Wednesday, September 12, 2012

I'll Never Be Mistaken for Sporty Spice.

I've been having an amazingly busy, awesome, frightening summer.  I mentioned in my previous post that I don't do well with strangers.  And so, in a totally logical move, I joined the Beehive Sport and Social Club and played Volleyball with the team Vicious and Delicious.  Or, VD for short.  Cause, you know, saying the entire name is far too taxing.  We had a rough start and soon found ourselves in last place.  But with our rallying cry of "We don't completely suck!  We don't completely suck!" we soon moved our way up the ranks and managed to scrape by with a last minute win to qualify for the semi-finals.

Which we immediately lost.  Shocking.  With moves like these...

It's all about intimidation.  And that girl on the other side of the net.  She was intimidated.

Erin sacrificing the body.  And succeeding!

We're the amazing team on the left.  Falling all over the ground.  While being awesome.  Obvs.

If anything, she's graceful.  Just look at that form.  Perfection!

Yup.  Me cowering.  The normal response when one has balls flying at their face.

Erin massaging my cheeks after I just got face-spiked.  Which was not awesome.


We ended up losing by 2 points to the team who won the championship.  We put up a damn good fight and we're banding together with a couple of new players to take on the fall season league. 

In other not-so-close-to-winning news, I've also joined a coed softball team.  Candito's husband plays on a team that was in desperate need of an extra female player.  And when I say desperate need, I'm not exaggerating in the least.  They won the whole thing last year.  I haven't swung a bat since little league.  I'm not kidding when I say they were desperate.

I agreed and showed up.  I was sent to right field.  I hung out.  It was boring.  It was perfect for me.

The next week, Erik made pizza before I was supposed to head out for the game.  I packed a couple of slices to take with me.  I figured I'd have time to eat them while standing around in right field, watching the game as a spectator. 

Tragically, upon arrival, I was informed I would be the catcher.  I laughed in Mike's face.  He convinced me he was not joking.  Mother hugging effing shit.

Okay.  Cool.  No biggie.  (Except it was)

This isn't just a friendly softball game.  No.  These people play to win.  What's THAT about?
The week before, one of the guys tore his calf muscle.  So he wasn't playing this week.  He was probably last week's catcher.  

We're up to bat.  Keith is up and I'm on deck.  He hits it and takes off towards first base.  I look over just in time to see him collide with first base and do this weird front shoulder roll which looked oddly graceful at the time.  He pops up and he's safe.  I'm up.  Hearts thumping when Mike calls for a time-out and Keith saunters up stating non-nonchalantly, "I think I broke my collarbone".
He pulls his jersey to the side and BAM!

Kay, I actually have no idea who this man is, but poor Keith's shoulder looked something like this.
 Like a mother hugging alien invasion had taken up residence under his skin in the form of a pop-up tent.  It was not okay.

Keith went to the hospital.  

Soon enough it was the other team's turn to bat and I slowly took my place behind home plate.  The umpire was 800 years old and I could feel his hot breath on my neck.

Candice was standing on the other side of the fence providing moral support.  She asked if I was okay.  She said, "Dawn, you alright?  You look scared.".

My response, "I AM scared.  I'm wearing pink nail polish.  I don't belong here!"  She laughed.  I think she thought I was kidding.

I wasn't. 

We lost that game 11-23.












25 comments:

  1. You don't even report scores correctly. Softball is supposed to be a leisure activity that involves drinking and socializing, not collar bone breaking. I bet you can get this team refocused on what is important.

    If you have to play catcher next game, I dare you to show up in full gear - helmet, mask, chest pad (definitely protect the assets), shin guards and even bring a cup and ask the ump what you are supposed to do with it.

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  2. Well at least you got to the semis with the volleyball. That's pretty good. Plus you can't be blamed for the softball if you were the catcher. I don't think someone should take a game so seriously they break their collarbone. Though if he looked cool doing it then it's okay.

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  3. Yeah...

    I don't do sports. I attend my gym, that's about it (and I CHEAT doing so, very often lately...) ~ because I know sports are dangerous (two of my siblings played soccer on a very high level, and both was badly injured).

    I would like to do more sports, but I'm too lazy these days. And antisocial. True story.

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  4. Those are mighty big gun boats you got there.

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  5. First, AAAAAAAHHHHHHH! OW OW OW OW OOCH OWIE OW OW!
    Second, I love that you play for team VD.
    Having recently played indoor volleyball with the company I used to work for, you have more athletic ability than at least one person, me. My only saving grace was being tall so I could hang out by the net and just stick my arms up.

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  6. I like to think I can play sports, but the bottom line is I DGAF about teams. I played on a bowling league many years ago. We were 3 girls and 2 guys. The name: the Not All Dick Society. or the N.A.D.S. Our cheer was "Go N.A.D.S" and we were in last place. I like to think I had a role in that.... Oh and we actually got a trophy. So last place is not so bad. Second place didnt get shit.

    I would love to play golf with you. And maybe Brett.

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  7. "I'm wearing pink nail polish. I don't belong here!"

    There! You have a new rallying cry for the volleyball team!

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  8. Hahahaa, I love your last comment. I really hope Keith is okay. If his should looked anything like that random dude with the hairy chest's collarbone, well, then, I'm sure that he was bawling like a baby on the inside.

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  9. Wow- Whattatamean? Was is supposed to be 23 points to 11 points? I don't get it. But I'll have you know, there is no drinking with softball which leads to injury's. Volleyball? Copious amounts of drinking and almost no injuries.
    Where does one acquire a cup? Can I get that from the second hand sports store? And will they have cleaned the ball sweat from it?

    Mark- We were pretty proud of ourselves! Sort of. The broken collarbone did look pretty damn cool that def counts for something. Somewhere.

    Annika- Clearly, nearly do I. If I could figure out a way to cheat while being lazy, you can bet your ass I'd be all over it like a whore on a line of coke.

    Bama- What the hell is a gun boat?

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  10. Pickleope- I just re-typed your name to spell it correctly and spell check is still telling me I spelled it incorrectly. I really really wish you could play for VD. REALLY!

    Joshua- Indeed. :) I mean. :(

    NicePeace- Clearly NADS is the team name to go with! I wonder if it's too late for VD? I would LOVE to see a pic of this trophy. Make it happen?
    The only time I've played golf was on a one-time date at a driving range and I swung like I was playing softball. So yeah! Lets so golf!!! No. Really.

    Mandy- I think I like it. "I don't belong here!" I just giggled out loud. :)

    Alyx- I'm so glad I'm not a dude and have the estrogen card that allows me to cry when I want. Which includes witnessing others breaking things like collarbones. EW!

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  11. Does that guy have a Goiter? It looks serious.

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  12. Actually yeah. I was trying not to make too big of a deal out of it but I think he would want the team to know of his troubles.

    http://bugswong.smugmug.com/Medical-slides/Thyroid-Endocrine-disease/goiter-big-copy/68257000_tdchB-L.jpg

    Dammit.

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  13. I'll totally golf with the Dawner and MoMo. Golf provides the most awesome bantering. I really love putting it in the hole. MoMo, I bet you love a nice pair of freshly washed balls. We can talk about the way Dawn grips the shaft and advise her on stroke speed.

    Oh, hi Dawn's mom!!

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  14. Gunboats is a reference to the size of someone's feet. XO

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  15. OK, I was fantasizing about eating pizza in the outfield until I saw that guy's collarbone. *Gag!*
    And CONGRATULATIONS on the volleyball tourney. Cowering, falling, pink nail polish or not, you guys did VD proud. :) You did not suck! You did not suck!


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  16. I had a part in breaking a guys collarbone once. Does it count that my car fell on him???

    No I was not sympathetic. I tried. He was just pathetic.

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  17. Wow- For hells sake! I'm going to have to completely change my URL so my Mother can't ever find this blog again. You suck.

    Bama- Really? I have big feet?

    Dawn- There's that optimistic attitude we Dawn's are known for! :)
    We Dawn's? That doesn't sound right at all.

    Pixie- When I first read your comment, by "my car fell on him", I thought you meant you ran him down. Which would have been awesome.
    But not really. O_o

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  18. Oh that is one big goiter. Maybe if he wore a brighter shirt it would be less noticeable.

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  19. Ho-lee Shit. That shoulder looked fucked up for sure.

    I'm jealous of your volleyball playing. I played on a co-ed team called Mr. Bill. When someone missed a shot we all yelled "Oh Noooo! We came in 3rd in our bracket in the city. Go VD's!

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  20. Oh, I miss being able to move my body without something snapping.

    ENJOY YOUR YOUTH AND AGILITY.

    xo

    And oMG, thank you for telling me that wasn't Keith b/c I got the heebie jeebies for two seconds thinking that was THE REAL DEAL.

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  21. Bama- Maybe...except anyone older than 8 do not have cute feet.

    Momo- Totally! Or something with paisley and palm trees?

    BB- I just heard that little high pitched voice in my head when I read your comment. :) Will you please come and coach us? We need some serious help for the fall season.

    Empress- It's already too late, I'm simply in denial. I wake up every morning feeling hurty.
    Isn't that picture gnarly??

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  22. Vapid Vixen- believe me when I say, there were times I seriously thought about running him down with the car. Having it fall on him instead, left me without the need of an alibi.

    Besides he truly was a grease spot.

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  23. That looks really painful. I hope it's alright now. What do you mean you'll never be mistaken for Sporty Spice? That's because you know how to duck when you need to duck. ;)

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