if you don't enjoy softball posts, i'm sorry. too much good to report. makeup softball monday night, a haphazard assembly of our team regular guys plus 'any girl we could find.'

first, the bad: we split.

next, the good: i was, by far, the best player out there.

["in fact, i'm probably the most modest person i know." - ray lewis, on hbo's hard knocks]

despite an unreasonable and ultimately stupid demotion from the number one spot in the lineup to the nine hole, i went a strong 6-for-7 at the plate wednesday. [it should be noted that our new leadoff guy struck out twice.]

game one: 4-for-4, with the at-bats going single, triple, double, infield single.

game two: 2-for-3, with the at-bats going, i believe, single, groundout, hustling double to right-center.

i didn't track runs scored or rbi - it was simply too difficult - but i know that i did my part.

you'll recall from last week's miserable entry that we were terrible five days ago. i was particularly terrible, misplaying balls all over the place in left field. however, i was gold glove-caliber tonight. i believe i caught all five balls hit my way. [it may have been four, but it was damn impressive.]

this included, in game one, a galloping grab on a ball short of me. i had taken a poor route, starting back and right, but hustled in and made the game-ending basket catch on a quickly-paced trot. final score: us 21, them 16

the other fantastic play came in the midst of a three-pitch inning (seriously. ...more amazingly, we had gone down on three pitches in the bottom half of the frame, prior to their hacks). two down, flare to left. this guy comes sprinting in, gets to his knees, and makes a keith moreland-like sliding grab. so good, in fact, that i got a high five from the guy i robbed. if it sounds like i'm gloating, it's only because i was absolutely fantastic.

also worth noting: the "hustling double" i referred to was actually a sliding double, on which i pushed the envelope and came up with a solid gash on my right leg to show for it. to be honest, i'm quite proud that i was still able to properly slide, as i formed a fine figure four and popped up immediately. i also showered to clean it out upon my return home.

i think that i'm a fun opponent. when coaching third, i make odd conversation with the third baseman. when on at first, i explain to their first baseman that i've already plowed over another first baseman before. when i'm in the outfield, i yell non-sensical things like "lots of strikes, diggity-dawg" and "hey now! whaddya say now! let's go kids!" and "oneindawell, oneindawell," ["one in the well, one in the well"]. actually, i'm probably annoying, but at least it's in good fun.

in left field tonight, however, i found myself (rather than annoying other), being annoyed. saying under my breath, "let's see a damn strike" as we watched six straight balls and four runs scoring. that was game one, and we escaped. [as a team, we had our most complete performance of the season in game one. other than the walks, the defense, aided by two girl-ringers, was watertight.]

the second game, we got the strikes we needed, and our shortstop botched it. three straight grounders muffed in about the fifth, opening the door for a big [and i'd imagine, decisive] inning. i got to give the rocket [our shortstop] a hard time after his miserable performance and, well, he was a bit upset with me. but it happens, i guess. certainly a winner of a night.

- - - - -

highlight: it's 5:58, and we start at 6. we have five guys and three girls there. we need four and four to play, or five girls to use a full roster. across the complex (20 feet away), there's a team with no apparent opponent. "Hey, PR guy," my teammates yell, "We need some ringers. Go see if they want to play." So I make my pitch: "Hey. We're short a few girls. If anybody wants to play - I see your opponent hasn't shown - we'd like to have you." "Yeah, I can play" X 2. "I'll come back if our fourth doesn't show up."

I walk to our diamond, and we're implored to take the field. I head back to their diamond, and bring in my recruits. [One was great - a tremendous second baseman. The other was mediocre, striking out once.] "That's the first time we've seen you pick up a girl," the rocket accurately intones. I smile, shamed.

- - - -

other highlight: between games, one of our girls has been recruited as a ringer, so we hang out by her diamond to be a personal cheering section. [ridiculous, really, cheering when she made the throw from the plate to the rubber in warmups, and things like that.] at about 745, 15 minutes to our next game, i head to the restroom. i wander by another team, the team whose first baseman i had trampled two weeks ago. "BOOOOOOOOOOO," and loudly. I smile shyly, wave, and head to the restroom. I head towards my table, and i'm getting the evil eye from a team member. I engage in friendly conversation. Then I see Renee, who I had so callously run over. I smile, embarrassed. She takes the lead: "I'm back this week. And, guess what? I'm back at first base!" And we exchange a hug, and her husband laughs, and all is forgiven.

I can't wait til the playoffs. I'll run the bitch over again. [Zing!]

- - - - -

Odd fact of the day: Tim McGarigle, leader of a defense that surrendered 48 points, was named Big Ten Co-Defensive Player of the Week. I don't care how many tackles he had (25, including 3.5 for loss), he can't get that award.

Also, the NU release states: "His 25 stops fell one shy of the official NCAA record (the NCAA began keeping official defensive statistics in 2000), which is ironically co-held by a former NU teammate, Doug Szymul (26 vs. Duke in 2002)."

First of all, it's coincidental, not ironic. Second of all, it's not coincidental at all, because Northwestern always pads it's tackling stats. (See Also: Bentley, Kevin, and Gardner, Barry.)