The Kickball Diaries, volume 1.

Week 1. Kitshickers vs 99 Problems but a Pitch ain't one.
Game time: 4/17/2008, 7:20pm
Game Conditions: It's hard to remember, but I'm sure it was hot, and dusk.
Result: L 4-1
Record: 0-1

Our league is a coed league, and there are inevitably rules about how many girls must play, a separate bunt line for the girls, and just a general feeling of how we can "even things" out to make up for the girls being crap players. It's a mindset that I hate. It implies that merely because I am a girl I will be one of the worst players, or worse that merely because someone else is a guy he will be a force. Just, untrue. Maybe. We began going over the rules, and our "manager" was explaining some things, pointing out the bunt line for the girls, telling me that as the center fielder I should come in when a girl was kicking, and informing me that my only strategy when at bat was to just try and kick it on the ground towards 3rd so I'd have a shot at getting on base. Well, I launched in to a diatribe about how girls can be good players too - how these rules were crap, how I could try and aim to kick a gosh-darn homerun if I felt compelled. He shrugged me off, and I took the field. RO'D was sitting out first, and watched the following transpire from the sidelines.

It was the first play I was going to make as a kickball-er, and let me just preface with...that ball is HUGE. It's about 3 times bigger than you are picturing in your head right now. It is red, similar to the one you probably used in elementary school - but bigger. Some guy kicks the ball to the outfield, it's totally mine, I'm all over it. And then....then this happened. I looked up, and this enormous ball was falling towards my face and I quickly realized I had NO IDEA what to do about it, not a clue. So, I closed my eyes, screamed a bit, and swatted erratically at the air. I shouldn't have to add (but I will) that I didn't even touch the ball at all, it went behind me. I turned and ran to it, picked it up, and half rolled, half overhanded it somewhere towards the in-field. Not nearly close enough to do anything reasonable. I think that guy was standing on third picking his nose by the time I finished with the ball. After that I brushed my shoulder off, and patted myself on the back for single-handedly undermining the integrity of female kickball-ers everywhere. When the inning was over RO'D slyly said to me, "Um, did you close your eyes?!" By the end of the game I was feeling it a little better - I knocked a few down, held some people from scoring, although I never once made a catch.

Behind the plate, the entire team was dead. It was my first at bat, and I walked over to home plate - instantly scared crapless - what would happen here, any one's guess. There was a radio nearby blastin' out some tunes, and while it was not my original theme song the new Madonna song, 4 minutes, came on. (Quick interruption - I've been obsessed with this song lately, listening to it maybe 6 times a day while dancing in my office) So as soon as I heard this I screamed over to RO'D - "This is the song I've been dancing to in my office all week", forgetting that I work in the same building as everyone else on the team. They all begin to laugh at me, as I danced my way into my first out. I finished the day 0 for 2 behind the plate.

But damn it all if I didn't have a ton of fun while doing it! Go Kitshickers, I smell a win soon....