Tuesday, November 21, 2006

There is a Sound the Bat Makes... 

Game 1, Forrest Gump vs. The Predators

We had some first inning jitters and made some errors, allowing them a couple of extra outs resulting in 3 runs scoring. Our turn at bat came and went like lightning. It seemed Gump was out of sync with itself. Our defense straightened out, however, and held them the next several innings to a score of 3-0. But, the Gump bats just could not answer. We were getting out on pop flys and dribblers. There were very few hard hit balls. By the later innings, the score was 4-0. We were holding them, but that wasn't going to win the game for us. A couple of runs came in, but it wasn't going to be enough. 5th inning, Gump is down 4-2, then 5-2. Second to last inning our bats woke up, but were still groggy. We scored 2, making it 5-4. In the last inning, we got them out, three up, three down. We were home team so we had last at bats. Our first batter gets a single, but reaches second on a throwing error. No outs, runner in scoring position. I'm up. I'd been hitting ok most of the game; not great, but ok. First pitch goes by. Ball. Second pitch comes in looking like a beach ball. I swing. There is a sound the bat makes when it connects with the ball perfectly, right on the sweet spot. It's a solid sound, and it speaks for itself. You barely feel the ball leave the bat and you almost wonder if you even managed to hit it out of the infield. Then you see the outfielder backing up and looking up and over their shoulder. I ran hard. Our runner on second was slow, so I had to stop at second, she on third. I didn't see where my ball went, but later I was told over the center fielder's head, rolling into the fence. Still no outs, runners on second and third. Our next batter hits a dribbler to second. One out, no runners advance. The next batter hits a lazy pop fly to short. 2 outs, no runners advance. The next batter is one of our weakest batters. First pitch comes in and she's swinging. The ball goes up and over the head of the third baseman. Runner on third scores, making it a tie game. I score. Gump wins. Phew...

Game 2, Forrest Gump vs. Code Blue, The Championship

Code Blue is a solid team. They are well built and play hard, with a good grasp of the game. We'd beaten them twice in the regular season, but both were great games. The only thing they had going against them was their attitude, which stunk. We go back and forth with them all night. They score, we answer. We score, they answer. Both teams made some great plays in the field and both teams made some dumb plays in the field. Our bats had awoken fully by this point. Going into the last inning, we are up 15-14. We're home team again, giving us last at bats. They tie it up before we get three outs on them. 15-15, if we score, we win. It all. And they go home.

As we run back into the dugout to take our at bats, we notice, it's the same scenario as last game. Even the same people are up. Our third baseman steps into the batters box. She swings, she connects. Base hit. But she tries to stretch it into two, which is silly cause she's not that fast. Later she would say from where she was, she thought she had it. But she didn't. One out. I'm up. I step into the batters box and hear my brother call out from the stands, "Don't screw this up and ruin everything!" Wonderful encouragment, but it made me laugh and kept me loose. First pitch goes by. Ball. Second pitch goes by. Strike. (That's a 2-2 count in this league, which begins with a count of 1-1.) Third pitch. "There's a sound the bat makes..." I was very modest about this last night, but I honestly believed I had just hit a walk off home run to right field. It turns out I missed it by inches, the ball bouncing off the top of the fence and I pull into third with a stand up triple. (Earlier in the game, their pitcher got a single, and as she came into first, she threw an elbow to my left kidney. I didn't say anything at the time, determined not to let them get under my skin. If that's the way they want to play, that's their problem, not mine. I'm glad I didn't say anything either, because I answered her with my bat.) One out, I'm on third. Our center fielder comes to the bat and hits a hard hit ground ball. It gets out of the infield easy, right up the middle. I come around to score. Gump wins!!!! We got our picture taken (which I'll post as soon as I receive an e-copy of it), we got t-shirts declaring we're the league champs, and we then went out to celebrate. It was 1:00am when I finally got home. But luckily, the Boss Man had given me permission to come in a little late. :)

I've never been the champion of anything and may I be so bold to say, it feels good.




By Blogger Jane Ellen+, at 11:33 AM  

This is so exciting, I can't stand it!! Can't wait to see you tomorrow! Mom

By Anonymous Anonymous, at 9:01 PM  

Congrats! Should we call you Carbo or Pudge?

Man, do you even know what I'm talking about?

By Blogger Dawgdays, at 12:23 AM  

Dawgdays -

You talking about Bernie Carbo or Pudge Rodriguez?

By Blogger Ryan, at 8:33 AM  

Bernie Carbo and Carleton Fisk (the original Pudge). Game 5, 1975 World Series.

You never hear about Carbo's homer, but without that, Fisk's wouldn't have been as famous.

By Blogger Dawgdays, at 11:37 AM  

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