It was a beautiful day for baseball - a shade under 40 degrees and right next to the water. This was going to be a great night for someone who could sweat while watching an indoor ice hockey game.
The normal bro-hugs ensued, welcoming the troop back for the first game under the new regime. We ditched loving Mario, leaving him off to look for wooden bats in garages. A few years back the league tried a month of wood bat only, and he was fabled as saying in his guido-but-actually-Argentinian-voice,
"Ok, guuuuys, go into yower paarents and grandparents gay-rawges, and look fower some wooden bats. You knowa, nothing too fancy.."
Now Mario is gone, its all wood bat, and me, Matt, and Jim have the reigns. I also have a tight jersey as usual.
The gortex-like jersey clung to me like a wet-suit. However, today I didn't look like Hobee from Baywatch. I looked more "fat guy drowning #3" wearing a baseball uniform being saved by Newmie.
The game started and I pitched three innings, responsible for two runs but having not given up any hits. For me, I am more comfortable pitching off Major league mounds, with Dave Berni fixing any holes after every inning.
Unfortunately this was not the case, and I contemplated repairing the mound myself using a wheelbarrow full of the goose crap that littered the field.
The opposing pitcher, who resembled Orville Redenbacher, threw a 60 mph curve-ball that seemed to baffle our team. Eventually we figured it out. Either way, the game was good, and we came back to win.
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