We're Kick James and we just beat Off in the Shower

Great team name and an excellent night of ball kicking and Seagramsing... more of that later.

Some athletic partnerships, teams if you will, come together and dominate based on talent, teamwork, and raw power. Others, I'm Kick James for instance, relies on enthusiasm (thanks Jim), personal sacrifice (thanks Gabe's balls), luck, and Sandy being super fuckin fast. Like Speedy Gonzalez with a little bit of a comb over and a law degree.

It might have taken us 8 innings, but a win is a win is a win is awesome.

I'm Kick James 6 (I think), Off in the Shower 3

4 and 0 baby! Appropriate, as our own Fordy had a break out day in the field catching what I thought was two, but what he smuggly reminded me was 3 catches in right field.

The story of the night was really all the extras. A couple extra players as our good friend Hoffy helped out by hanging out at first base all night... casually stepping on and off the field between actually playing first base and then coaching first base. Only coming to the bench to kick, get a beer, and give high fives.

Our new friend Ashley made her Kick James debut without a lot of fanfare, but with quite a bit of booze. So that's good.

Two MVP's were awarded on the spot as Hoffy had a special surprise for the winners.

Sandy was the clear victor for MVP one. Automatic as ever in the field, but really proving his worth after the other team "didn't have anyone who shotguns" when we challenged them on a play where Gabe was clearly safe on first.

Side note - Smith number 21, our umpire, took kickball refereeing really really seriously, and I still can't tell if he was a complete douche or a good person. Either way, he is serious about kickball so we don't want him playing on our team.

Back to MVP talk. A denied challenge is met with a rebuttal. Since they obviously didn't care about drinking as much as we did, they pulled their rebuttal straight off the 3rd grade playground. A footrace around the bases. Sandy at 2nd base, finishing his beer, their dude, we'll call him Ralph, he looked like a Ralph, not drinking like a dildo that doesn't drink at home plate. The non existent gun was fired (#21 really just said go) and off he went. Golden locks flying feathered and furiously through the air as the sun hit what I'm guessing are glowing sky blue eyes (blond hair, blue eyes, lawyer... it's like a combo John Grisham novel and Matthew McConaughey movie) and Sandy returned to second base victoriously! We were already winning! (We were actually already winning, because it was 1-0 at that point).

Gabe our second MVP sacrificed both his testicles and chesticles in his role as DK (designated kicker). Recording three kicks, one nut shot, one Pete Rose head first slide that made Brian's slide last week look like a skidmark in his underpantaloons, and two runs scored secured his spot as MVP.

And what was their special surprise? In Sandy's own words - "I'm Kick James and I just got Seagramsed" No Icing here folks. Hoffy surprised our victors with a bright pink and maybe bright green Seagrams Cooler. On bended knee (As sung by Boys II Men) Sandy and Gabe locked arms and took that shit down. I'm sure it was delicious, but it must have felt really weird when they instantly grew vaginas.

Dave was the real victim in all of this, once again just missing out.  Our limber fingered (lucky Shelley) anti-hero was this close (I'm holding my thumb and pointer finger about an inch apart) to earning MVP status. Five or six amazing catches in right field after showing everyone his glowingly beautiful naked body by changing on the field because he needed to come straight from work.

Come to think of it, nope, Gabe and Sandy are still the victims because of the Seagramsing... a tradition in the making... maybe. Still, great job out there Dave.

Honorable mentions and other highlights:

PJ's first RKI! A great kick and a much needed run.

Other huge RKI's by Katie and Jenna. All the ladies on our team keep getting better and better and are the cornerstone to our boners wins.

Heidi was super drunk and hilariously talking trash from the catchers position.

Sweeney's eyes literally murdered #21 when he was told he intentionally dropped the ball. Using agility and Irishly pastey skin, Mr. S. Weeney stopped a rocket of a line drive, but couldn't quite hold on. The ump's accusation of dropping the ball on purpose enraged young Dr. Sweeney, which resulted in his skin tone morphing instantly from translucent to normal pale white person.

Impromptu mascot Daisy Chew did not like it when we were losing and almost pulled Katie into the field and gave herself a heart attack by going completely ape shit from the sidelines.

I still don't know why Jim sprints everyplace, but he does and we love him for it... weirdo.

My quads hurt from being awesome at kicking and third base.

(Why is it when we talk about sports or stretching it's always your quads, but when it's normal life it's your thighs? Probably because if I would have written, my thighs hurt from being awesome at kicking and third base everyone would have either thought I was a Jim (weirdo, get it) or got instant mental images of my white, awkwardly hairless, muscular man thighs and would have had to close their doors at work or retire to the lavoratory for those of you in cubicles. If you're reading this at your desk in a classroom, I just hope there isn't a fire drill forcing you to stand up and reveal your excitement to the frightened children. "Why's it so crooked?" Is what I'm sure they'd say.)

Off in the Shower's MILOMKT* deserves some attention as she had two rockets kicked to her, both of which she caught with her finger tips;  Dave style (lucky Shelley).

* MILOMKT refers to a Mother I'd Like on My Kickball Team as she was the lady with a month old baby and a 2 year old on the sideline.

Marshall Street had a great crowd of KJ'ers and maybe the 4 orders of waffle fries weren't necessary, but they were delicious.

Players we didn't think about or miss at all:

The Vassar Brothers - Jesse, Phil, and Brian.

I hope recording went well, but you obviously offer nothing to the team. You better show up swinging next week or I'm not really sure the roster will have room for people who care more about making music that brings joys to dozens of people and inspires friends to dance and enjoy each others company more than they care about a kickball team that meets for 17 weeks a year in order to drink and make fun of each other. Pri -or-it-ies!

Timmy - Your job is going to be the death of our man love.

Pearson - Your sore quads thighs, though initially the thing that attracted me to our man love, are going to end up being the death of the aforementioned man love.

Bonus:

We got a ton of pictures last night and I will update the blog and include a bunch as soon as I can.
We also did a lot of toasting with all the eating and drinking at Marshall Street (that just means I talked a lot and begged for attention). My lovely wife was kind enough to record one such speech that took a strange turn for the racial That will also be posted. Stay tuned!

I'm Kick James and I'm even more undefeated this week than I have been the 3 previous weeks... and I was totally undefeated those weeks, which tells you how undefeated I am now.

Bro's Bunting Bro's

So those guys were a bunch of bunts.

You could tell they were bunts because their vaginas were showing.

See what I'm doing there, I'm using the word bunt as a euphemism or replacement for the "c" word dudes aren't allowed to say unless they are British (dude, Brits get away with everything!) or Louie CK (dude, Louie CK gets away with everything!).

Seriously though, three dude bunts in the same game. All the dudes could kick really well too. I mean one dude was dressed completely in black, including his leggings (maybe they were jeggings) and his wide receiver's gloves for successfully catching 70 MPR rockets thrown by Peyton Manning (RIP, Peyton's Football Career / Welcome to the world, Peyton's NBC sitcom that will almost definitely be green lit within two years), or kicks kicked by kickers on Kick James (Still talking about the gloves). Seriously that guy looked like he was ready to play in an arena football league, perform parkour, or fight a bunch of other super scrawny and bunting ninjas. If they would have just nailed the ball, like the ladies on their team, they might not have lost.

BUT THEY DID!!!! KICK JAMES IS STILL UNDEFEATED 3-0!!!

Final Score: Kick James 6, Salinjerks - 5.

They really lived up to their name, as they were a bunch of Sally's.

MVP Award is tough today... let's look at some of the highlights, shall we.
Yes, we shall.

We've (and by we I mean I) picked no Timmy quite a bit for his sexist fielding practices. None effected more by Timmy's natural magnetism to the kickball than Shelley. Not today my friends... First, from the mound, Shelley pulls off some reverse sexism by fielding the ball cleanly, turning to second where Amelia, firmly planted on the bag, had her anxious, yet prepared hands waiting for the throw and the force out, (yes folks, this is another run-on sentence, try to keep up, we're still talking about Shelley fielding the ball and turning to make the play at second), but instead of the 6 foot toss to Amelia's ready hands, Shelley tossed the ball 5 feet to Sandy who was 8 feet away from the bag. Sandy, with his quick feet and excellent hugs, made the play cleanly, but not before Susan B. Anthony turned over in her grave.

Having an intense and almost hyper-sexual connection to Ms. B. Anthony, Shelley tried to redeem herself and the women who suffered for suffrage when a high fly ball was kicked to right center field. A conversation had been conversed, and it went something like this.

Timmy: "Shelley, I'm going to catch all the balls that come near you."
Shelley: "Okay."

But Shelley is a liar! The ball, soaring majestically through the air reminding me of Pearson's Apollo Creed shorts, approached Shelley at the same pace as Timmy, who was prepared for the catch. But with a firm and confident last minute "I got it!" Timmy knew what to do. A quick tuck, a quiet roll, and Timmy was on the ground, fetal position, fearing the wrath of Piles. It was unnecessary as Shelley caught the ball with ease, threw it to the pitcher and said. "Take that mother fucker!" (I assume).

Sweeney, after admittedly taking it easy in his Kick James premier, stepped up to the plate both literally and figuratively. He kicked the ball, quite well, three times, and caught everything that came near him... and got there early... and drank a bunch... and brought Katie... and might just be ready to start hugging me.

Former MVP Jim chose his children's health and well being over Kick James (MVP Revoked?), so his younger more present brothers Brian "Brian" and Dave "we need to come up with a nickname for Dave" rose to the occasion. Dave's unsure stutter steps are just a distraction and diversion to make the other team and myself think there is no way he is going to catch the ball, when in fact he catches everything. Brian brought the hustle and his typical good form, sliding, Pete Rose style, head first and completely unnecessarily with a gambling problem into second base. Filthing up his shirt and proving his dedication to the team and love of attention rivaled only by my own. (look at me look at me, I write a blog... what a dick that Chew guy is).

In his Kick James debut, Pearson showed off some leg in the aforementioned American flag shorts, and his uncanny ability to catch a ball that is kicked directly to him. On the shorts Dan was fakely quoted as saying, "I spend so much time wiping my ass with various American Flags that I figured I should just cut one up, burn the scraps, and make it into a pair of shorts." Who needs patriotism when you have well supported testicles and warm thighs?

PJ recorded his first RKI, but still didn't play the field, I don't think. Not mad about it, I'm just happy he's there.

The bunt taunting had the Jerks a little agitated. I don't think they had ever encountered a team that was so good, but cared so little. (Except for Jesse). They managed to fight back and tie the game up at five going into the last inning. It was a hard thing to watch, but the infield did their job, excellent catches by Sandy and Timmy, I think, I don't know I wasn't paying attention because my heart wasn't beating like a normal person's.

The ample crowd waited with bated breath. The Collins brothers sat in silence, probably holding hands with each other. Alyssa just looked really cold. Heidi and Katie looked ready for an 80's style street fight in their head to toe black leotards (I assume that's what you were both wearing, I don't remember). Gabe was also there, I don't think he did anything though.

Bottom of the seventh. Jesse "subdued rage" has the opportunity for glory and immortality. Should he kick for another home run, or should he play it safe. Or should he do a crazy well placed kick just through the infield and get on base... yeah the last one, he should have done the last one. Good job Jesse.

Ashley advances the runner... that's just what she does. Clutch team player Ashley. Thank you for letting me steal and hand out what was left of your beers at the end of the day. The cooler wasn't directly in my line of sight and I'm pretty lazy.

Up comes Billiam Ford. Known more for his supple hands and ability to deliver children than his perfect kickball placement, Fordy made the split second decision not to light his cigarette. Instead he quietly walked to home plate. He looked the pitcher in the eyes. Called her a bunt (it was inappropriate) under his breath, and ripped an walk-off RBI game winning single. I think I forgot to hug him.

Everyone sighed with relief. Phil peed a little bit. Lizz (Phil's sister), though not present, almost certainly felt the relief and joy of the win and probably said something like, "Hmm, it's chilly in here."

So we won. Entirely a team effort. Everyone did really well. It got a little intense and our normal team inspired boner inducing energy wasn't quite there, (not enough hugging), but on a scale of one to Kick James, we were still totally a 9.5 and the other team was jealous of our raw sexuality and intense knowledge of Star Wars and romantic comedies.

So now, on to the MVP... This week, the I'm Kick James MVP line in the blog goes to the team lap and team stretches. It was really cold out there yesterday, and if not for the lap and the stretching, we would have all surely died a painful and horrible frost bite/tendonitis related death. Even those who showed up a little late were sure to stretch it out, and without that dedication to our personal health and well being, the entire team could have caught the bubonic plague or been chased down by rabid badgers... who knows what could have happened. All I know is that it didn't happen. It didn't happen, not because those scenarios are stupid and ridiculous, but because we were prepared. Limber. Loose. Languid. Loquacious. Lithe. L-Awesome.

We definitely weren't a bunch of bunts.

I'm Kick James and I might just be a great kickball team.

Capes, challenges, crooners and game ending double plays... oh my

One for the ages (of 23 to 35)

Thanks to Jim "formally known as Amber Alert"'s ridiculously lucky and skillfull, game ending and MVP earning double play I'm Kick James continues their undefeated streak through the fall folliage!

(seriously, I think we should go team streaking)

Jim's enthusiasm and Tae Bo ripped body propelled us to a victory that will go down in blogging history... only because blogs don't really go away and it is currently being written about.

I'm Kick James 4, Sexual Meatloaf 3, Dignity -7

There were so many highlights from last night I don't even know where to begin. I'm gitty. A grown man sitting in his office that used to be a dorm room with a perma-smile on his face just thinking of all the fun things that happened last night.

First and foremost was Sexual Meatloaf themselves. What started as two dudes hanging out looking homely and lonely turned into a solid group of fifteen people strutting to field seven as a sexual soirée of superheroes. Batman was there (he's gained weight), as were princess cupcake, captain meatloaf and countless other nameless caped kickballers.

They were obviously there for good times and until they challenged my safe slide into third base (excellent base running captain... thanks team, it means a lot) and their stoic shotgunner inhaled his beer narrowly edging out our very own Dominican Dainty Dipper (Gabe) with the Das Boot shotgunning technique, I really liked them.

You might notice that the "I really liked them" doesn't quite seem to fit by the time you get to it, but please take a moment to go back and read the previous section again. No it is not a paragraph. Yes it is a run on sentence. Yes I am still angry that I was called out. Yes that is when I started hating the nicest most fun team we've ever played. Yes they were dicks toward the end.

Honorable mentions for the night:

Katie, our newest recruit, brought to us from the hardened streets of Webster (I think) and hallowed halls of Paychex.  Without knowing anyone or much argument she stepped up, earned a base hit, sort of narrowly/sort of completely lost the second shotgun challenge and 30 second later (after only showing up fifteen minutes before) quietly uttered: "I'm so drunk!" Welcome to Kick James Katie... much more to come.

Shelley started the game with a vicious inning on the mound personally recording two outs and spreading fear to the heart of meatloaf. Almost as if to say, "I could be the MVP again if I want to, but I'm not going to because I'm a team player."

Jesse's gigantic left foot ripped a huge kick into right field. He ran, arms flailing and with a high pitched squeal as fast as he could to secure our lead with the first Kick James Home Run of the season!!!
We asked him to do it again the next time he was up, but he failed miserably and I think he only got a base hit... like a jerk.

Timmy unfortunately couldn't leave his place of employment, but no fear, Sandy took over for him and jumped in front of as many girls as he could to steal the ball away from them. Thanks Sandy, you know how much we all miss Timmy when he's gone.

Jims catch and double play might have been out-shined by his little brother who (after being told to back up) called a bomb hit directly toward him in center field. Hands up, eyes on the prize, feet shuffling young Dave realized the ball was over his head (told you to back up... just sayin). There was no back peddling this one out, Dave turned on a dime, complete 180 and started his sprint. As the ball descended we were sure it was at least a base hit and potentially a couple of runs, but at the last second our young hero outstretched this fragile computer geek hands and caught the ball from over his shoulder. It was an amazing feat. You could tell it was amazing because Dave stood there holding the ball, stunned and self gratified, while the base runner tagged up and scored a run... thus losing Dave his potential MVP status, gaining all of us this story, and putting another notch of awesome on the bedpost that is Dave's life.

By Sweeney's own admission, he did not do much during the game so he made up for it at Marshall Street. That's true dedication... or a drinking "issue".

Ben Colins tried to come play, but he ended up playing for a different team on a different field and making his way over to us as we were leaving. Good effort Mr. Collins.

It was a great day in the life of Kick James. So great in fact that a soldier in Iraq sent us a singing telegram in the form of a drunken Zorro playing the Violin and singing "Pour some sugar for me." (not even the right lyrics Zorro). At first we thought this caped crooner was just another Meatloafian, but no, he was actually sent to one of their players. Her inappropriate comment and reaction to her soulja boyfriend was "I'm going to kill him. If the terrorists don't kill him in Iraq, I'm going to kill him." Seriously, she said that.

Marshall street was pretty awesome. Don wore our Jersey proving his love for Kick James. Kelly, his wife, on the other hand, wore the other Thursday teams Jersey proving her loathing and complete hatred of all of us. Sandy and Ashley ordered enough food to satiate Andre the Giant (assuming he still eats a ton even though he's dead). People cheered for sports. Pitchers were poured, laughter was loofed, Brian was not missed.

I know I missed stuff... plenty of stuff... so much stuff. Please share the rest of the stories.

I'm Kick James, very nice to meet you.

Oh yeah, Amelia got hurt running... could this be the girls season of injury? Stay tuned... dun dun dun!!! (Ominous music)

Oh yeah, I also have a laser rocket arm and throw bitches out on first like it's my job.
(I guess it is my job though, seeing as I was playing third base and by position description my job is to stop the ball and throw it to first base if that is where the play is at. So in retrospect I did nothing but my job.)

UPDATE

We are officially in first place in our division. People look up to us.

That was a good snatch...

Ladies and Gentlemen!!!!

Introducing the uncompromising, unbelievable, undisputed 7 - to - 1 champion of last nights kickball game against the Grassholes who were a great  competitor except for that one guy who was a dick to Shelley....

I'm

Kick

James!

Season opener MVP was definitely Shelley. Making her pitching debut and punishing kicker after kicker. Her grace and beauty were matched only by the line drive caught by Amelia "Snatch"/"Snatch Swan"/"Good Snatch".

The catch wouldn't have been nearly as memorable if it were not for Elijah, my three year old nephew, who was sure to tell her it was a "good snatch." Awwwww minor forms of child exploitation. Phil's nephew Reece was also in attendance, but was abused significantly less. They both giggled a lot and learned numerous choice words they were previously unfamiliar with... like snatch for example. They didn't know what it meant so I was sure to take them both aside and explain every possible meaning of the word and the plot to the extremely underrated Guy Ritchie movie. They both preferred definition number two... the anatomical one. (Elijah's words, not mine).

Other highlights: Sandy's seemingly quadruple play where he caught the ball, tagged the base, threw another guy out, climbed Everest, fought Polio, wrote the great American novel (he called it Kick James: A Life of Balls and Wonder).

Brian "Brian" didn't hit any women, so that's three out of six games without assault. He's abusing at .500.

Despite Jenna both calling for the pop fly that was kicked directly to her hands and begging Timmy not to catch it and to give her a chance for glory and kickball fame, Timmy made a really fuckin cool flying catch through the air in center field. Jenna's automatic catch that she definitely would have caught and there was no way she would have dropped would have been nice and all, but Timmy's thieving flying catch was really something to see. Mostly the shame in his eyes afterwards.

Substitute kickball stud Pat nailed the ball around the field and hurdled a rocket thrown right at him on his way home. Pat's heroics and acrobatic triumphs will be forever remembered as he leaves us for dumber pastures and moves to Boston for a job just so he can "advance his career" and "make more money..." lame.

I managed to slip on some dangerously wet grass after having probably the best kick of the game. Jesse had a pretty good one too, but mine was sort of awesome. Too bad, you know, I fell down.

The good thing, though, nobody was injured! Whether it was the team stretch and lap or the calming and soothing presence of young children and a first aid kit, or the fact that we're all in peak physical shape, I don't know, but we made it through our first game completely in tact.

It was a great turn out. A fantastic performance all around. It's only going to get better as the season progresses. I need to encourage everyone to car pool more often so we can all drink more. Drinking more is definitely a necessity.

Things we need:

More booze
More Loughners
More hugging
Lot's more nudity
A mascot uniform
More pictures just for fun

Less not hugging

See you next week ladies and gents. If I forgot anything, which is really easy for me to do, comment on the blog or shoot out an email and I'll make an addendum. You're great.

I'm not sure about you, but I'm Kick James