Score: 7-5-7
Location: Patrick Henry Elementary School (Arlington, VA)
There are two sports that are so taxing on the human body that they can only be played at most once a week: professional football and Gil Tyree wiffleball. On Saturday we played Gil Tyree wiffleball. Now it's Monday and all three of us are feeling it mightily in the hamstrings, abs, triceps, ribs, back, etc.
We met up at the same field we used about one year ago but the baseball diamond was muddy so we moved closer to the playground where there was some sort of dodgeballish contraption (see picture below) with 4 slots reading "+1", "-1", "+2", and "-2". We determined that if anyone hit a ball in this contraption in straightaway center it would be worth, respectively, 5x, -5x, 10x, and -10x homers depending on the slot it came out of.
The wind was blowing in from centerfield so it was a pitcher's park and we got some gnarly movement on several popups that landed for singles or fouls but should have been outs. I felt deflated in the 2nd inning after Paul robbed me of a homerun by making an amazing leaping catch while negotiating the wooden playground ledge and dealing with the unpredictable wind currents--though he later admitted that those wind currents actually brought the ball right into his hand.
A-Man (Hunky Newcomer) jumped out to an early lead but I was able to keep him in check by employing a new pitching tactic I've been working on: throwing off the hitter's eye level. After throwing him a 15-ft high fastball on an 0-2 count he never regained his comfort at the plate.
Then Paul got into the zone and cranked a few to give him a commanding 7-5-1 lead. I mounted a comeback in the last inning thanks to a 2-out pitching bobble and then retired Paul later in the inning to end the game at 7-5-7.
We followed the action with Shopper's donuts and a communal quart of whole milk, which Paul chortled down his chin and jacket after I made him laugh.
Game Highlights:
- Paul won 'Best Dressed' with his unrippable running shorts and his "Native American" ball cap.
Olde English Poem:
'Thro cold, dry winters and days dark and grey
'Thro snowfall and rain oh treacherous day
Hark to the battle-cry! Make for the fray!
Onward! Yes onward to wiffle today!
'Tho one thousand martyrs be raised from the dead
'Tho the dragons and visigoths rear up their head
From the mighty batallion it shall ever be said
Onward to wiffle; arise from thy bed!
Press onward dear brother the battle's not o'er
The enemy advances; cries out now for more
From its scabbard unsheath the sword on your shoulder
Onward to wiffle be it mountain or shore!
The oaths of the fathers remembered again
Beauty not captured by psaltery or pen
Awake my brother; on to the end
Onward to wiffle! Rise up ye men!
Game Report and Poem by Pace Barker
