I just got back from my first week of active duty on Team Peavy of the McCarren Park kickball league. I played three games, two for Peavy and one as a fill-in for Bougie Ballers. While I went essentially hitless in all three games (I reached base a few times on fielder's choices, my excellence of execution at shortstop and third base earned me team MVP honors.
Truth be told, I really made some catches look more difficult than they should have, hence turning some ordinary outs into acrobatic plays but if that earns me some fame on the field of play, I'll take it. I did win my first war wound: a good old-fashioned knee scrape from a catch in the first game. Although it was less than impressive, particularly after cleaning it up, it shows I was willing to get dirty (which I did and then some).
Best moment of the night: for some reason, our team decided to tie off all our shirts to show off some midriff. I am not a man that needs to show some midriff but that was immaterial. For whatever reason, I was slow to tie up my shirt (well, intentionally slow) and a girl from the opposing team (Repressive Agressive) tied up my shirt for me, finishing off the knot with her teeth. It was a kodak moment, hotter than a Cinemax skin flick, and somebody's got a picture of it. Maybe I'll be able to get a copy some day, laminate it, and keep it under my bed next to my special sock. I could go on... but I won't.
I saw Hancock today as well but that is a story for another day (let's call it Monday). I finished up the night with a quick bite at Castro's with fellow Clinton Hill'r and Peavy teammate Richard. One long soak in the bath later, I'm at my keyboard, ready to finish this up, dream of toothy girls who like to tie knots, kickball glory, and the promise of many sore muscles in the morning. Monday morning. I hate Mondays.
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