Score: 13-16
Location: Founding Fathers Field (Arlington, VA)
"I have a dream that Monday on the frosty fields of Founding Fathers Memorial Park white balls and black bats will come together for victory in the center field contraption."
-Paul Lambert
In honor of the late, great Dr. Martin Luther King, and also in honor of my younger brother, Desmond, we 4 Gil Tyrees convened on this chilly winter morn to wiffle in the new year.
Once again, fate pitted the private sector fat cats against the bureaucratic big wigs.
We got underway and the chess-like match of wits was immediately in force when, before the first pitch had even been thrown, I threw on some ski goggles which had the double effect of improving my visibility as well as distracting the hitter. 1-2-3 the hitters went down in quick succession, wondering what strategic counter they might make. I guess that their strategic counter was either Paul's bright red Navajo chief ballcap, or when Bluth soon revealed that since our last meeting he had been seeing a sports psychologist to help him visualize his way through potential big spots in the game. Once I learned this I made sure to pitch him inside early to help establish plate position for the later innings.
On our turn to bat we managed a double and some walks and some dinky singles to net 3 runs.
Then I came back on the mound and held them to 1 run, though I could sense that the goggles (borrowed, and 2 sizes too small) were getting too constrictive and I risked having permanent lines on my face.
Our bats started to come to life and we built up a big enough lead that I felt I could get through the rest of the game without the goggles. Goggle-less, I went back out to the mound and they started knocking me around a bit, but not before our defense put a stop to their threat and kept us in the lead heading into the bottom of the 3rd.
During our half of the inning we had a few good hits but also the help of some shoddy defense out in the field. Paul let a squibbler go right through his legs, and Bluth tried to bend over for a grounder but apparently couldn't reach down far enough because of the constriction caused by his jeans. We ran the score up to a 12-5 lead.
We felt pretty confident heading into the 4th; confident enough to bring out my knuckleball against Paul, which was unfortunately served right back over our heads for a 2-run homer. It may have been at this point that Bluth--always quick with an apt 90's hip-hop song--paid tribute to MLK's vision by singing, "Ring ding dong. Ring-a-ding-ding-ding dong" (http://youtu.be/wWJqt0u_TCs?t=1m39s). Then Bluth, emboldened by the psychological boost from his sports shrink, tried to play some mind games on me by holding the bat on his shoulders and standing tall at the plate while I delivered 1-2-3-4 close-call pitches that he took for balls. Thankfully, A-Man and I kept our nerves and were able to get out of the inning clinging to a 3-run lead.
A-Man continued to demonstrate great batspeed, and he and I put up 4 more in the bottom of the 4th but it could have been more had it not been for Bluth's looked-more-difficult-than-it-really-was, over-the-shoulder, one-leg-sliding, massive-divot-creating catch that robbed me of a homerun.
Then, as I attempted to close it out in the 5th inning, I tried to sneak a lefty pitch past Paul but he promptly deposited it into deep right for a 3-run shot. The inning continued and it so happened that Bluth found himself at the plate with 2 outs, bases loaded, and a 3-run deficit. The irony of this being exactly what his sports psychologist had prepared him for I think only served to psych him out even more. He was so nervous and giggly that he couldn't do much of anything for a time. I resolved to pitch one in there the moment he stepped one foot into the batter's box. With his head down and one foot barely in the box, I whizzed one by him that popped against the cone backstop for a quick 0-1 count. Then on the next pitch he rolled over one for a soft grounder to A-Man to abruptly end the game.
Game Highlights:
- My ERA w/ Goggles: 2.50; My ERA w/o Goggles: 20.00
- Because there was an obstructive cone lodged in the Lin Sue Cooney contraption we proposed that any ball that goes into the LSCC and doesn't come out one of the 4 holes would be ruled an automatic out for causing a game delay. Additionally, any runners on base would be wiped off. The ruling passed unanimously.
- The game was followed up with waffles, eggs, bacon, OJ, fruit, and purple potatoes.
- For the first time on record, wifflers took a selfie picture to commemorate the game.
Game Report by Pace Barker
