Saved by a Sasquatch

Ever since Sweeney graced the field with his presence and more importantly and significantly brought Katie in to join Kick James, he has been talking about a mythical entity known as Heather. According to young Sweens this Unicorn of a "girlfriend" was smart, attractive, could read, breathed real air, and wasn't totally fictitious or made of plastic. 

Katie referenced this golem of a girlfriend as well, but week after week she had to "work" or "hated fun" or "didn't want to get her new sneakers dirty, because they cost her a lot of money and she has OCD issues with dirt and cleanliness" or "she didn't exist." 

But just when we thought hope was lost (dun dun dun ominous music)  Down 2-1 against another mythical beast in the Fuzzy "Some Dumb Shit" Bunnies, a raucously tall, lanky, feminine spiral pink and yellow kickball team fighting to hold onto playoff hope, our very own siren stepped up to the plate. Two outs. Pressure never before seen by Kick James, especially when as she stepped up to kick she was reminded by some jerk that our entire season rested on her imaginary shoulders.

Using her fairy dust or glamour or something else I learned from watching True Blood, she made it to first. Advanced by the keen kicking of Timmy, himself an MVP contender with a game saving amazing catch in center field. An RKI possible kick by Phil, seen as some as a living legend, but seen by me as a guy named Phil I have no real connection to, sent our mythic mermaid merrily moving to home plate. The throw... it was going to be close... the ball took an awful turn in midair toward her holographic head, but superhero instincts sent her to her knees, awkwardly sort of sliding, sort of crawling onto home plate for the game tying run sending us to extra innings.

Like a laser (pew, pew, pew) in a game of Bear, Hunter, Laser,  Heather instantly existed and killed a ton of bears earning her her first run and her first I'm Kick James MVP non-existent trophy. Thank you Sweeney, thank you for surrounding yourself with females who are better than you at everything (I assume).

It wasn't a win, but it wasn't a loss. I'm Kick James and I'm still technically undefeated!

I'm Kick James (5-0-1) 2, Fluffy Stardust Bunnies ( 3-2-1) 2

Heather was obviously the MVP, or the previous 14 paragraphs would have been pointless (Much like most of this blog, am I right, am I right?)

Seagramsing turned into some sort of Hard Iced Tea'ing and I, earning the un-MVP, based not on performance or skill seeing as I didn't get on base and I had a terrible throw that could have lost us the game, but on team chanting and group thought, which is why I pretty much do anything. I don't think any of that run on sentence made any sense, but the point is I had a terrible game. But when people chant my name and pay attention to me I do what they tell me to do, because I'm 12 and dumb.

So we chugged those sweet, cold, delicious Tea's and basked in our tie. It was so cold.

Honorable mentions and brief complaints:

Amelia made up for a Pearson dropped ball by calling off the two dudes careening toward her and catching a hard kicked ball like a champ. 

Dave hilariously commented, "Amelia almost got slammed by two guys at the same time." I'm not sure if he meant it to be hilarious, but Amelia looked disappointed that the slamming didn't happen. 

Sandy got all Brookstone on us with his magic fingers in the field. Helping Timmy put an end to a crucial extra inning, proving once and for all that RIT graduates aren't total dweebs lacking social skills and athletic ability. They are total dweebs lacking social skills who happen to be very good at kickball.

Pearson had the option of being violent, but took the high road, which might have led them to winning the game, which teaches all of us the lesson that we should never take the high road and that violence helps everything in a positive way.

Shelley proved once again why Dave is always smiling by pitching a great game and nimbly handling at least 40 balls from the mound.

The real story of the night was Marcus (I just made up that name) our referee. Marcus had, shall we say, the worst night of reffing kickball this side of the Nile.

At least 5 blown calls including calling Brian "Brian" out after a sweet slide into third base, despite the fact that his stomach was on the base when the ball hit him. That led to a lost foot race challenge by Timmy and Sandy who really had no chance because those dudes were freaky fast. Jim's energy and exuberance wanted in on the race, but maybe next time. I am just now making the decision that we need to go back to our roots as a boozing team, no more races that don't involve beer. Win or lose, we should be drinking, not running. Thus spoke Zarathustra!

It probably didn't help that after the 3rd terrible call we were all collectively mean to him, but when an umpire actually says in the 8th inning, "my back was turned, I wasn't paying attention" and still gives the guy the base, you know something is wrong.

Ties are supposed to go to the runner, but according to Marcus they go to Fluffy Stardust Bunnies... but I digress. We're still undefeated and we have clinched a spot in the playoffs. 

Marshall Street was a ton of fun. Our biggest group showed up. 17 of us all together which led to a ton of tots and even more summer camp games.

Happy birthday to Don our fearless bartender who gave us a round of delicious free shots. There was a lot of chanting, a lot of toasting, a lot of interrupting the toasting, not enough hugging, but a significant amount of Bear, Laser, Hunter... which we should play constantly now.

Next week we start at 6pm and will need to bring our A game as we trade Bunnies for Kitten's and I would really like to keep our confidence up as we move into playoffs! 

So much fun, so much Kick James, so many people on our damn team.

Love them all!