What time is it?

Gametime!
Well, not exactly gametime, but at least gameday, which is something.

Does it seem to you like it's been about two weeks since I've played a game?
It does? That's funny, because it does to me, too.
And do you know what that is?

Because it has.

Last Tuesday's game was rained out (scroll down to see the lovely satellite picture), and last Thursday's game had a direct conflict with one of Charlie's little-league games, which naturally took precidence. This past Tuesday was a "bye" - our team was not scheduled to play - leaving tonight the first time in a fortnight I will be taking the field.

On the morning after a game, our team captain usually sends out the results from the night before, with an enthusiastic e-mail attachment, "Great game last night, guys!" or "We played them close - next time we'll get them!"

This message is then usually kicked around the team in a "reply-to-all" e-mail chain, with the various players' opinions tacked on.

Last Friday (the morning after the game I missed), the game results came out, with no message from the captain. After a couple of hours, with no witty e-mail chain forthcoming, I sent out a tentative e-mail to the guys to ask how the game had gone.

I got a couple of one-word answers, some of which I can't repeat here, as this is a family blog. I can however, quote Zorak (pictured at left), who would have described the game as a "red-ass beat-down".

About twenty minutes later, I got a follow-up from my pal Steve, the erstwhile "Tinker" to my "Evers". Steve seemed to imply that my absence from the middle infield had ultimately doomed the mighty Translative Dick Ripplers, and that but for the lack of my stellar defensive presence, the 19-7 score would have been much closer, if not inverted. He went so far as to say that the core group of guys who went out for root beer floats afterwards agreed to pin the loss on me, and my absence.

While that is certainly not the case, it did feel good to feel missed. As I've said before, while I don't necessarily feel like a drain on the team, a negative presence, I certainly don't feel like a real positive force out there sometimes. I think I have decent "baseball instincts", and sometimes I even execute them. I just have to remember remember, while at bat, that there's a force in the universe that makes things happen, and all I have to do is get in touch with it, stop thinking, let things happen, and be the ball.


Injury Update:
Haven't posted one of these lately.
I really am surprisingly together for as out of shape as I am. I have a weird ankle tweak, which really hurts sometimes, and I have this ongoing wrist deal, which is always very sore the morning after a game. (It's also very sore after I play golf; there's something in the swinging motion that pinches a nerve in there or something.)

But my legs, muscles, et al seem to be holding up nicely.