Game Recap - Mother's Day Madness

Salutations, dear softball brethren!

Sunday's brilliant outing provided a clandestine, insta-classic match for the ages. Like the over-arcing theme of a Proust or Joyce novel, yesterday's torrid affair was based upon that unrelenting constant of human existence existentially, incompletely and obtusely known as "time." Or, to be put more concretely: old-ass creaky-joints motherfuckas versus barely-legal teen jailbait.

Yes, on the day set aside to celebrate our mothers (the invaluable cargo vessels charged with delivering us safely to the magnificent shores known as life), a brave crew gathered in the tepid heat to do battle on the field of glory. As the (let's be honest) underwhelming numbers slowly arrived solo or in pairs, an enticing proposition was offered--the youth (for they are our future!) and their youthfulness would spar with the aged ones (for they are our present!) Also, there can only be one. Highlander, et al.

The vigorous Baby Dicks took to the skies and flew like the brash, majestic eagles they so obviously were, jumping out to a quick 9-0 lead after just one inning of play. But the Council Elders (note: not the squad's real name, but records of the contest are incomplete, at best) simply needed a few innings to warm the joints. By the seventh inning stretch, the wily vets had crawled back into striking distance, trailing only by a flimsy handful of runs. IT WAS A GAME, PEOPLE!

Unfortunately for the wise old souls, it was not meant to be. They dug deep, managing to trim the lead to a paltry 21-20. Alas! Could their youthful opponents simply be toying with the creaky, over the hill has-beens? (Shakes Magic Eight Ball) "All signs point to yes." The intrepid Baby Dicks tacked on a few insurance runs and pulled out a barnburner, 23-20. Wisdom was passed down from one generation to the next, Social Security numbers were revealed, and the youngsters confused the oldies with tales of a curious place called "the internet." Music today, with all the sexin' and swearin', it's no good! Yeah, whatever gramps. You know what I'm sayin'?

But wait! Controversy was afoot! One of the Baby Dicks' most stalwart and valuable of players, a certain "Pam," was rumored to have forged her birth certificate in an effort to join the most obviously superior team. Channeling the myriad Latin American baseball superstars in every conceivable manner--including dubious insistence of youth as well as 5-tool skills and unflappable calm in high-pressure situations--the player in question quite possibly was the game-changing force for the Baby Dicks. Will this game go under review by the League office? Stay tuned, true believers!

Game Recap - Easter Suare

Today's gentlemanly match was an intimate experience shared between a group of tight-knit friends. No more than 14 dedicated, brave softballers brought their wide range of abilities to the diamond on the day of Our Lord, Easter (fuck off, "god", we want to drink beer and rip doubles off the right field fence). Good 'ol 7-on-7 fare, players pitching and catching against their own teammates and everybody stepping into the batter's box at least six times. Worse things have happened in the world (like the Hindenburg, or--hey now!--Jesus dying for our sins).

The plucky upstarts known as the Dream Kids--homage to Dave McCary's (defunct?) band--steadily built a solid lead, scoring a couple runs in each of the first four innings. Simultaneously, the go-getters played stellar defense, holding the business-minded Reality Checks scoreless for a respectable period. Scholars and researchers alike will confirm that the highlight of the day, or possibly the best moment of all time, occurred when all-star Grahm (sic) Fink made a jaw-dropping, full-extension center field layout with two men in scoring position that put a momentary hold on the Reality Checks' designs to drive in a bunch of fucking runs. I'm sorry, sir, but your card has been declined! If you know what I mean.

But, as in life, the scrappy Dream Kids could not withstand the sheer brute power and overwhelming ability of the workmanlike Reality Checks. Final score: 17-11 in a shortened 7 inning affair. There are more Rwanda genocides out there than Obama's becoming the first black president in American history, if you catch my drift. Life is unfair, the underdog is the underdog for a reason, and things have a way of working out in the most obvious, boring and disappointing fashion. As Taylor of beloved Kid Nation fame would quip, "Deal with it!"

Quite obviously, this is the "Observe and Report" of eastside softball recap blog posts.

Recap: Dave is Vanquished

The giant hath been felled. Dave's iron-fisted grasp upon Eastside softball subsided on Sunday--for now. His squad just couldn't get it done against Nick's ragtag can-doers, "The Pins." A hot day, a glorious day, a day that will undoubtedly be recorded in the annals of history.

An important notice (which implies that people read this blog, to which I can only guffaw whilst simultaneously exhale a melancholy lament): The days are growing shorter, and daylight is slowly trickling from our outstretched fingertips. I realize the futility in this plea, but please can we try to start a little earlier? Say 2:30? Can anybody hear me..?

Let's all try to be like Bo out there.

Worst Game Ever Redux

This week's game smelled more than Cary Grant taking a bath in skunks after a bout of hot sweaty man love. Though the match began with a heartwarming tribute to two recently deceased celebrities, the Bernie Macs Forever--led by first-time manager Ron Parkins--quickly succumbed to the brutal intensity and je na se qua of Dave McCary's juggernaut collection, R.I.P. Isaac Hayes.

Some "highlights":

1) B-Macs' 1-2-3 top of the first, followed by The R.I.P.'s eight-run explosion in the bottom of the first. The tone was set.

2) The numerous motivational speeches by Skipper Parkins.

3) Mustang's "golden boy" status for cutting the deficit from 18-0 to 18-1 in the 7th.

4) Josh. Always.

5) Albi steps to the plate in the 9th, epic comeback still in reach (only 20 runs to tie!). The crowd rises, a whisper on their lips, "Albi...Albi..." The words grow stronger, "Albi, Albi." It becomes a furious torrent of audible yearning, "Albi! Albi!" ...Then he sends a lazy pop fly to third.

Luckily, the Cha Cha Lounge's patented Bloody Marys were there to reward the victors and console losers alike. Besides, there's always next week. Keep checking back this week for some photos of the game and (possibly) info about a radical housewarming party.

Recap: Worst Game Ever

So, I think we got through 5 innings and wow, was it a stinker for my team, The Monsters. It was too damn hot. I don't really have too much more to say about it except U-G-L-Y. Those of you who chose to ditch L.A. and go hang out in Indio with a ton of other people, you didn't miss much, though we did miss you. Can't wait for a great game this week, as we are celebrating Cinco de Mayo. More on that later. See you on the field!

Love
Mustang

Recap: Opening Day

I can't believe it was two weeks ago....

Look at all of your beautiful faces! What a great game!
Check out the rest of the photos here.
I'm really looking forward to lots of fun at Tommy Lasorda Field this year.
Thanks to Lucinda for the sweet photos! If anyone has any more, send them to eastsidesoftball@gmail.com, since that seems to be the best use of the blog so far.

See you on the field!

Love, Mustang

=:=:= Spring Training Recap - 3/23/08 =:=:=

Hey Hey, Mustang here!

Yesterday at the game, I heard a little griping about not enough postings, so here ya go!

Easter Sunday, 1:00 PM - I arrive at the field to find only my co-commissioner there. Soon enough some of the softball stalwarts began to arrive and eventually we got ourselves a game:

The Scorching Dans v. The Gang of Evans

Well, it was a fun one, highlighted by the game ending double play turned by some kid who I was calling A-Rod because he was wearing a Texas Rangers jersey (I couldn't think of anyone's name on the current Texas roster). Phenomenal! Silk hits a rocket liner the other way and this little 10 year old just sticks his glove out there and nabs it, and then quickly gets the ball out of the glove and over to me at first, doubling off a befuddled Dave Janik.

Here are some photos from the game:






Great game everyone! See you all (and more I hope) next week on the field. Opening Day is the following week, so get ready and tell your friends!

Peace Out

Mustang