This year, something happened. Either the softball planets aligned, or we miraculously learned how to play well, or God felt sorry for us,or something. I am not sure what it was, and I don't think I ever will know what it was, but one thing was for sure: we won a lot of games. And we didn't just squeak out our victories, either. We annihilated teams. It didn't matter if we were playing against Lutherans, Catholics, or even Presbyterians, we made all those denominations say "Uncle!!" We cruised through the regular season with just one loss, and got the #1 seed for the playoffs. Things were looking good for me and my softball team.
And then the playoffs started. Our first game was against a team from a big ol' Lutheran church just up the way; a team we had just recently beaten by 19 runs. 19! I was confident, maybe too confident, that we would pound them again. It didn't happen quite that easily, but we did eek out a win by 1 run after falling behind early. Next we played another, smaller, Lutheran church in the second round, and again we fell behind, and had to make a valiant comeback to win by a run in extra innings. Needless to say, we weren't playing our best ball. But we were still winning, by some miracle. Next up was a perennial contender from a Catholic church that we had handled easily in the regular season by 12 runs. I don't think they remembered how we had dominated them earlier, because they came out and mopped the floor with us. It was sad, but we were still alive. We would just have to work our way back through the loser's bracket. We couldn't afford another loss, and if we wanted to win the championship we would have to win three games over good teams. That's how things stood after last week's games.
|My team , the Waite Park Leviathan|
So, being the completely softball-obsessed guy that I am, I spent the last week totally consumed with softball. I thought about game plans. I thought about batting orders. I thought about what snacks to bring so my guys wouldn't get hungry. I was in my own little vacuum, and nothing outside of softball could penetrate my brain. The Boy could have been the first 2-year-old to discover cold fusion, and I wouldn't have noticed. The Girl could have run away and eloped with the 4-year-old from down the block, and I would have told her to have a nice trip. The Baby could have gone from barely rolling over to doing a nice tap dance routine while on my lap, and I would have set her on the floor so I could watch film of our next opponent. Luckily, I don't think any of those things happened. I suppose I better ask the Wife just to be sure.
|Yes, Freddie, we ARE the champions!|