Massacre #547

Another disaster on the softball diamond tonight. We lost, 21-1.

There is nothing good to report about tonight's game.

From the Mouths of Babes

The Mrs. and I are currently enduring the Terrible Twos and the Terrible Threes simultaneously, courtesy of June and Olivia, respectively. Between the girls' age-related behavior, the fatigue associated with both parents working full-time in somewhat stressful occupations, and typical life stressors in general, things can occasionally be on the tense side in our house. And the girls commonly do and say things that send one of us straight over the edge.

But occasionally, they do provide some comic relief, even if it is unintentional.

We'll start with June. June has a bit of a temper. I blame that on the Mrs., since I am just about the most even-keeled, level-headed person you'd ever meet. And since this is my blog, I can blame anything I want on the Mrs. If she punches me tonight when I get home, it just further proves my point.

So, being the calm, collected person that I am, I was serenely cleaning up the kitchen--in between meditations, of course--while the Mrs. was giving the girls their baths. June, in typical fashion, was making the Mrs.'s life a complete hell in the bathroom, pouring cups of water out of the tub and onto the floor, fighting with Olivia over bath toys, splashing the Mrs., and shrieking her favorite phrase while getting her hair washed: "I DON'T WANT!!!" The Mrs. hung in there much longer than I would have been able to--um, I mean, were I not the even-keeled, level-headed person that I am, of course--but she eventually reached her limit of June's bad behavior and pulled her out of the bathtub. World War III ensued, with June bawling and flailing and screaming "I DON'T WANT!!!" as the Mrs. toweled her off. Finally, June belted out her second-favorite phrase: "I'M MAD!!"

The Mrs. responded in kind, "Well, I'm mad, too!"

June (suddenly in her normal voice after 20 minutes of screaming, as if someone flipped a toggle switch): "Why are you mad, Mommy? Are you mad at Olivia?"

The Mrs.: "No, June, I'm mad at you!"

June: "Why are you crying, Mommy?"

The Mrs.: "I'm not crying! I'm YELLING!!"

I had to cover my mouth with the dish towel to avoid laughing out loud and, you know, setting off the Mrs., who has the aforementioned temper issues that she passed along to June.

(That's my story, anyway, and I'm sticking to it.)

Fast forward to yesterday. My sister had a twin-sized bed that she no longer needed, and the Mrs. and I had been discussing moving Olivia up to a twin-sized bed for awhile, so my sister graciously gave us her extra bed for Olivia to use. Transporting the bed from my sister's house to ours, though, required me taking out one of the bucket seats in our minivan, which I had never done before.

Toyota has a really nifty system for folding down the back bench in the Sienna, as well as removing the bucket seats from the second row. However, since I had never had to remove a seat before, I couldn't immediately get the anchor system to release to get the seat out. To make a long story short, Chuck and I spent thirty minutes trying to figure it out, complete with multiple failed attempts, plentiful cursing, profuse sweating, breaks to reassess strategy, busting of knuckles, and Chuck's wife laughing at us. Eventually, we were reduced to the ultimate humiliation of getting out the owner's manual and reading the directions.

About fifteen seconds later, we had the seat out.

Once I got the bed home and into Olivia's room, it was time to put the seat back in the van. I wasn't about to risk the remainder of my manhood by looking at the owner's manual AGAIN, so I was wrestling with the seat, without much success, when Olivia climbed into the van and squatted down next to me, closely examining the situation. After some pondering, and in a very soothing voice, she offered up this little gem.

Olivia: "Daddy? What's wrong with the f*&%ing seat? Is it a piece of s*%t?"

Me (barely able to keep a straight face): "Honey, don't use those words. They're not nice words."

Olivia: "Why?"

Me: "I know Daddy uses those words a lot, but they're not for little girls to use. Okay?"

Olivia: "Okay, Daddy." After a few seconds of pondering, she gave me a pat on the shoulder and, looking at the seat, said, "It'll be alright, Daddy. You'll get it."

Me: "Thanks, Olivia. Oh, and sweetie?"

Olivia: "Yes?"

Me: "Let's not tell Mommy about this."

Another Softball Beatdown

Another night on the softball diamond last night, and another brutal beatdown. This time, it was against the only team we've beaten this season, so we expected to play this team close, and possibly even notch our second win of the year.

Oh, how we were mistaken.

We were the home team, so we took the field first, and we had a rough first inning. You'd have thought our entire team had just finished oiling up a team of body builders just before the game, given our ability to field, handle, and throw the ball. I was no exception. I played second base (finally!), and with a runner on first base, the batter grounded right back to Chuck at the pitcher's mound. Chuck turned around and fired a perfect strike to me at second. One out. I had plenty of time to throw out the batter at first for a double play, but someone apparently sewed some velcro onto the ball and into my glove and then lathered up my throwing hand with Vaseline because I could NOT get that thing out of the webbing. So no double play for us.

We ended up coughing up three or four runs in the top of the first inning, but that's not a disaster in softball.

In fact, our very first batter in the bottom of the first inning launched one over the fence for a home run. Woo hoo! It was a beautiful, towering shot that easily cleared the wall. Just like that, we were on the scoreboard and all fired up again!

And that would be the last run we scored until the bottom of the seventh (last) inning. In the meantime, we gave up 14 more runs.

It was not pretty.

As the game progressed, our players gradually showed less and less interest in being on the field. That, of course, just made things worse. As the pounding worsened, many of our players ceased most or all effort, until most of the game just became a blur of the other team circling the bases while our players jogged or walked to retrieve the ball. It nearly sent me and Chuck over the edge.

In the bottom of the seventh inning, though, our bats came alive. Our shortstop complemented his first-inning home run with an inside-the-park home run to start the seventh. Then our next batter got on base. Then our next one. And then another. And before we knew it, we had 4 or 5 runs on the board. What a great inning!

Except that it was six innings too late and ten runs too few.

My night at second base was pretty uneventful. Aside from the botched double play (and we still got one out on the play, so it wasn't a disaster), I fielded everything cleanly, and my throws went where they were supposed to. My elbow held up just fine, but I only had to gas a throw once, cutting off a throw from right field and firing it to Chuck at home plate. Still, no pain in the elbow before the game, after the game, or today, so I think I'm past my elbow issues for now.

I had a subpar 1-for-3 night at the plate, though. In my first at-bat, I nearly drilled a hole in the pitcher's chest. I absolutely HATE it when I accidentally send a line drive screaming right back at the pitcher, and this one was in a hurry. Fortunately, he had time to take about a half-step to his right and avoid broken ribs or a punctured lung or something. I apologized profusely all the way to first base. He was very good-natured about it (whew!), and it even became a running joke for the rest of the game.

In my second at-bat, trying to launch one OVER the pitcher this time, I popped out. It was a weak hit, and I knew it the instant I made contact. Blech.

In my third at-bat, I didn't get all of the ball, but I got most of it. However, it wound up being a pop-out to the shortstop, which puzzled me. Despite hitting it pretty hard, it didn't feel or sound normal coming off my bat. Recall that I put a dent in my bat a couple weeks ago. When I was musing to Chuck that I felt like the ball should have traveled a lot farther than it did, he mentioned that when he used my bat last week when I was out of town, it felt "off" to him, too. With much sadness, we have concluded that the bat is dead. I really loved that bat. Rest in peace, buddy.

As Chuck pointed out, though, it went down swinging.

He's a comedian, folks.

I'll try it one more time next week to make sure I'm not just imagining things, but it looks like I'll be saving my pennies over the winter to get a new bat for next year.

After the game, as the other team (tastefully) celebrated their victory, one of their players exclaimed, "We're not in last place anymore!" It wasn't directed at us, but it was still a punch in the gut. We just got our asses handed to us by the last place team. And now WE are the last place team. Real nice.

Our last regular season game is next week against the team we lost to by one run about a month ago in the bottom of the last inning when I made a bone-headed (and errant) throw to first base, blowing out my elbow in the process, and allowing a runner on third base to score the winning run uncontested. Normally, I'd say that we should play them tough, but the last two times I've said that, we've gotten destroyed. So I'm pretty resigned to the fact that we'll enter the playoffs in two weeks as the lowest seed, likely getting the "pleasure" of being thoroughly dismantled by the highest seeded team. Good times ahead!

Even with all the frustration surrounding this season, though, I sure love being back out there on the softball field. I'm thrilled to be playing again, and I'll be back for more next season!

Fun in French Lick, Indiana

The Mrs. and I took some time off work before and after the Labor Day weekend to have a little family summer vacation. Several months ago, the Mrs. found a good deal on-line for a night at the Valley of the Springs Resort in French Lick, Indiana, that included admission to the attached Big Splash Adventure.

These are our stories (insert dramatic two-note "Law and Order" sound here).

French Lick is a little over two hours from the Indianapolis metropolitan area, so it was just long enough to feel like we "got away" and short enough that we didn't blow half of our trip on driving. The last part of the trip, in particular, from Bedford to French Lick on US 50 and US 150 is pretty: winding, hilly roads through wooded areas.

Valley of the Springs Resort

If you're relying on Google Maps to find the hotel, they have you looking on the wrong side of the road. The hotel is on your left as you travel south on State Road 56. You're barely out of West Baden Springs and into French Lick when you get to the entrance. The resort could invest a little money into signage, as they only have a small wooden sign at ground level. Thanks to Google Maps and the small sign, we missed it on our first pass and felt lucky to have seen it on our second pass through town. There is a Subway sandwich shop directly across the street from the entrance to the resort. If you reach the train museum, you've gone too far.

That minor irritation aside, we drove up the steep, winding driveway to find the resort and large water park at the top of the hill. There were hardly any cars in the parking lot, but we got there right at check-in time, so we figured it would fill up as the night progressed.

Inside, it's decorated in a nautical theme throughout the lobby. It still smells like new paint and new carpet, so I asked the very friendly desk attendant when the facility opened. She said they opened for business in March of 2009. It's also a non-smoking facility throughout, so that helped to keep it smelling fresh and new. (For those who smoke, you can smoke outside, and there are a number of places to safely dispose of butts without littering.)

At check-in, they fixed all four of us up with wristbands. Now, I'll admit that I don't travel much, but I thought these wristbands were really cool. The bands that the Mrs. and I wore had electronic chips in them, and when we held a band up to the electric eye on our room door, the door unlocked! (I have a cousin who is a hotel manager in California, and if he's reading this, he's probably howling with laughter right now, but this is the first time I've encountered this kind of thing in my limited travels.) Want to eat at the hotel restaurant and charge it to your room? They scan your wristband! Want to buy something in the sundry shop and charge it to your room? They scan your wristband! The wristband was also our pass into the water park, and they were, of course, waterproof. So we never had to carry a hotel key, our wallets, money, or credit cards around. It was very convenient!

In a nutshell, our room was very nice. It had two queen beds in it, and they were comfortable. We had a nice wooded view out of our window. Free wi-fi in the room. TV with about 30 channels. All the usual amenities. I wouldn't describe the rooms as "luxurious," but it was quite comfortable. The resort is very family-oriented, the staff was extremely friendly and helpful, and the whole place was new and clean. We ate dinner at the restaurant in the hotel, and we paid normal prices for a sit-down dinner. I had a huge Cobb salad with a grilled chicken breast on it for $10. The Mrs. had a big cheeseburger and fries, and it was around $8. The kids' meals--around $6 a piece--were enormous. They each got spaghetti, and they got a large bowl of it. Plus they got two sides and a drink with their meals. And while we waited for our food (which took a lot longer than it seemed like it should, since we were one of only two families in the whole place at the time), they provided Olivia and June with crayons and paper.

The sundry/souvenir shop is as expensive as you'd expect from a hotel. We got the girls each a t-shirt for $13 a piece, and you pay the normal $2 for a bottle of pop, but I've been gouged worse at other hotels.

Our package included a free breakfast, but we discovered that the resort seems to offer that free breakfast to all of its guests. It was certainly more than a continental breakfast. It was a buffet, so you helped yourself to whatever you wanted, which included fresh fruit, cold cereal, milk, sausage patties, bacon, sausage links, scrambled eggs, pancakes, cinnamon French toast sticks, Amish bread, juice, coffee, and probably more that I don't remember. And take as many trips up there as you want. I was absolutely stuffed after I was done.

Big Splash Adventure

On the second floor of the resort, you walk directly into Big Splash Adventure Water Park, a 40,000 square foot park with stuff to do for everyone of all ages. Our girls (ages 3 and 2) spent most of their time in the kiddie pool, which was 3 inches deep on one end and gradually increased to 9 inches deep in the "deep" end. There were swings in the middle of it that swung, bounced, and twirled around. There were in-pool fountains to play in, and there was a small bucket overhead that filled up with water and occasionally dumped over, soaking whoever was under it. At the 9-inch end was a small water slide that our girls absolutely LOVED!!

They had enormous water slides, some that you navigate with tubes (single or double, provided free) and some that were body chutes. I did both body chutes. One is blue, and the other is yellow. If you like being enclosed in a completely dark tube while rocketing downward and twisting and turning with absolutely no forewarning whatsoever, try the blue chute. If you prefer enough light to be able to see what bends are coming up, take the yellow chute. Both were fun rides, but I preferred the yellow chute. The Mrs. did one of the slides that require a tube, and she said it felt like she was free-falling in parts. She looked a little shell-shocked when she got back.

In another section, they have much more mellow slides for younger kids. Again, the blue chute is pitch dark, while the yellow chute allows plenty of light inside to see where you're headed. Olivia wanted nothing to do with those slides, but June was more than happy to go down the slides with me over and over and over again. That entire apparatus has a huge bucket at the top that fills with water and then spills over, and there are all devices all over the place that dump or spray water all over you.

Meandering through about half the park is a lazy river where you can float on a tube. I think I recall it being 3'6" deep (the Mrs. remembers it as 2'6", so it's somewhere in that neighborhood), and you periodically get showered with water by various devices as you float through.

There was another pool that we never got in, but it had basketball goals on the sides, a big floating dolphin that kids could climb on, a rope ladder to walk across the water (or fall off of into the water), and it seemed like there was something else in that pool to do that I now can't remember.

There was an adults-only area that was fenced off. It was basically a big sitting pool. We never got in it, so I don't know if the water was heated more than the rest of the park, but there's at least a safe-haven for adults who want to soak without having kids splashing all around them.

The entire facility has a retractable roof, which was open both days we were there, allowing plenty of natural sunlight in. But even if it's cold or rainy outside, they can close the roof and keep the water park going. The water is heated, so it was very comfortable to be in or out of the water.

They also had an outdoor pool. It started at zero depth and gradually increased in depth as you waded in. It had some fountains in it, and some more basketball goals, but the water was pretty cold, so Olivia preferred the indoor activities. June, however, kept the Mrs. occupied in the outdoor pool for quite some time.

There are several lifeguards on duty, and they actually pay attention. Every now and then, we'd hear a whistle chirp as someone's horseplay got to be too much, they'd slow running kids down to a walk, and one of them even (very politely) stopped me and Olivia in the lazy river because I wasn't properly in my tube. They carry flotation devices around their torsos, and while I don't think the water anywhere is more than 4 or 5 feet deep, it was nice to see attentive lifeguards on duty.

For $6, you can purchase a locker wristband that works the same way as your hotel room wristband, allowing you to use one of the many lockers to put your stuff in while you play. It was worth it to us, as we had clothes for four, plus our camera to secure. It's not like there was riff-raff lurking in every corner, and thanks to the hotel wristbands, we didn't have to bring our wallets to the pool, but once you get playing in the water with your kids, your attention is not on your stuff sitting poolside. So it was $6 well-spent, as far as we were concerned.

There were nice, big, clean bathrooms in the water park, and right inside, there were a handful of video games that spit out tickets that could be turned in for some cheap crap. Olivia got herself a plastic princess wand and two little plastic bracelets from her winnings. They also sell candy, pizza, pop, water, sandwiches, and assorted other food there, and they have several changing rooms. They also provide towels for the water park at no cost.

It was a great experience there. The entire time we were there, it never got even remotely crowded, which shocked us, since it was a holiday weekend. But I certainly wasn't complaining, given my loathing of people in herds. There were lots of other kids there, many of whom were our kids' age, so I wasn't overly horrified when our girls tried to single-handedly dismantle the restaurant at dinner, because two tables over, someone else's kids were doing the same thing.

The staff was terrific. We didn't meet a single staff member who was anything but friendly and helpful. The place was clean, the prices were decent, and everything you could want for a family stay was available.

On Saturday afternoon after check-out, we ventured over to the train museum in French Lick, since our girls are big fans of trains. They got to climb on some old trains, and there were options to take one- or two-hour train rides, some of which included a realistic train robbery along the way. While we didn't take the train rides, the girls enjoyed their time with the choo-choo's. They have a small gift shop there, too, that also sells popcorn, drinks, and some candy. If you can avoid it, though, don't park in the parking lot directly in front of the train station. There is angled parking on each side, but only one way in and out, so it's a breeze to get in, but a complete nightmare trying to get out. There is a parking lot across the train tracks from the museum that is a normal sized lot. I'm not sure how you get in there, but I wish we would have.

On our way home, we stopped at the French Lick Winery and got a couple bottles of cherry wine that my sister recommended. Since she was willing to dog-sit for us at a moment's notice, we left one of the bottles on her countertop when we picked up the dog. We've yet to try our own bottle, but we probably will tonight. We were just too exhausted last night when we got home. But the winery looked nice, and they have a restaurant inside. It's probably worth checking out if you're without children, or your kids are older than 3 and 2.

French Lick also has grand hotels and casinos there, but we didn't get to those. The Mrs. and I are interested in heading back down there, though, sometime when we have overnight childcare. I do enjoy video poker! And I'd like to check out that winery in more depth.

We got to French Lick and back on half a tank of gas. So if you're in central Indiana and looking for a fun but relatively inexpensive get-away, keep that area of the state in mind. I highly recommend Valley of the Springs Resort and Big Splash Adventure Water Park.

Mr. Magoo Hangs In There

The close game I was expecting last night on the softball diamond turned into a 17-7 blowout, and we were on the 7 end of it. Rotator Cuff Boy didn't bother to show up, despite calling one of our other players yesterday morning to ask what time the game started, and one of our women was about 15-20 minutes late to the game, with no warning. So we got off to a dismal start.

We had some bright spots throughout the game, but for the most part, about half the team acted like they were demoralized or tired or didn't want to be there or something. Our batting was mostly terrible, and our fielding was no better. Very frustrating, since we should have been able to play a close game with this team.

You're on the edge of your seat wondering how Mr. Magoo did out in right-centerfield, aren't you? I knew you were.

Well, I didn't do all that badly, which was kind of a surprise given how long it's been since I've played out there. I chuckled ruefully to myself in the first inning as the other team sent three consecutive left-handed batters to the plate. I put myself in right-centerfield in an effort to minimize the number of fly balls that I had to judge and the number of throws I'd have to make with a bum elbow, since most batters are right-handed, and most righties pull the ball into left field. But wouldn't you know it, the other team had a whole bunch of left-handed batters, in addition to a couple of righties who routinely hit it out my way. I wound up being about as active as our left fielder last night.

I'm happy to report that I did not have to make any Runs of Shame to the wall to retrieve a fly ball that I misjudged. I made several catches, and my coworker, the left-centerfielder, was good about calling out when I was out of position, so I could adjust before disaster struck.

I wrote yesterday that it was going to work to my advantage that the sun was still up. That absolutely held true. However, the sun worked against me on one play. They hit a routine fly ball to centerfield, which was no problem...until the last second. There are trees lining the road behind home plate, and as the game progressed, the sun started to set behind those trees, casting shade over about half the outfield. The fly ball was just barely on the sunny side of the field, so as I left the shadows and moved under the ball, I suddenly got a direct view of the sun. I'm not entirely sure what happened next, since I was completely blinded, but the ball hit my glove and came out.

Fortunately, my face was there to stop it.

Since I could see nothing but white light, I had no idea where the ball was for the last ten feet or so of its flight. I was relying on luck that the ball might come down where I thought it would, and counting on my sense of touch to know when to close my glove. I was lucky...but too slow. The next thing I knew, I was on my butt, my sunglasses were all cockeyed on my face, and the ball was on the ground a few feet away. I scrambled for the ball and threw to the blurry blob that I think was our shortstop. I sat there in frustration for a few seconds and then became aware that a lot of people were asking me if I was okay. Apparently, it looked a lot worse than it really was. Chuck said that from his vantage point on the pitcher's mound, he thought I took the shot directly to my face. But the ball actually hit my glove first, thus losing a lot of momentum, and then my sunglasses absorbed a lot of the impact (and amazingly, they didn't break!). I didn't even realize that the ball had hit my skin. My main concern was that I could see nothing but white out of my left eye after staring directly into the sun.

I got up and returned to my spot in the outfield, but I didn't have any time to think about how I was going to compensate for having vision in only one eye. The very next pitch that Chuck threw was launched right back at me. It was short, so I had to run up on it. I wound up sliding under it and catching it cleanly. I'm really not sure how.

I came back to the dugout at the end of the inning to find a lot of people interested in my face. I still didn't feel any pain, but the Mrs. said it was red and starting to swell just under my left eye. A couple teammates predicted a shiner in my future. I was more concerned about still seeing a big white blob out of my left eye, and I had to bat.

Even after the game, when the adrenaline subsided, I never felt pain in my face. By the time I got out of the shower at home, there was no swelling or redness, and absolutely no pain. This morning, same deal.

As far as batting went, I had my typical 2-for-3 night. I hit a line drive so hard that I put a dent in my bat. It'll go in the books as a triple, thanks to very loose scoring in rec league softball, but it was probably really only a double. Chuck was on first base when I hit it, and I could hear their fielders shouting instructions to each other while the ball was in play, and I knew they were more concerned about getting Chuck out than they were about me. So while they tried unsuccessfully to keep him from scoring, I made it to third base easily. I'm bummed about my bat, though. I love that bat, and so does about half of our team and several players on the Mrs.'s team. I undercut the ball in my second at-bat and popped up to the second baseman, but my third at-bat was another solid shot into the outfield for a single, despite the white blob in my left eye.

So altogether, not a bad night for me individually, but a rough night for the team. It was real darn close to being a REALLY bad night for Olivia, though. One of our batters hit a towering foul ball that went into the grassy area where Olivia was running around. Olivia has not yet learned what it means when everyone screams "HEADS!!!" As she was running, the ball dropped less than six inches in front of her. She was startled by its arrival for about a nanosecond, but then kept on running around. Whew!

Two-for-three at the plate, including an RBI "triple", a run scored, no major gaffes out in right-centerfield, some decent catches out there, no significant injuries, and my daughter didn't get her skull caved in by a foul ball. I can live with that. Oh, and the elbow held up pretty well. On a couple of my throws to the infield that had to travel some distance, I got a little shot of pain as I released the ball, but for the most part, it wasn't bad. And I was pleasantly surprised to awaken this morning with absolutely no soreness in my elbow.

I'll miss next week's game, so Chuck will wear the coach's hat, and I won't have any softball stories to share. The game will be against the team that massacred us in the first week, though, so there probably wouldn't have been any stories to share, anyway.

And Starting In the Outfield: Mr. Magoo!

Tonight's softball game ought to be real interesting. One of our male players is out of town for work, and he's normally one of our outfielders. I don't have a guy to replace him in the outfield tonight.

Except for me. Mr. Magoo.

I used to play a lot of outfield in my younger days until my depth perception started to fail me. Now that I'm older, I can see the ball in the air, but it just looks like a stationary white dot to me. I don't have any clue as to what trajectory it's taking. I hate the feeling of thinking that I'm right under the ball, only to discover at the last second that's it's headed about ten feet over my head. Then I hear all my teammates say "OHHHHHH!!" in frustration, and I have to make the Run of Shame all the way to the fence to get the ball. Inevitably, by the time I turn to throw the ball in, the batter has already rounded third and is a half-dozen steps away from home plate. It always seems to happen with runners on base, too, so what should have been a routine out turns into two or three runs for the other team. And when the inning is finally over, and I sulk into the dugout, I'm not sure which is worse: my teammates telling me that it's "okay" (when I know it's not), or dead silence from everyone.

Years ago, I moved to the infield. At the time, I was nervous about taking a ball in the teeth or the man-jewels because I wasn't used to dealing with the speed of the ball in the infield, so I wore a mouthpiece and an athletic cup, much to the amusement of my teammates at the time. As it turns out, though, when I have very little time to react to a line drive, I can field it just fine. And grounders are easy for me to track, as opposed to fly balls. The mouthpiece quickly went to the wayside, although I still wear a cup. I've been an infielder ever since.

Tonight, however, I don't have a choice. We use three males on the infield. Chuck is our pitcher, so there's one male. I have pitched in the past, but I'm not very good at it at all. If the other team isn't gracious enough to swing at pretty much everything, it quickly turns into a walk-fest. Chuck is good at pitching. So is our left fielder, who is our #2 pitcher. And our #3 pitcher is the guy who's out of town tonight. So I'm fourth string, at best. And in what I expect to be a close game tonight, why would I start a fourth-stringer when our starter is available? Not gonna do it.

Second base is really my position of choice, with or without a wounded elbow. But the guy who is playing second base tonight apparently has a torn rotator cuff, so he wants to keep his throwing to a minimum. Why he's still playing with a torn rotator cuff is beyond me (what kind of drooling moron continues playing rec league softball, even after injuring himself?!), but he paid his money, so I have to put him somewhere.

That leaves shortstop. My last tour at shortstop was disastrous. I lost the game for the team two weeks ago. Last week, I put our youngest, quickest guy there (and it helps that shortstop is his favorite position to play), and he made all kinds of plays that I never would have made there. And even if I didn't have him at shortstop tonight, just the thought of making a dozen or more throws to first base from shortstop makes my elbow hurt.

The rest of the infield positions are occupied by women. So that leaves the outfield.

Softball uses four outfielders, instead of three as in baseball. Left field is usually the busiest outfield spot, since most batters are right-handed, and most right-handed batters pull the ball into left field. So I'm going to play right-centerfield. With any luck, not much will come my way, saving me from too many Runs of Shame and/or too many throws to the infield. Our left-centerfielder is a woman who works in my office, so I told her yesterday afternoon that I'm going to need her help on any fly balls coming my way. If she can yell "BACK!" or "UP!" or "LEFT!" or "RIGHT!", that would help a lot. She said she'll be happy to tell me where to go, and what to do with the ball. She said it with a little grin on her face, which I thought was odd. I think there may have been some sort of hidden meaning there.

I will have the advantage of a 6:15pm game time. The sun will still be up. This is significant because as the sunlight fades, my vision gets worse. I find the park lights to be incredibly distracting, and losing a fly ball in the lights just compounds the problem. Lots of sunlight and no park lights will work to my benefit, so at least I'll have that going for me.

I'm not telling Chuck about it before the game because he'll spend all afternoon trying to talk me into taking his pitcher spot, just to be nice, when he and I both know that's not the right move. I'm just going to wait until we take the field to start the game and enjoy that look on his face when he says, "What the.........?!" as Mr. Magoo jogs toward right-centerfield.

A Potpourri of Stuff

As someone kindly pointed out a few minutes ago, it's been 11 days since I posted last. Time really got away from me for awhile! Let's see what's been going on.

Nearly two weeks ago, I injured my elbow in a softball game. Naturally, I didn't see a doctor about it (that's just crazy talk!), nor did I stay at a Holiday Inn Express last night, but according to the Mrs.'s on-line research, it sounds like I hyperextended it. So ice, compression, and Advil have been my friends for the past couple of weeks. Except for one night, when I must have pushed the envelope a bit on the recommended dosage of Advil and found myself emptying the contents of my stomach in the bathroom at 2:00am. More ice and less Advil after that. I haven't done much in the way of physical activity involving that elbow, although I did throw a frisbee for a little while over this past weekend. I was sore the next day, but not too bad.

Because of my elbow issues, and because we had a double-header last week, I didn't play in the field in either game. We had enough people there that I could bat, but I wasn't about to try to throw a softball, especially for two games. In the first game, we were annihilated, 18-3, by a far superior team. Thank goodness for the mercy rule. In my one at-bat--yes, just one--I hit a deep fly ball that was, unfortunately, caught by one of their outfielders. As for the elbow, yes, it hurt. And yes, there was much ice, Advil, compression, and cursing the next day.

In the second game, we finally notched our first victory of the season, 10-5. Granted, the other team was one player short, and about half of their roster looked to be my parents' age or older, but IT WAS A WIN, DAMMIT!! I went 2-for-3 at the plate with two singles. Our team is now 1-3-1 on the year.

In other news, I spent around $400 on a new windshield for our seemingly cursed Toyota Sienna that we just bought this spring. Recall from a previous post that we have already put $700 into the coolant system after running over some road debris. Well, this time I was toodling down the highway, minding my own business, when a rock came out of nowhere and flew into the windshield. I called a glass place, and they came out to my office and filled the hole and two little cracks that were already appearing. They said it was a pretty big chip, and they weren't sure if a repair job would solve the problem. They finished at 4:00pm. By 6:00pm, it was cracked again. So a few days and $400 later, the glass guys came back out and replaced the windshield. $1100 in repairs before the damn thing had its first oil change. As I pulled into the oil change place, I half-expected a water buffalo to come out of nowhere and plow into the side of the van, or three of the tires to spontaneously explode, or a 100-lb. bird to have a heart attack and fall 6000 feet into my roof at 125 mph. But I got the oil changed without incident, and now hopefully this jinx is broken. I still love the van, but man, it has sure had some bad ju-ju so far.

Work's been an endless whirlwind lately. I've spent a lot of time on a probationer that I tried to transfer to Illinois. The transfer didn't go to my favorite Illinois probation officer (although it looked like it was coming her way in the beginning), but rather to the complete opposite side of that state. Long story short, the probationer was far from truthful about the living arrangements there, the Illinois PO was quick to catch it, there was fantastic communication back and forth for about four days while things got sorted out, and it all worked out in the end. It was just very time-consuming, and a wee bit on the urgent side. You see, the person is on probation for Arson. And there are some mental health issues. Yeah. Not exactly who you want running around without supervision, is it? But have no fear. The probationer is in jail, and another Illinois PO did a terrific job.

I helped my parents move from the country into the city two weekends ago, and I like their new place. They seem to like it, too. They have high-speed internet and a wireless network in their house now, something that wasn't possible in their old place. Mom apparently spent an evening recently discovering the bliss of being on the Internet, pulling up websites in 3 seconds rather than 23 minutes, while sitting on the couch connected to absolutely nothing. My sister took their remaining horse to her place, and it's soon to be someone else's responsibility to keep up with the 30 acres of property out in the country from which they just moved. My folks don't even have to mow their own yard now. Life is good. I'm thinking about trapping a raccoon or something, though, and setting it loose in their garage, just so they don't get soft. Maybe a skunk. Or a badger. Bring a little taste of country living to them in the city. I'm a thoughtful son like that.

The kids are fine. Olivia continues to do her best to drive us to an early grave with her sass and attitude. June is growing like a weed, and her vocabulary is exploding. She fell in the driveway today and took a good-sized chunk out of her big toe, as well as a couple layers of skin off her knee. I was still at work, but Chuck and his wife were visiting at the time, and Chuck says June only cried for a minute or two. Then she sat down and started picking at her toe, apparently curious about all the red stuff coming out of it. The Mrs. took her inside, washed out her toe, pour hydrogen peroxide in it, spread some antibiotic ointment on it, and wrapped it up with a Band-Aid. She reports that June didn't even flinch throughout the whole process. She is one tough little kid! This isn't the first time she has shown her high tolerance for pain. A few months ago, she went elbow first into the concrete and had a pretty impressive wound that needed treatment. We cringed as we poured the hydrogen peroxide on her arm, expecting her to absolutely come unglued when it made contact with her raw meat. Instead, she was fascinated by the bubbles. She may have a future as a professional fighter. Olivia, not so much. That kid could fall on a stack of pillows, and she'd come up acting like she had three compound fractures and a severed artery. Maybe acting will be her career choice.

The Mrs. just had a birthday. I think she had a good day. It wasn't the Worst Birthday Ever, thank goodness. That was a few years ago, but that's a story for another day when I don't have to get up for work in less than five hours. Her mom's birthday was a couple days before hers, so we all got together at my in-laws' house over this past weekend. It was another great trip. The weather was unbelievably awesome, we got to swim in their pool, we had lots of outstanding food as usual, and it was a fun time.

That's about all that's been happening around here that's worth mentioning. Maybe I'll have something more entertaining to discuss after our softball game Wednesday night.