Kicking My Balls
Trip Start
Apr 01, 1979
1
15
78
Trip End
Ongoing
Washington, District of Columbia
Thursday, October 27, 2005
Anyway, I didn't know what to think. I mean, yes, I knew her, but we had only met two days before, so what could possibly be so important. I didn't hesitate to find out. I likewise picked up my phone and dialed away. Soon, the voice from the message answered. I identified myself, "This is D-Mac, what up yo?" I asked. Her voice got very soft and droned out, "I can't talk here at my desk because I'm in a cubicle. There are always people listening. Give me a moment so that I can go outside and call you on my cell phone where it's safer. Bye!" My jaw dropped. What was going on? Who was this girl and what could she possibly want from me that required such clandestine activities? And worse yet, why couldn't she talk at her cube? I mean, here I am, at my cube, all exposed to the world and prying ears just as well. Should I run away when the phone rings? Should I pretend as if I didn't hear it and just continue pecking away at my keyboard, pretending to do work but really writing stories like this one? Should I pose a litany of rhetorical questions until I'm blue in the face? I chose, at the time, none of the above. When the phone rang, with sweat dripping down my face and with my palms imitating a swamp, I answered. My eyes darted back and forth as words began to stream from the other end. What was she saying... I could almost make it out.
"Would you like to play on my kickball team?" the voice inquired. What? I shot back. "Would you like to play on my kickball team?" she asked again. Um, yeah I guess. "Great! I'll email you the information as soon as I get back to my desk. Glad to have you!" So that's it people. All the hoopla, all the crap, all the anticipation, and it was about playing on a kickball team. I can honestly say that it's a very strange world in which we live. Very strange indeed!
So as for kickball, I'll tell you that my opinion is not the best. You see, if you've been paying attention, you might have noticed that I am a soccer player. And if you've been paying attention to the world of sport, you might have noticed that soccer players are some serious athletes. Now I'm not saying that I'm some kind of big shot superstar athlete, cause I ain't. But in the world of sport, I do okay. And in the world of kickball, I'm practically a demi-god. Yes, friends, kickball is perhaps the most unathletic event that I have ever participated in athletically. And okay, perhaps I should have known better. In truth this is a drinking man's sport, which in and of itself is quite an athletic endeavor (especially if you come drinking with me. While I might not hold my liquor with the best of them, I can certainly make up for it by drowning my low tolerance over and over and over again). So anyway, there I was, thrust into this sport, which I knew very little about, but oh how I soon would learn...
By the season's end, not only had I been named my team's 'Rookie of the Year', I had also been nominated by my squad to the all-star team. And despite our record that put us firmly in the middle of the pack, we managed to finish second in the season-ending tournament... I think largely due to the enthusiasm of our fanatical Jewish coach. This guy is incredibly intense on the field. In truth, he's my kind of guy. Anyway, so even though we finished second, we still made the regional tournament. The first place team declined the invite, and soon this little band of kickball soldiers will be going into the big dance. How exciting! (UPDATE: 11/5/05, We played in the big regional tourney, and finished in 4th place! How bout that! Incidentally, there were only 4 teams in the tournament.)
So yes, the circumstances were weird. Yes, the girl who called freaked me out. Yes, I hate this dreadful sport, which by the way forced me to play in mud and rain for two hours in our marathon tournament. Yes, to a lot of things, but in the end, I just play the game. And of course, I drink a lot too. That helps.
