Thursday, July 14, 2005

If I Were Her This Would Already Be On The Internet

Lost in my tales of marital bliss was one of the most gloriously stupid things I have ever done on an athletic field. As you can imagine that list is long and distinguished. It includes tripping and falling THREE times while running the mile in junior high. What was I tripping over? The world may never know. This list also includes a stunning turn playing first base where I kept trying to catch the ball with the wrong hand--you know, the one without the glove. Am BRILLIANT.
This was not as embarrassing as those things, as very few people noticed, possibly no one accept the other person involved.

The person I felt up while on the basepaths.

I freely acknowledge that I am possibly the worst baserunner the game has ever seen. I am slower than an ice burg, more likely to trip than even Clumsy Smurf and it is not like I am the most agile of girls either. I do not know how to slide, which somehow was never a problem in all of the years I have played on this team but has been a problem in nearly every game this year.

I was on second base the other night, a little tired because damn I was on the bases A LOT that game. And some one hit a blooper into left field. I went gunning to third--which is all relative so I am sure the fielders thought I was just strolling--and they throw it to their third baseman. Who is a very nice, friendly young women who is about to be molested for reasons that are still not clear.

She makes the force and sees me coming and normally to avoid a collision the runner should slide, but I CAN'T SLIDE AND MY HUSBAND CANNOT OR WILL NOT TEACH ME. So I run into her, not hard mind you because A) I do not run that hard--see above and B) I was trying to slow down. Problem is that for some reason I still do not know and could not explain for all of the chocolate ice cream in the world I had my arm stretched out.

And I totally grabbed her boob.

I do not know why. Why would I do such a thing? I mean, she was a nice looking girl but I manage to resist grabbing other boobs all day long so that cannot be it. I do not know why perhaps it is the revenge of the Softball Gods as they are getting revenge for me insulting their game by continuing to play despite overwhelming evidence that I shouldn't.
Of course I apologized. Over and over. I felt so bad I mean the girl must have thought I was a maniac.

As soon as we get into the car I turn to J and say, "I need to blog that."


"Shit, if she has a blog she is totally blogging that."

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