Over the holiday weekend, my regular Sunday team was off. Instead of my girlfriend coming to my place to watch my game, I was going to spend the weekend at her place in Marin County. Besides, we had a wedding to attend in the wine country.
I was looking forward to a great party, and a softball free weekend (kind of). But then, I heard - a team I used to be on in the Sunday morning Jewish league was calling for players to travel to Marin to play in the first cross-bay Jewish softball tournament that Sunday afternoon. They were calling the Walnut Creek team an All-star team. Well, I may or may not be an all star, depending on the context. That's up to you to decide. But I threw my hat into the ring - I said I am going to be in Marin anyway, so if they needed a slow footed first baseman with no power that gets on base a lot, I am available.
Wouldn't you know it, they needed a player.
Then it gets complicated. My daughter wrecked her car, and had no wheels to get to work while it was getting repaired. I have my old motorcycle - it is not as old as me, but it is just as worn down. It's kind of grumpy like its owner. At any time it may or may not decide to start, or continue down the road.
Being the great father I am, I decided to loan my car to my daughter. It's just the kind of guy I am.
Now I had to pack my motorcycle for the weekend. I had to bring five pairs of shoes alone: Dress shoes for the wedding, sneakers, sandals for casual time, I had to wear my motorcycle boots, and of course bring my cleats. I had to pack my computer because really how could I go without it all weekend. And there was a suit for the wedding, and my softball uniform, etc. etc. etc. The rig ended up being as big as when I used to go camping on the bike. In the end I had to wear my softball bag, luckily I bought one of those backpack deals for my gear. There I was, tooling down the road, packed to the gills, and the softball bag flopping back and forth behind me. OK, not the safest way to travel, but I managed to get to Marin in one piece.
Then I had to make a stop at Walgreen's. Not too bright. The motorcycle decided it was time to take a break and wouldn't start. It must have been really stressed out by all the flopping around. But just then a good Samaritan came by, and offered to help me push start it. Ah Ha, I said to the bike, refuse me now.
It started and I made it the rest of the way.
By the way, we won the tournament. Some of these Jews just can't play ball at all (I can say that, you can't). And the wedding was great, and I took the scenic way home on Monday, and it was an absolutely gorgeous day for riding. Sometimes things just work out.
I was looking forward to a great party, and a softball free weekend (kind of). But then, I heard - a team I used to be on in the Sunday morning Jewish league was calling for players to travel to Marin to play in the first cross-bay Jewish softball tournament that Sunday afternoon. They were calling the Walnut Creek team an All-star team. Well, I may or may not be an all star, depending on the context. That's up to you to decide. But I threw my hat into the ring - I said I am going to be in Marin anyway, so if they needed a slow footed first baseman with no power that gets on base a lot, I am available.
Wouldn't you know it, they needed a player.
Then it gets complicated. My daughter wrecked her car, and had no wheels to get to work while it was getting repaired. I have my old motorcycle - it is not as old as me, but it is just as worn down. It's kind of grumpy like its owner. At any time it may or may not decide to start, or continue down the road.
Being the great father I am, I decided to loan my car to my daughter. It's just the kind of guy I am.
Now I had to pack my motorcycle for the weekend. I had to bring five pairs of shoes alone: Dress shoes for the wedding, sneakers, sandals for casual time, I had to wear my motorcycle boots, and of course bring my cleats. I had to pack my computer because really how could I go without it all weekend. And there was a suit for the wedding, and my softball uniform, etc. etc. etc. The rig ended up being as big as when I used to go camping on the bike. In the end I had to wear my softball bag, luckily I bought one of those backpack deals for my gear. There I was, tooling down the road, packed to the gills, and the softball bag flopping back and forth behind me. OK, not the safest way to travel, but I managed to get to Marin in one piece.
Then I had to make a stop at Walgreen's. Not too bright. The motorcycle decided it was time to take a break and wouldn't start. It must have been really stressed out by all the flopping around. But just then a good Samaritan came by, and offered to help me push start it. Ah Ha, I said to the bike, refuse me now.
It started and I made it the rest of the way.
By the way, we won the tournament. Some of these Jews just can't play ball at all (I can say that, you can't). And the wedding was great, and I took the scenic way home on Monday, and it was an absolutely gorgeous day for riding. Sometimes things just work out.
Definitely have some interesting softball related escapades, fun to read. BTW, hope you received the meatballs you special ordered from your waiter, er, server...........nice day at at dish, Jeffrey, perhaps a lineout in the eighth cost a perfect day.
ReplyDeleteDefinitely have some interesting softball related escapades, fun to read. BTW, hope you received the meatballs you special ordered from your waiter, er, server...........nice day at at dish, Jeffrey, perhaps a lineout in the eighth cost a perfect day.
ReplyDeleteYou there, this is really good post here. Thanks for taking the time to post such valuable information. Quality content is what always gets the visitors coming.
ReplyDeleteSoftball bags with wheels