So, we ended the season 4-3 (look for Recess Bullies). I finally had a night where both my offense AND defense weren’t crap, and we only lost by one point. I think I was robbed of a call at first where I hit the bag before the ball even made it to the first baseman’s hand. I delivered my disbelief with a calm, but assertive, “You’ve gotta be FUCKING kidding me!” in the general direction of the first base ump. I, at least, managed to drill the pitcher’s beer on my hit, sending a cascade of foam into the air, as well as rendering the can a much flatter state.
When we were leaving there was a man who walking his dog outside the fields. As Kmart, Matt, and I passed the dog started to squat to take a crap on the grass. The man reached into his pocket and hastily pulled a plastic bag over his hand while huskily whispering, “Oh thank you thank you thank you.” Now, I’ve watched people’s dogs before, so I know how much you want them to go to the bathroom sometimes. But mostly I just say, “Hey, [insert dog's name here] let’s get a move on with the poopin’.” Then the dog poops between 1 and 30 minutes later, I say, “Finally,” and the poop gets cleaned up and I move on. However, even if this incident was an hour coming, there was no explanation for the extremely creepy tone of the guy who had bagged the poo before the steam had stopped coming off of it. Blech.
