Don't Hate Me! Date Me!

So softball on Saturday. We played two games against the Fusion, a great team.

Among the things that make them a great team is the proliferation of eye candy on that team. I would absolutely plunk down my $20 for a Fusion Calendar. My clear favorite would be their first baseman, this big beautiful man named Patrick. Smokin' hot man he is.

I played catcher for the last few innings of the first game and the entirety of the second game. And hitting, I did okay, too, getting on base every time I was up at bat, including two ribbies. (Tragically, a hit that was lame even for me resulted in my buddy Norsky Bear getting tagged out.

But the most memorable play of the day came when Patrick was at bat and I was catching. The first pitch, he swung, but just clipped the ball. It floated up in a gentle arc and dropped down right into my glove. The batter--that would be Patrick--was out.

Oh man.

Catching a man's flukey fly ball--otherwise, he's a pretty good batter--is probably not the way to his heart, right? In fact, no doubt Patrick now thinks of me as "that miserable ass-hat from the Ball Breakers." I don't know that we play the Fusion again this season, but if we're on the same field maybe I should bring him flowers or Gatorade or something.

At any rate, it was a perfect day for softball. My favorite weather report: hazy, hot and humid. But there was a nice breeze blowing, so with drinking plenty of water, it didn't get too oppressive.

After the games (which the Ball Breakers won, continuing our streak), we headed back to Ty's on Christopher Street to celebrate. Alas, I couldn't stay too long. I was invited to go to a Gay Bowling Extravaganza at a bowling alley in Maple Shade, New Jersey. So I grabbed an iced quad venti two pump vanilla light ice latté from Starbucks at 10th and Hudson and hit the road. But as I was headed towards the Holland Tunnel, I saw there was a voicemail message waiting for me. And it was one of the organizers, Datt of Datt and Male fame. Apparently, a bad cold he was fighting turned into bronchitis, so he was cancelling. Although it would have been a perfect day to sit on the grass piers and enjoy a cigar. But since I was already on my way I decided to call it a day and just get back to the Ol' Homestead.