There's a Bug in Right Field

I played my first softball game, as an adult, yesterday. I had to drive my little car into the middle of nowhere while fearing that my co-workers were not going to play ball with me. Their goal was far more nefarious. But the trees broke and lo, a recreation park complete with ball field. I was given my team shirt which I wore with pride and sent out into the depths of right field where I crouched menacingly. (I see them do it in the big leagues.) I frightened the other team with my glare so much that they only sent one ball in my direction which I promptly ran after, skidded after, pounced on and then threw in the style of wimpy towards second. BUT I GOT IT. My at bats were quite thrilling, if I say so myself. My first at bat produced a pop fly to the pitcher. My second was a single RBI. (Yeah!) Third at bat I looked like Bugs Bunny when he was chopping up the air on Loony Toons.

Our team left dirty, smelly and broken. We are old and fragile. There were several shinjuries. (haha).

We played a double header. The final scores were impressive!

22-4

18-2

 

We lost both