..and what do brothers do? They fight. More on this later.
In the game story, the Coneheads rode Lefty's back to squeak out a 7-6 win over a slightly improved Slammers team to remain undefeated at 6-0. I never doubted the game's outcome - we had the hammer and the Slammers were slamming nothing on us.
Lefty strode up in the first inning with two on and two out. The right fielder was playing about 50 feet behind the second baseman. I could see drool coming out of the corner of Lefty's mouth. He promptly deposited the ball deep into right center and the right fielder was caught flatfooted. The right center fielder gave chase but it was too late. Lefty followed Pope and Ol' G and scored easily and we were up 3-0.
You'd think that this was the beginning of one of our classical routs, but umpire Terry Mason kept the Slammers in the game with an exceedingly generous strike zone. Guys on both teams were bending this way and that to swing at garbage because he was calling everything a strike. We only hit .500 as a team and Ol' G was the only one of us with three hits, although Lefty and Chuck were 2-2. Bruce only had one hit in his return from the long list of long lost Coneheads, but one ball he lasered right at the right center fielder, who was lucky he didn't get knocked down.
You have to credit the Slammers - they never gave up and stayed within a run from the third inning to the end. But Ol 'G and Lefty drove in our sixth and seventh runs in the bottom of the sixth, and those proved necessary as the Slammers did rally for three in the seventh.
Speaking of that rally, how do you get the Stink Eye AND the Stink Mouth for actually making a play? I pulled that one off during that last inning. The Slammers had a runner on first, and the next hitter knocked a single to the outfield; I think a different runner scored, and the throw came to Joe on the mound. The runner on first assumed the guy in front of him was going to third and was half way to second when Joe got the ball. He made a quick decision and snapped a throw to me at first. The runner was a dead duck. He was too far to chase down and I looked up and the runner ahead was frozen in brain lock. So I chased the hitter. At second it was a cluster of Randy (SS), Ol' G (2B), Hazel (Rover) and the two runners. I figured if he kept going I could eventually tag one or the other out, rather than risk a throw into the crowd, and getting into a rundown. At that point the lead runner panicked and took off to third, way too late. Even with my candy-ass arm it was an easy lob to Chuck at third and he tagged him out.
And then, Joe erupted at me! Stink this stink that! You stink! Why did you do that? That was the wrong play! Well me and Joe, we are like brothers and I wasn't backing down. I may have even said a bad word as I not so politely told him to move the muscles near the opening in his face to please close the orifice.
I could write a book about all the times we have argued. If we were ten, we would have fallen to the ground wrestling til Mom came and separated us. Now there's an image for you. As it was, we managed to eventually take it off the field.
At the end of the game they made us hug and make up. I think we were over it anyway. I'm just glad there was no kissing required. Not that there's anything wrong with that. Now there is another image for you.
Milestone:
Chuck 550 ab (#1)
In the game story, the Coneheads rode Lefty's back to squeak out a 7-6 win over a slightly improved Slammers team to remain undefeated at 6-0. I never doubted the game's outcome - we had the hammer and the Slammers were slamming nothing on us.
Lefty strode up in the first inning with two on and two out. The right fielder was playing about 50 feet behind the second baseman. I could see drool coming out of the corner of Lefty's mouth. He promptly deposited the ball deep into right center and the right fielder was caught flatfooted. The right center fielder gave chase but it was too late. Lefty followed Pope and Ol' G and scored easily and we were up 3-0.
You'd think that this was the beginning of one of our classical routs, but umpire Terry Mason kept the Slammers in the game with an exceedingly generous strike zone. Guys on both teams were bending this way and that to swing at garbage because he was calling everything a strike. We only hit .500 as a team and Ol' G was the only one of us with three hits, although Lefty and Chuck were 2-2. Bruce only had one hit in his return from the long list of long lost Coneheads, but one ball he lasered right at the right center fielder, who was lucky he didn't get knocked down.
You have to credit the Slammers - they never gave up and stayed within a run from the third inning to the end. But Ol 'G and Lefty drove in our sixth and seventh runs in the bottom of the sixth, and those proved necessary as the Slammers did rally for three in the seventh.
Speaking of that rally, how do you get the Stink Eye AND the Stink Mouth for actually making a play? I pulled that one off during that last inning. The Slammers had a runner on first, and the next hitter knocked a single to the outfield; I think a different runner scored, and the throw came to Joe on the mound. The runner on first assumed the guy in front of him was going to third and was half way to second when Joe got the ball. He made a quick decision and snapped a throw to me at first. The runner was a dead duck. He was too far to chase down and I looked up and the runner ahead was frozen in brain lock. So I chased the hitter. At second it was a cluster of Randy (SS), Ol' G (2B), Hazel (Rover) and the two runners. I figured if he kept going I could eventually tag one or the other out, rather than risk a throw into the crowd, and getting into a rundown. At that point the lead runner panicked and took off to third, way too late. Even with my candy-ass arm it was an easy lob to Chuck at third and he tagged him out.
And then, Joe erupted at me! Stink this stink that! You stink! Why did you do that? That was the wrong play! Well me and Joe, we are like brothers and I wasn't backing down. I may have even said a bad word as I not so politely told him to move the muscles near the opening in his face to please close the orifice.
I could write a book about all the times we have argued. If we were ten, we would have fallen to the ground wrestling til Mom came and separated us. Now there's an image for you. As it was, we managed to eventually take it off the field.
At the end of the game they made us hug and make up. I think we were over it anyway. I'm just glad there was no kissing required. Not that there's anything wrong with that. Now there is another image for you.
Milestone:
Chuck 550 ab (#1)
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