So I’m chatting with Zarigar yesterday and was whining that even after sending Tir’s son home, I still don’t seem to have time to play WoW. What the hell happened?
My company has a co-ed softball team. They are sponsored and have pretty matching jerseys.
We also have a secondary co-ed softball team. Not sponsored. No pretty jerseys.
Both are in the rec league. (That’s the bottom, they don’t even rate a letter.)
A friend of mine at work (Dark/Soth for those of you that might have been reading that long) is on the second team. He had to manage it one night while the normal manager was out and he was short players.
So he calls up Tir and asks if he would like to sub. Would he ever!
We trundle down to the field and much fun was had by all. Except me because Tir’s son was still with us and was dead set on trying to run out on to the field after daddy. Or just off in some random direction (usually after a pretty girl). Or climbing to the top of the bleachers.
A few days pass and it’s mentioned that there is a fall season. Oh, and a couple will be stepping out. Would we like to be team members?
I’m sure it falls under insanity, but I agreed.
So off to the sporting good store to purchase bat, gloves, balls, and clothes that can actually be worn to play sports. I even got a pair of shoes that don’t have a heel on them.
And then off to the park to brush up on my softball skills.
Except, I never had any softball skills for there to be any brushing. Apparently I called in sick the day all the other kids learned how to throw a ball. The description of my early attempts included references to shot putting and mental handicaps.
Tir was called in to sub again this past Monday.
Now Tir actually knows which end of the bat to hold and how to throw a ball. He also knows how to commit to catching a pop fly, even if it means grinding several inches of skin off his leg in the process.
So I’ve been playing nurse in real life as his leg heals. Even outside of the game I can’t get away from healing.
Zar summed it up perfectly, ” hahahaha you are his pocket healer to get into the softball raid.”
On top of not being able to catch and throw, I’m in pretty poor shape. Oh, my silhouette is just fine. But having a good shape and being in good shape are not the same thing; as evidenced by the fact that I get winded after scrambling after the ball for about 10 minutes. If I was better at catching I wouldn’t have to move so much. Tir’s doing better than I am, but he went through basic training. Twice. He has been in far better shape much more recently then I have ever been.
But it’s all good. I’ve had this expensive clothes rack emblazoned with the word “BOWFLEX” just gathering dust in the house. Time to put that puppy to good use! So now we get up early and Tir puts me through hell before I start my work day. Work kicks my ass some more. Then I collapse and go to bed early.
I am showing up to raid (sort of – more on that next time) so it’s not all pain and misery. But who knew that a momentary bout of stupidity could be such a time sink?