listening to it at work earlier in the day, and our good friends Adam and Pitches be Trippin were on the menu. RPS is for chumps, so I challenged Adam to a leg wrestling match instead. While I feel a little bad because he seems to be at the acute disadvantage of not knowing what the fuck is going on, this set the tone for the entire night:
A few victory roars later we took the field as the home team and promptly gave up a run to some stellar baserunning by turkey hat there, but remained unfazed. Returning vet Johnny Mitro anchored the defense from behind the place while newcomers Colin and Rob took to kickball like plesiosaurs to the Jurassic seas, and we held our own for 3.5 innings before blowing it open in the 4th with a big run to take over with a strong 4-1 lead that we never gave back. Afterwards, the general mood could best be described with the following gif:
It was, in the immortal words of Ruby Rod, SUPER GREEN. Also purple.
Those of you who shared in the joy of the Purple Punch, I hope you felt better in the morning than I did, and know you are always welcome to partake! Wily veteran Scott Hudnall chose to ref our game last week in order to scout us for this week, but all that did was assure him that we’re a lot better than him. Read between the lines in that GMOT entry. He’s scared. Shaking in his cleats. Prepare to face the cuddly, friendly ferocity of PurpleSaurus Rex, resident apex predator.