Ye Olde Boomer
Well-known member
I had the chance to play softball when I retired from British baseball in 2000 but chose to concentrate on golf. I achieved everything I could as a hitter, pitcher and then manager. It was time to hang up the spikes and glove for good.
We had a coed intramural softball league back in college, strictly a fun, beer league thing.
I remember that we had the first artificial turf field in Boston back in the 60s. [Not particularly a fan. Especially of the old, original kind.]
I was catching and we had this pretty but ditzy second base-woman, maybe 19.
The other team's first baseman was batting, a big left-handed hitter, maybe six-three or four.
He hit a rope of a line drive straight to second.
I looked up, and our second base-lady had her head looking down, glove held between her knees, as she was rolling a joint.
The ball grazed the button on top of her cap as it flew by.
We weren't even using the balls that we were supposed to be using.
We were using higher compression balls to feed our egos by hitting them farther.
Our second base girl almost got herself killed.
She did finish rolling the joint in time to take the cutoff throw, however.
That in itself was pretty impressive.
