Quite the Catch
Kickball is over. We dominated the season, but pooped the bed if you will for the championship. I'd blame it on our ability to hydrate heavily before the game, or just thinking we are natural born athletes, but in this case it just wouldn't be true. Instead I am going to put the blame on the attempted hidden poor sportsmanship from a gentleman named Karl. I'd like to put emphasis on the word attempt. You see, I think Karl has good intentions, or he did last year when there were several teams playing, but this year his blatant dislike for Team Pitch Slapped was almost comical. There were 3 teams in the league...that's including us. Which means the other two teams hated the fact that we showed up week after week in jorts, blaring loud music, showing no pride for ourselves - only that of America - and still managed to take home the W. So Karl, the big man on campus and head of the league, decided that during the championship game we were suddenly going to be playing by the rules? Weren't we the whole season? After several cough*bullsh*t*cough calls and dejecting our teammate David from the field, we lost. What happens next? Nothing. Well, relatively. We still kept tradition alive and like real winners kept our heads held high and headed straight to the watering hole. Jello awaits. The true highlight and message to the MVP of the night was Karl yelling ...."We are not going to start playing again until you are OFF THE GRASS!" - Cue David waving the American flag proudly from the parking lot as he watches his team take the field for one last inning. I'd say we left as champions after all.
I might not be able to catch a kickball, but I proved to be an animal when it comes to bouquets. At the Stewart/Sellers (#stellerwedding) wedding I apparently flung myself in the air for the win. I do love a good hydrangea. Perhaps I couldn't resist. The bruise on my foot and entertaining video footage from my iPhone proves that I am not the only one who was getting aggressive that night. Thank you to whoever snagged this snapshot of me and sent along to our friend - I love it? Maybe I have some sweet gems of you :) Nothing like getting pictures of yourself the next day from those not at the wedding. #paparazzi #sketchy - I guess I've reached the top.
Kickball is over. We dominated the season, but pooped the bed if you will for the championship. I'd blame it on our ability to hydrate heavily before the game, or just thinking we are natural born athletes, but in this case it just wouldn't be true. Instead I am going to put the blame on the attempted hidden poor sportsmanship from a gentleman named Karl. I'd like to put emphasis on the word attempt. You see, I think Karl has good intentions, or he did last year when there were several teams playing, but this year his blatant dislike for Team Pitch Slapped was almost comical. There were 3 teams in the league...that's including us. Which means the other two teams hated the fact that we showed up week after week in jorts, blaring loud music, showing no pride for ourselves - only that of America - and still managed to take home the W. So Karl, the big man on campus and head of the league, decided that during the championship game we were suddenly going to be playing by the rules? Weren't we the whole season? After several cough*bullsh*t*cough calls and dejecting our teammate David from the field, we lost. What happens next? Nothing. Well, relatively. We still kept tradition alive and like real winners kept our heads held high and headed straight to the watering hole. Jello awaits. The true highlight and message to the MVP of the night was Karl yelling ...."We are not going to start playing again until you are OFF THE GRASS!" - Cue David waving the American flag proudly from the parking lot as he watches his team take the field for one last inning. I'd say we left as champions after all.
Perhaps you peaked in softball? :)
ReplyDeleteI think we all know company softball wasn't my forte either
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