You've been thrown around for hours, beaten by your close friend, Bat, and all anyone wants to do is stop you from going on your way. You are powerless to act and subject to unending abuse, except when flying through the air. Wouldn't you be frustrated, mad at the person trying to stop your one joy?
Well, apparently this one was.
This is what I get for having way too much fun at St. Patty's. I get drunk, promise to be on a softball team, and get my eye blackened by a bouncing grounder.
That's OK. It was worth it - the party and the softball practice. They've both been a hell of a lot of fun. (And, for those of you who knew me in my more youthful and uncoordinated days, I have but one comment - I don't suck!!)
For further softball updates, I'll be posting them from now on at my other blog site, Trails Recipes and Poems.
2 comments:
This is exactly why I don't play softball. The ball really likes me (or doesn't, you decide). I usually end up with a welt or a black and blue.
nope, I don't really like softball...
Sorry you are all bruised up! wanna have lunch next week?
This is exactly why I don't play softball. The ball really likes me (or doesn't, you decide). I usually end up with a welt or a black and blue.
nope, I don't really like softball...
Sorry you are all bruised up! wanna have lunch next week?
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