Well, it wasn't real pleasant for the Albatross out there last night. We managed not to score one whole run in two entire games -- of course, it helped that the games were only 5 innings long apiece, since we keep getting slaughtered.
Aside: I really prefer the term "slaughter rule" to "10-run rule" or, in our case, "15-run rule". It just has a much more dramatic ring to it, don't you think?
We didn't really get off to a good start, I have to say -- despite my best efforts at being All Things to All People, it wasn't really feasible for me to work a full day, run home/change clothes/pack diaper and food bags, pick up Lucy, run up to happy hour for a friend going on a leave from work, and still make it to the game on time. I got to the game OK but then had to make the 200-yard dash from the parking lot to the field, toting:
- Lucy in her stroller
- Lucy's diaper/toy/blanket bag
- Lucy's pack-n-play (for you nonparents, the sucker weighs about 40 lbs, I think)
- my bat bag (which was holding four bats)
- a large brown paper grocery bag containing Lucy's food
- a large brown paper grocery bag containing the waffle fries I hoped to eat for dinner
- my purse
That's a LOT for one three-months-pregnant person to carry, don't you think? I assure you it is. Anyway, I get there pretty much RIGHT at game time. And one of our girls hasn't arrived yet, and the rest of our teammates, bless their hearts, are sort of standing around with lost-puppy-dog looks on their faces. It was like gazing at nine very large, bipodal and significantly less-hairy Hobos. Who could blame them? I've been such a control-freak, they were probably petrified of the unleash of sarcasm they might receive for trying to take charge. I will have to do more to reassure them that will not happen. :)
Somehow we managed to bat, and get out in the field, and thank GOODNESS for the two random "extra girls" who showed up, since Becky injured her quads; we were miraculously able to at least put some warm bodies out there. And I have to say, our defense wasn't dreadful at all -- several nice plays were made. And a few people actually got hits, which unfortunately did not materialize into runs. But after I got home and put a very sleepy Lucy to bed, I cracked into the fresh new Sports Illustrated that had appeared in my mailbox that afternoon, and I was reminded how much I really do love sports. The rush of adrenaline from a sudden sprint, the feeling of fresh outdoor air in your lungs, the highs and the lows -- it really lets you know you're alive.
Anyway, I finally got to talk to Joel (he's been up in Brainerd for three days at a company conference) and Lucy was a doll this morning and we had a great thunderstorm and the world is new. AND it's Friday!
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2 comments:
Uh, hello, pregnant woman, you should NOT be carrying that much stuff and dashing anywhere! Heck, even without the dash you shouldn't be carrying that much--especially the Pack N' Play! You're not one of those never-asks-for-help types, are you?!? Because ya better start asking--9 months preggo with an 18 month old is gonna require a LOT of extra hands so that yours can be idle now and then. :)
Well the problem at the time was, there WASN'T anybody there to help. However, I neglected to mention that help soon arrived in the form of another latecoming player, and I was very grateful. For the rest of the trips across the field (there were a couple) I definitely asked for, and received, assistance. And only one sarcastic comment was required. :)
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