Ok, so I play on a church softball league. Bunch of scrub players. Before our season started, I don’t think I’ve played softball in almost 20 years. Anyhoo, yesterday we had our end of the season softball tournament. 8, supposedly, christian teams all out to have a good time.
Obviously most people can be competitive and competition, on average, is usually pretty good, but lets outline a lovely incident in yesterday’s game. Actually, I’ll need to go back a couple of weeks to set the stage.
Ok, so you’re imagining yourself several weeks in the past, our church has 3 teams, I happen to be on the yellow. Is that relevant to the story? Probably not, but you get the picture. Anyhoo, we’re playing the orange team, a New Life church or something like that, I’m on first base as a runner, batter behind me gets a hit and I run. (I know, principle of the game, so bear with me) Batter hit right towards second, I’m charging at whatever speed I can muster, probably a nice and fast 3 miles an hour, the throw is made to the plate, I hit the plate at the same time as the ball, well the ball is obviously in the hands of the dude on 2nd. Long story short, I try checking up, but not quite fast enough, I hit him. He goes flying and the ball is out of his hands, they call me safe. Dude loses it. He’s yelling, blah, blah, blah…whatever, nothing else happens.
Now, flash forward to yesterday, uhh hello, you have to move forward now or you won’t hear the rest of the story. What happened in the previous game is irrelevent after setting up the incident. So, we’re to yesterday. Joy of joys we make it to the third round to play, guess what color??? If you’ve been paying attention there are only two choices I’ve given so far. Yellow, that’s us, and Orange, the other guys. For those who don’t pay close attention, please pick Orange.
So, we’re towards the end of the game. My friend, alright, I don’t like the guy, he’s a jerk and has a horrible attitude, sorry, digressing a moment there, jerk dude is playing short. I’m on first again. You guessed it, I’m now running to second. This time the batter, who just so happened to be my lovely wife, hits a grounder right to the short stop. He makes the throw to second and beats me. I step around second and start heading off, being very careful to not make contact with the second baseman, er…basewoman. Two weeks later this idiot turns to second base and says, this guy runs people. As a clarification, I’ve ran ONE guy in my whole life, up to this point (you should really keep reading, cuz there will be two in a moment.) and I’m like let it go already. I didn’t even get close to her on second. This was all internal, by the way.
Alright, the very next inning I hit a double, so I get to second. Now I’m eyeing third. (Still part of the game, I might add, I am a quick learner.) Remember, my wife is the next batter, so I’m prepared to wait or go depending on the shot. Well, the jerk in this story (no, it’s not me, really) deliberately steps into my runners lane. He knows its me. I’m like, alright, I see him, whatever. Ball is hit, a beauty, I’m off, see previous statement of my incredible speed burst potential, short stop is still in my lane, ball is nowhere near there, so he is supposed to move, well, he did move. I stepped a bit to my left to go around him and he turns his backside into my path. So, I gave him what he wanted. I dropped my shoulder and planted it solidly in the middle of his back, sending him flying, and continue on to third. I should point out that although that was only my second hit in softball, I do pretend to play ice hockey and can take and give a hit as needed, so I knew what I was doing, but he did ask for it. 
You can imagine what happened next. He’s swearing at me and threatening to kick my arse. Oh whatever. I’m not quite sure how I feel about this. I was really hoping he would try to start something, but I was keeping my mouth shut and trying to do the right thing. Remember it is a church softball league. ?? Technically, per the rules I was able to go through him as he is supposed to get out of my way, unless making a play. (Which as stated above, the ball was between first and second) Was I right? Probably not, I could’ve taken the out by leaving my lane, but he kept throwing me attitude and frankly, I wasn’t about to take it any more from idiots like that. There are enough dillweeds playing hockey that I don’t need to put up with it on a softball diamond.
I guess I feel bad that something like this happened at a church function. We were supposed to be representatives of our respective churches and…even though I didn’t pursue what I wanted to, I don’t feel great about the outcome. My blood still boils by the way, in case you were wondering.
There is a moral here, I’m just not sure I want to take it. A day later, I’m wishing he would’ve thrown down, but also glad that he didn’t. What does that say about me? I wish I knew.
