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September 23, 2005
Volume 6, Issue 23
Today's theme is "baseball".
ST
D: Baseball Neophyte
"You're an outfielder. Always was an outfielder. Always will be an outfielder. Quit muscling in on the infield and focus on the goddamned outfield!”
I'll show him. Boy, can I catch. Okay so it’s my legs taking me to the place where the catch has to be made but my reactions are getting better and better and didn't I hit that homer that won us the pennant? I’m confident in my abilities, why isn't the manager?
I'll show him that ol' Les Nessman magic that got me my contract. First pitch I see, I'll be running straight for the infield.
Michele: Father's Day
In the two seconds it took for the ball to leave the pitcher’s mitt, sail toward the plate and arrive in front of him, he mentally shooed away the taunting images of past strike outs and pop-ups, and shouts of “Failure!” that took on the voice of his father.
He swung the bat with the ferocity of escaped anger.
The crack of the bat and the way his legs felt as they carried him safely to first base exhilarated him.
Standing on first, he looked to where his father was cheering wildly. All he could think was “Fuck you, dad.”
Laurence - Baseball
It's a long fly ball.
I'm in the bleachers, and it takes me a second or so to realize the ball is headed straight towards me.
My hands are full, and I've got a choice: drop the beer and catch the ball or protect the beer and get hit with the ball.
I choose a third option: putting the beer down and trying for the ball.
I bend over, and I feel a thud on my back.
I drop the beer, and it spills as it rolls into the row below.
I guess there is crying in baseball, after all.