A Writing Experiment: Baseball

Earlier this week I went to a baseball game. With a friend. A male-type friend.

Here’s the thing about me: I am indifferent toward the idea of baseball as a sport. But I very much favor the idea of attending baseball games.

Aforementioned male friend knows quite a bit about baseball, and I know . . . well, not as much. So we talked baseball rules and baseball strategy and baseball history and baseball trivia and baseball statistics and baseball this and baseball that, etc., etc., etc., ad nauseum. Probably less than 10% of what we talked about has been retained in my puny little brain since then. But whatever. My purpose in life is not to remember baseball facts.

At one point I started talking about my shocking realization that probably most of the players are now younger than me (yikes!). In response, the male-type friend started making sure I knew exactly which players actually are (despite the fact that he himself is . . . well, let’s just say, older than me). Once I realized what he was doing, I laughed.

I ventured a suspicion that the bat boy was cute (I couldn’t see his face clearly; only his physique) but guessed that he was probably also still in high school. I speculated how one gets a job such as that. The male-type friend said I ought to go down there (we were just a few feet away from the dugout) and ask the kid for an interview. I said my first question would be how old he was, and if the answer was younger than 23, the interview would promptly end. The male-type friend said that wouldn’t make me a very professional or ethical journalist. I said that was okay because I hate journalism. He said in that case, my first question should be, Can you take off your helmet so I can see if you’re cute. This made me laugh.

I chose favorite players based on their cool names rather than skill. Ka’aihue and Francoeur won this contest. This sparked an ethnicity guessing game, wherein we inadvertently discovered that my default guess for someone with brown skin, a broad-ish nose, and wide-set eyes is Filipino. For some reason this made us laugh.

And then I began a discussion about the uniforms. How well they fit certain players. How the pants looked really good if they were just the right length. (Yeah, but some of them are a bit too long, chimed in the male-type friend as he pointed to an outfielder whose pant legs touched the grass.)

The male-type friend tolerated this conversation longer than an eavesdropper probably would’ve expected. Near the end, when I pointed out a player-at-bat’s saggy-in-the-butt pants, the male-type friend drew the line and spoke up again: I can’t believe I’m actually having this discussion. For some reason him saying that made me laugh and laugh and laugh. But I did not apologize.

I asked really stupid questions about baseball and sports in general. I acted so girly, to the point that it was a little uncharacteristic of me. And the even weirder thing is, I wasn’t even ashamed.

Maybe it was my estrogen staging a protest against prior manly actions – like drinking a beer in the parking lot before the game. Something fruity would’ve been more my style.

I should’ve counted how many times I heard the term walk-off home run during that game. I don’t even know what a walk-off home run is. Wasn’t able to deduce from context. And I haven’t Googled it in the days since. I’m not even Googling it right now. So sue me.

It was a great game, though, and a great evening out. The kind of evening that couldn’t be done justice in 140 characters. I would know. I tried. And then I deleted.

Got a free Sonic Slush the next day by showing my ticket . . . not sure if it was because of home runs or because the Royals won. Either way, free stuff is cool, and I was previously a Sonic Slush virgin.

The male-type friend texted to remind me to hit up a Sonic, and my reply was that I didn’t even know where to find one.

He texted back: I support your lack of patronage. For some reason, this response made me laugh and laugh and laugh.

In light of my retroflection (that’s my smooshing together of reflection and retrospection; I think it’ll catch on) on this particular evening, I suppose it is easy to see why guys prefer other guys when it comes to attending sporting events.



Filed under bloggy, experimental, irreverent, stream of consciousness, writing exercises

9 responses to “A Writing Experiment: Baseball

  1. b longfellow

    walk-off home run = the home team hits a home run to take the lead and thus end the game in their last at bat.

    oh, and home run doesn’t mean it happens at home, it means the ball goes over the fence :D okay, technically that’s not true since there’s such thing as an inside-the-park home run, when the batter rounds the bases and touches home safely (see highlights of ex-Royal Willie Wilson) without the ball leaving the field of play . . . i guess a home run is actually a “quadruple” (as opposed to single, double, or triple), but everyone knows jocks like to keep things to two syllables.

    • Okay, so is a walk-off home run ONLY game ending? I guess that’s what I’m confused about. In this context, what does the term “walk-off” mean?

      And as far as inside-the-park home runs . . . is something like that merely the result of bad fielding? Doesn’t seem all that likely to happen, at least not very often. But then again, it probably happened in my softball days a lot . . . especially those times that I spun and threw blindly farther into the outfield. :)

  2. Reese

    It might help if you thought about it like this:
    It’s called a WALK-OFF home run, because the team (say tied 3-3 in the ninth) hits a home run and get to WALK OFF the field, because the game is over, and they won. There are no more innings. Game over. However, it’s important to note that this can only happen in the ninth inning or beyond. Like, there are no walk-off home runs in the sixth, because there are still 3 innings left in a regular game.
    Also, a walk-off home run can only happen for the home team. However, let’s say the Sox were up 6-5. Then the Royals came up, and someone hit a home run to tie 6-6. That is not a walk-off home run because the game isn’t over yet. BUT if someone on the Royals had hit a home run with a player on base, they would have gone up 7-6. Walk-off. Win! Cheers! Excitement!

    Free Sonic.

    Hope that helps :)

    • b longfellow

      excellent clarifications, Reese. precisely the points I was about to fumblingly attempt to clarify.

    • Reese, you are a beacon of enlightenment. So if I follow the explanation correctly, then a walk-off home run can only be achieved by the home team in any given game. Interesting.

  3. I love reading these posts og you and everyday life. You made the game sound fun. You are like a favorite show. I can hardly wait for the next episode. Or in this case, post. :-D

  4. (sorry for typo. I’m on the treadmill, so what can you expect?) :-P

  5. Pingback: I’m not schizophrenic. I’m “well rounded.” | A Literary Illusion

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