I have learned one thing about myself:

I either need to learn to lie faster or say no.

last night i was happily sitting in front of my computer enjoying the soothing techno thumps of kylie minogue and downloading gay porn, when suddenly one of my roomates knocks on my door.

i open the door to find he is standing there with his guitar strapped on. for a second i think "this is it... his band has finally realized they need someone to come do lead vocals on prince songs." but their blues rock rehearsal at the other end of the house says otherwise, and my roomie hands me the phone, and walks down the hall, playing the guitar as he walks.

i put the phone to my ear, and close the door.

"hello?" i say cautiously.

"dude, i need you to play right field. i will be there in five minutes."

i stammer, trying to impovise a good lie:

'i can't-the doctor has ordered me to not leave the bed untill i can walk again'

'i can't-i am deathly allergic to boring sports'

'i can't-last time i played a group sport, i slaughtered both teams, and am still on house arrest'

"i... can't... play sports... i don't remember how" is the best i manage to get out.

"dude, i need you." my friend says. "i will be there in five minutes" he says and hangs up before i can think of a better excuse.

if this were a movie, at this point i would have a camera above my head pointed down at me that i would shatner out and yell "STRAIGHT MEN!!!" up at it intead of "KHAN!"

instead, i put on some shorts and a t-shirt. while i wait i spray on some cucumber-mellon body mist, and put on some deoderant. just because i am going to be playing with str8 men doesnt mean i have to reek like one.

suddenly he is standing in my doorway, his entrance having been hidden by the roadhouse like music pouring forth from the rehearsal at the other end of the house.

he has that manic sports guy look in his eye.

"ready?" he yells over the music.

"i am gonna die" i yell at him, somewhat to make him laugh somewhat because i know i am gonna end up in the hospital with a smashed up face, the victim of some frusterated breeder who burns off the aggression of not being selected to be a profesional player by hitting a line drive to my face.

we get out to his car in the driveway, where his girlfriend and another str8 guy friend are waiting. i get in the backseat, and his girlfriend smiles at me.

"you smell nice" she says. the two str8 guys in the front grunt their agreeance. suddenly i wish i had not put on the body spray, as now i fear my scent will set off some drunk homophobe armed with a steel bat.

"you need a beer" girlfriend tells me, having probably read my mind.

i drink two of them by the time we get to the fields.

one of the guys hands me a mitt, and we start warming up. i am over-butching my throw, for fear that if i don't someone will start up a chant of "THROWS LIKE A GIRL! THROWS LIKE A GIRL!" during the game.

apparently i have a pretty good arm, as i keep overthrowing and causing my warm up partner to have to run to retrieve the ball. after a few times of this, i start deliberatly overthrowing to see how far i can throw it, and to show up my heterosexual teammates. i take great delight in the fact that my warm up partner can not throw it back to me without grounding it, while i can sail it over his head and make him run further back down the warm up area.

my warm up partner decides he has had enough jogging for one night, and i move on to warm up swings. i am proud of myself for at least knowing which end of the bat to hold. since i have not picked up a bat since i am 10, i watch the other guys, trying to see how they swing it so i can copy that.

soon i am swinging at an invisable ball like it had killed my father and i have come for vengence. the guys are amazed at the power of my swing, and think they have found some secret softball weapon.

i start praying that a sudden flood or locust invasion or some other biblical bizarrenness will happen, and cancel the match, so i don't make a complete ass out of myself.

i have had enough of warm ups, and start watching the teams ending their game on our field. i am pleased to see i am not the only cocksucker out here, as there is a guy on the tem on the field who is setting my gaydar off from first base.

i watch him, waiting for him to look this way so i can flash him the secret gay hand guesture that gets me on the underground gay railroad away from this stupid testosterone fest called softball.

he never looks my way. suddenly their game is over, and ours is beginning. i am doomed.

i stand out in right field praying repeatedly that the ball never comes my way. suddenly i flash back to little league that i was forced to be a part of as a kid, and recall praying the same "no ball" mantra repeatedly while standing in right field. only this time, there are no lame uniforms with those goofy ass sock things.

while i am musing on what the hell those weird sock things were , some asshole at bat hits the ball out to me and i scramble. it hits the ground long before i even get near it, and i scoop it up and throw to second. the runner is safe, but i still am embarrased.

i start trying to remember everything i can about "a league of their own" the only sports movie i can stand, and try to recall which actress played right field in that. i think it is rosie, but i am not sure. i try to think of specific things that happened in that movie, which i have seen probably 20 times, and know most of it by heart, so that i can learn more of this stupid sport.

all i can think of is funny quotes from the movie. damn you penny marshall!

in our first inning, they get six runs off us. i wonder if anyone would notice if i excused myself to go to the restroom and just walked home.

our team SUCKS... hardcore. eventually, we get up to bat, and i start sweating scared of it being my turn to bat.

we get two runs in and are at 3 outs before i have to bat. "there is still time for a flood" i remind god as i walk out to center field.

a triple play by our shortstop later, i am up to bat.

i am so freaking nervous i could spit. i look at the catcher, feeling like i should make small talk to cover the akward silence while my teammates shout little tidbits of encouragement from our dugout.

i swing.

and miss.

i swing.

and miss.

i swing.

and connect.

i drop the bat carefully in a way no one will trip on it, and start running. the damn second baseman catches it off the ground, and about 1 second before i touch first base, he has thrown it to the first baseman, and i am out. i grab my mitt and sulk off to right field.

i start to feel a bit more invested in the game largely because i am becoming bored senseless in my area. i realize our pitcher, who is the friend who brought me, is terrible. i could lob the ball in with less walks then he can.i start planning a fifth inning takeover.

we manage to hold them at bay for the most part untill the sixth inning. suddenly we are getting crappy again, and they get more 5 runs off of us.

i step up to the plate again, and try to look butch and like i know what the hell i am doing.

i swing.

i connect.

foul ball.

i swing.

i connect.

it sails over the head of the second baseman and is the infeild. i sprint to first and stay. our first base coach stands near me to advise me.

"now when the ball is hit, you want to run to second base, which is that one there" he says and points it out.

i shoot him a look.

"well, i am not retarded. i do recall the basic concepts of the game" i laugh. the first baseman joins in the laugh by pointing me to third, and telling me that is the next place i run. i laugh.

i make it to second. i am starting to get happy about this. i laugh as i think of how funny it would be to smoke a cig arette now while i am waiting to go to third. the second baseman looks at me like i am nuts.

then before i can make it third i am forced out by the third baseman.

back to the outfield. i watch our pitcher fuck it up some more.

before you know it it is the end of the 7th inning, and the game is over because of time. in the end they kicked our ass 11-2.

we do the double line thing where the two teams walk by each other with your hand somewhat outstrectched saying "good game good game good game good game good game" a million times while walking at a slow pace and letting your hand momentarily smack lightly against theirs.

we drink beer in the parking lot and the guys tell me i did well, and ask me if i will come back next week.

i quickly try to think of a good lie to get me out of it.

"i can't-i am in a football league on thursdays, and i am the star player" i say.









"THERE'S NO CRYING IN SOFTBALL!" edit
[This message was edited Fri Oct 31 9:26:16 PST 2003 by cborgman]

funny read...

so in the end, did u get the guy?

sosgemini said:

thank u... which one? the gaydar vibing first baseman from the game beofre us? no... but a bunch of them did stick around and cheer for us during our game

nobody gonna respond?

I think this is fucking hilarous!

summerdawn said:

thank you

you changed your avatar

cborgman said:

yeah, somebody else had the same exact one. i really liked that one though

summerdawn said:

this one is great too

thanks chris!

summerdawn said:

no, thank you

cborgman said:

At least to didn't stop to dust it off before you ran for first.

An, incidentally, some str8 guys, namely me, hate and have always hated baseball. Well, actually, sports in general.

LittlePill said:

i am so buying you are martini... the official drink of us sports haters

cborgman said:

you need some 'hater-ade'.

summerdawn said:

that is hilarious

cborgman said:

I thought it was cute and funny

rdhull said:

thank you rd

summerdawn said:

u changed again...

cborgman said:

Mmm, Gin, my favorite. I'm holding you to that.

LittlePill said:

how bout a margarita instead ?

justkelley said:

Mmm, margarita, my favorite.

LittlePill said:

you are on!

cborgman said:

Yep! I like dark & sexy Prince better.

hahahaha - even i'm str8 and i really couldn't be bothered with all that sporting shit!
great story tho.

and look at it this way, you got a night off from us...hahahahaha!!!

U do like to blow u'r own horn, don't u? (in all possible ways)

You write so vividly! I loved every word!

conch5184 said:

Milty said:

SpcMs said:

Moonbeam said:

[This message was edited Sun Nov 2 5:56:55 PST 2003 by cborgman]

great story...can i steal it and flog it as mine?

DoctorNickRiviera said:

yes, but i can't be responsible if people think you are gay because of it