Ok before I get into some serious subject matters there is a few lighthearted things first. Ok George thinks he proved me wrong with time travel, however, he has a bit of a problem. Everything he posted were THEORIES. It is called superstring Theory not superstring fact. however, the thought of having parrallel universes for every time we travel back in time is fairly interesting it would answer the major flaw in time travel, why are there no future tourists? Because they never come back to our universe.  But if there is only one universe the one thing everyone says about time travel is oh i want to go back to see leonardo divinci or I want to save Lincoln from being shot, but he was shot and leo has no record of being visited by a future tourist and therefore no time travel. Your “theories” and not facts do not sway me good sir.

 

Now, the seriousness of the week. I am going to write off tuesday night because whatever we lost we always lose. The night that we need to look in on ourselves and realize we ARE adults was thursday night. Does anybody remember in the eighth grade when your home room teacher wasn’t in  because she had a hangover and probably couldnt find her underwear at her boyfriend’s apartment so she called in sick? So the principal struggled to find a substitute teacher and for like 20 minutes there was no teacher? It turned into the lord of the flies instantly. The cool kids started immediately pulled their desks into a circle and started making fun of the fat kid in the corner who was eating a hostess twinkie. The fat could hear them but kept telling himself the twinkie didn’t laugh at him.  Then the girls who liked the cool boys started becoming louder and louder laughing and pointing at the fat kid calling him names like “porkrind” and “don’t make him angry he’ll sit on you” all the while laughing with a shrieking cry. Finally that bores the cool kids so one pulls up his straw which all cool kids have at all times and delivers a spit ball directly into the glasses of the fat kid.  He wipes it off at first and then four spitballs coming flying at him striking his delicate pimply face.  He doesn’t cry and acts like the cool kids don’t exist. This angers the cool kids and finally two of the boys stand up trying to impress the girls and walk over to the fat kid’s desk and poke him in the face stating, “stop hitting yourself stop hitting yourself.” Finally they break the fat kid and a tear forms in the corner of his eye. This fuels the cool kids and they begin to slap him and call him more names. Until the fat kid gets hulk smash and grabs the first cool kid by the hair smashes his head into the desk breaking his nose. The other two kids stand paralyzed while he punches one in the nose and stabs the other in the eye with a pencil. Except in our team’s case the fat kid gets hulk smash and he does not beat up the cool kids but instead gets his own butt kicked repeatedly. All this happened because there was no teacher in class. Thea teacher in our case is Tim Rollins and Kevin Kelshaw. Our team was the class with no teacher.

What could have happened you ask? Well, it started with Keith not showing up.  Do I think tonight would have happened if Keith had shown up? I don’t know but he’s the glue that bonds the composite bat together. Do I blame all of tonight on Keith? a little bit but there were other contributing causes we need to address.  However, people started out angry Keith wasn’t there. I assume they felt he let them down or something like that.  Anyhoo, after that there was some disagreement on whether to use a short outfielder to stop the dink hits.  One side said “let’s try it! What have we got to lose?” very enthusiastically. The other half disagreed, “no, no I don’t want to cover that much ground, do I play the line or play the gap?” I don’t know but play like it’s baseball. So, I think you figure out where this went, yes that’s right they hit everything off the fence and over the fence and through the gaps. So it didn’t matter where the fourth outfielder was playing because when the other team was hitting it 300 feet a guy playing at 150 feet doesn’t really matter. It was the argument over the fact “we might lose if we try something new” that was so disheartening. Do we really think we can win anymore? I think we would still have the same results if we all played catcher and just had George out there to shag the balls the other team hits.  Why are we so worried about losing? We lose every week, so why are so afraid of trying something new? I think we should all play a position on tuesday we have never played before.  I mean why not, maybe it will fun and exciting for me to play second base and Kevin playing third base or Richard playing first base and kevin moon playing shortstop. I’m just saying.

I digress, back to where our team degraded into feces throwing monkeys. Right, so we were losing: AGAIN. I don’t know why this loss was going to be so bad compared to other 15 losses we’ve had this season. Has only been 15? It feels like 18 losses.  But, tonight was the breaking point and after being humiliated by an opposing team which did not help by being the cool kids and laughing at us during the game. “That bat is hot!” after hitting a line drive off the fence was one insult.  I wish I had an illegal bat too.  So, we were losing and George and BFF Richard were fighting, but no one really paid attention because noone really cares about either of the two, but it did make the team look bad. Those two made up when George yelled out “Hey, Richard I’m Sorry.” While he was out in left center field. “Hey Richard did you hear me? I said I WAS SORRY!!!” he called out again, while Richard’s face grew red and he tried to ignore him. 

Then we came to bat and I don’t know if Justin just got diagnosed with Diabetes or something tragic but after he grounded out to the pitcher suddenly grabbed his bat and with a growing nerd rage look in his eyes he flung the bat ferociously at the dugout. The bat smashed at the handle and splinters flew in all directions. In the major leagues and when your wife won’t do the dishes this type of behavior is acceptable, but when the projectile is within 3 inches of your own teammate who was standing on deck trying to get a quick nap before he went back to the bench because well let’s face it being the DH is tough work.  However, when the bat nearly hits your star DH it gets you ejected.  The real let down of the night was curtis didn’t quite know what to do. It was the perfect opportunity for a rousing “YERRR OUT OF HERE” while throwing his hand towards the parking lot. but curtis just shrugged his shoulders and said “he’s out of here guys do something with him.”  Justin not to be outdone barged into the dugout and promptly threw his bat in the trash. It bounced out the trash and nearly hit two other teammates.  So, yeah, Justin got ejected. I have never had a problem with Justin and this took me by surprise so with that being said, I wish him the best in his next venture.

Now, the point of this graphic depiction of a season changing night. First thing guys, our team sucks, we lose, we always lose and until we become fundamentally better, we will continue to lose. Second, because no one is getting a minor league contract I can assume none of us is going to become suddenly great next tuesday thanks to the Ken Griffey JR, hitting VHS for $19.95 cash or money order. Because of this, we need to start having fun when we play. Drop the serious attitude that we can somehow stay in the game and we need to joke with eachother like make cat calls when we are hitting and ask Mickey how his wife and my kids are doing. Fun harmless things. We do not however need to become angry when Richard misses a grounder or complain openly that Justus needs to learn how to be a man when he grounds out to second base for the third straight time.  These things are mean and it is how teams destroy eacher. Happy attitude with no negativity and we can at least keep our decent players from leaving for other teams.  If we don’t we’ll probably forfeit our last game because 58% of our team quit. Well That’s my after school special moment.