That guy sitting by himself in the metal bleachers behind home plate at the softball field tonight? That was me. My nephews play in a big-time slow-pitch league, and they're good. They hit, they field, they run like crazy. And tonight their team won, 34-8. That's what kind of a big-time league they play in.
Okay, so it wasn't poetry in motion. It wasn't exactly the highest plane of athletic achievement. Later in the game the team started to play down to the level of its meager competition. Otherwise the score might have been 40-0. Both Eric and David had multiple-hit games and scored numerous runs. In a five-inning game, they were up five times (and Eric had five extra-base hits). They both made plays in the field, too. Eric tagged and scored from third on a foul pop-up that David hit to the catcher, turning an out into the shortest sacrifice fly I've ever seen.
They were having too much fun to suit the other team, I think. It's hard not to get a little giddy (not to mention cocky) when you're playing that much better. I think you start to take for granted the notion that you're going to keep hitting and keep scoring runs. But they weren't rude or unsportsmanlike about it. In fact, it was players on the other side who lost their sense of humor and started acting as if they wanted to quit.
My response (which I said out loud but not within their earshot): If you don't like getting beat, play better. If you want the batter to swing, throw strikes. Geez Louise, it's not that complicated. Try bending over for a ground ball and maybe it won't go under your glove every time. Gimme a break with your attitude.