Season Opens With Unrealistic Optimism

It started to rain in my little corner of the metro at five. Sheets of rain just rolling across my poor life—the rotting tree splayed all over my lawn, the crying children bouncing off the walls, the seventy five thousand unanswered emails from pissed off coworkers and clients. All I could think about was: this was just like the first day.

And as the rain came down I just imagined the first time this I tried this whole “softball team” thing. I remember being slightly embarrassed about organizing the event and wondering how a whole season would work. I recall young Mr. Anderson asking me to lead the practice and not really knowing what he meant by that. It was cold and rainy and after about an hour of standing around I really wasn't sure if the softball thing was going to work.

Fair enough. As the drug addicts say: “it's never as good as the first time.” Tonight we're going to test that theory, I thought. Tonight we're going to get on the field in the rain and stand around awkwardly and wonder if this whole thing is going to work this year.

But the sun was shining on Marshall Terrace. The field was a little sloppy, but the rain stopped and it warmed lightly and the fellas were in good spirits. No one asked me to lead anything, since by now I have firmly established my largely ceremonial role as team administrator. (If you came here looking for a coach, or heaven forbid, a leader, you've made a terrible mistake.)




There was green grass and gum. There was some balls to hit, some balls to catch, some balls to dig out of the brush by the river. Gary snagged a few beauts in Right, Tommy B got into a terrific groove with the new bat, Mike showed up late in street clothes, an Malibar snapped a nerve ending and almost fell over from the blinding pain. A few people smoked cigarettes. It was really nice. The sloppy mess of a life I've been living melted away for an hour.

I know the season begins with a rush of sentimentality and ends with a cymbal crash of disappointment and resentment. Still, it was hard not to bask in the beginning, the fact that we made it around the sun one more time and find ourselves with nothing to distract us from an evening of light softball type activity followed by a beer and perhaps something to eat.

Capetastic! The Cape, well cared for during the offseason by Dave-O, was awarded to Tommy B for his outstanding performance at the plate. A close runner up was Mike Black who chose not to bat in order to secure a Dago sooner than later. Congratulations Mike and Tom!