Here are a selection of pictures that ended up on my camera during the season (mostly in the last two games). Anyone else have photographic evidence to share?
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
The Slow, Wobbly, Mostly Continuous Descent of the OW Empire
Turn on your ceiling fan, cue the Doors, and strip down to your skivvies in a hotel in Saigon...this is the end. Despite our best efforts, the Oscar Wildes lost to the Gates Foundation Holy Cow team on Monday, and thusly ended our inaugural season. But we didn't go down without a fight.
In fact, we were winning the fight for most of the bout. Zach started off most innings with a strike, our bats were swinging and making contact, our baserunning was smart but not without risk...we were up 5-0 for a while there! Against the best team in the league, too, and without such key luminaries such as Bill, Jesse, Danny, Scott, Keith, and Kevin, who had, among other commitments, previously scheduled dates with the seductive Red Sox and rugged Idaho wilderness. Though not at the same time, as sexy as that might sound.
We spent a lot of time in the dirt in this one, I'm proud to say, and mostly it did us good. Jared, Crystal, and Coach all threw themselves down for the cause, and Mike impressed everyone with a sternum-first dive into third (which, even though he made it, sadly turned out to be a part of the larger death-rattle that was the 7th inning). Knees were skinned, good-natured insults were thrown out, and the word "hustle" was tossed around even more than usual--minus the beers, it was the spittin' image of my days in Little League (right down to losing in the playoffs).
Post-loss, we had a nice pow-wow at Targy's followed by some pool and jukebox action. Apparently, the Universe didn't think that we had lost quite enough yet, though, and my pool team suffered four losses in a row (though if Oscar Wildes lose to other Oscar Wildes, does that count?). Weirdly, I was the only constant in that equation, as I recruited a new partner each time...but that can't possibly have anything to do with it. Cecilia did pocket an amazing corner shot with the eight ball when we had just come from behind, and we thought we had triumphed--only to watch in horror as the cue ball decided to scratch and ruin everything. It just wasn't our night.
Our knight, of course, would be this guy, to whom many Oscar Wildes paid their respects at the midnight showing last Thursday night (yes, after that horrendous loss) at the Cinerama:
Despite our only "W" being a forfeit and the closest thing to an earned victory being a tie, it's been a really great season. 826 volunteers have gotten to know one another better, we've spread the 826 gospel all over Queen Anne in a thick, creamy layer, and best of all, we got to get outside, get dirty, drink some beer and play some ball in the Seattle sunshine (and that one thunderstorm). Thanks to all you Oscar Wildes for your excellent, greensleeved antics...I'll see you in the weight room. Or, barring that kind of off-season dedication, in Greenwood.
In fact, we were winning the fight for most of the bout. Zach started off most innings with a strike, our bats were swinging and making contact, our baserunning was smart but not without risk...we were up 5-0 for a while there! Against the best team in the league, too, and without such key luminaries such as Bill, Jesse, Danny, Scott, Keith, and Kevin, who had, among other commitments, previously scheduled dates with the seductive Red Sox and rugged Idaho wilderness. Though not at the same time, as sexy as that might sound.
We spent a lot of time in the dirt in this one, I'm proud to say, and mostly it did us good. Jared, Crystal, and Coach all threw themselves down for the cause, and Mike impressed everyone with a sternum-first dive into third (which, even though he made it, sadly turned out to be a part of the larger death-rattle that was the 7th inning). Knees were skinned, good-natured insults were thrown out, and the word "hustle" was tossed around even more than usual--minus the beers, it was the spittin' image of my days in Little League (right down to losing in the playoffs).
Post-loss, we had a nice pow-wow at Targy's followed by some pool and jukebox action. Apparently, the Universe didn't think that we had lost quite enough yet, though, and my pool team suffered four losses in a row (though if Oscar Wildes lose to other Oscar Wildes, does that count?). Weirdly, I was the only constant in that equation, as I recruited a new partner each time...but that can't possibly have anything to do with it. Cecilia did pocket an amazing corner shot with the eight ball when we had just come from behind, and we thought we had triumphed--only to watch in horror as the cue ball decided to scratch and ruin everything. It just wasn't our night.
Our knight, of course, would be this guy, to whom many Oscar Wildes paid their respects at the midnight showing last Thursday night (yes, after that horrendous loss) at the Cinerama:
Despite our only "W" being a forfeit and the closest thing to an earned victory being a tie, it's been a really great season. 826 volunteers have gotten to know one another better, we've spread the 826 gospel all over Queen Anne in a thick, creamy layer, and best of all, we got to get outside, get dirty, drink some beer and play some ball in the Seattle sunshine (and that one thunderstorm). Thanks to all you Oscar Wildes for your excellent, greensleeved antics...I'll see you in the weight room. Or, barring that kind of off-season dedication, in Greenwood.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
The Fake Playoffs: A Recap
The Oscar Wildes meant business last night; the drink cooler was spiked with Powerade. And business it was for the first six innings. Danny started us off with a home run*. We had back-to-back 1-2-3 innings. We let them load the bases but escaped without giving up a run. Zach made a spectacular catch with a jump reminiscent of the second most famous person in the world with the initials MJ. Heading into the final inning we were actually up by a run. Strictly business. And then the top of the seventh came and it was Casual Friday. Casual Friday on the day before a holiday when everyone is out of the office by noon.
It was the most heartbreaking non-win of the season. But like our olde friende Oscar Wilde says, "The heart was made to be broken." Or was it the arm? Jen gets the MVQ award for the game (Most Valuable Quoter, if you were wondering, which you might have been). Selecting appropriate witticisms out of a sizeable volume of gems spoken by our favorite 19th century Irish writer to coincide with plays made in a rec league softball game is not as easy as it sounds. To quote our quoter sometime around the bottom of the 4th, "What is this? Oh, it's from The Importance of Being Earnest."
No worries, however. We haven't been eliminated as apparently the playoffs have yet to begin. And, despite the recent loss, the Oscar Wildes still retain their title of Best Team Named After a 19th Century Irish Writer while adding a new one --Worst Team in the Queen Anne League! Now it’s official.
And speaking of officials, what was with that strike zone? And now that we're going off on a tangent . . . Note to self/others: Appropriate places to commiserate after a tough loss on the field-- pub, dive bar, pizza joint. Appropriate places to hold your bachelorette party if you plan on wearing a veil and satin sash with "Sexy Bride" embroidered in baby blue-- fake Mexican restaurant, male "dance" club, piano bar.
You don't need a Venn diagram to figure out that there's no overlap and that's the way it should stay. While a co-ed softball team and a group of co-eds sound similar, in reality they are as distinct as dusty baseball t-shirts and spaghetti strap dresses and drinking venues should be chosen accordingly. Crystal said that the pianoing would not start until 9pm. This was not true. Shortly after 8pm the pianists began taking requests.
Fortunately, though, the OWs took advantage of the situation, each in their own way. Vanessa found potential tutors from the slim pickings of the early evening Chopstix crowd. Whether it's chatting up batters from behind the plate or consoling middle-aged women inappropriately groped by their daughter-in-law's gay best friend, she is always able to steer the conversation towards volunteering for 826.
And, be that as it may, in conclusion, as it were, to sum it up--just as someone who wasn't Oscar Wilde said, "It ain't over 'til the fat lady sings." Or until the skinny man calls you up to the piano to sing you a birthday song (to the tune of John Lennon's "Imagine") about you and your girlfriends surrounding him in a hot tub. Then it's all over. But the OWs have one more shot at glory, one more chance to snag that elusive W, one more game to keep the dream alive.
------------------
*Unfortunately, I am again unable to describe in detail his amazing hit. While I was actually at the field this time, I was scrambling to tie my cleats since I was on deck less than a minute after arriving. The whole thing sounded quite impressive, though.
It was the most heartbreaking non-win of the season. But like our olde friende Oscar Wilde says, "The heart was made to be broken." Or was it the arm? Jen gets the MVQ award for the game (Most Valuable Quoter, if you were wondering, which you might have been). Selecting appropriate witticisms out of a sizeable volume of gems spoken by our favorite 19th century Irish writer to coincide with plays made in a rec league softball game is not as easy as it sounds. To quote our quoter sometime around the bottom of the 4th, "What is this? Oh, it's from The Importance of Being Earnest."
No worries, however. We haven't been eliminated as apparently the playoffs have yet to begin. And, despite the recent loss, the Oscar Wildes still retain their title of Best Team Named After a 19th Century Irish Writer while adding a new one --Worst Team in the Queen Anne League! Now it’s official.
And speaking of officials, what was with that strike zone? And now that we're going off on a tangent . . . Note to self/others: Appropriate places to commiserate after a tough loss on the field-- pub, dive bar, pizza joint. Appropriate places to hold your bachelorette party if you plan on wearing a veil and satin sash with "Sexy Bride" embroidered in baby blue-- fake Mexican restaurant, male "dance" club, piano bar.
You don't need a Venn diagram to figure out that there's no overlap and that's the way it should stay. While a co-ed softball team and a group of co-eds sound similar, in reality they are as distinct as dusty baseball t-shirts and spaghetti strap dresses and drinking venues should be chosen accordingly. Crystal said that the pianoing would not start until 9pm. This was not true. Shortly after 8pm the pianists began taking requests.
Fortunately, though, the OWs took advantage of the situation, each in their own way. Vanessa found potential tutors from the slim pickings of the early evening Chopstix crowd. Whether it's chatting up batters from behind the plate or consoling middle-aged women inappropriately groped by their daughter-in-law's gay best friend, she is always able to steer the conversation towards volunteering for 826.
And, be that as it may, in conclusion, as it were, to sum it up--just as someone who wasn't Oscar Wilde said, "It ain't over 'til the fat lady sings." Or until the skinny man calls you up to the piano to sing you a birthday song (to the tune of John Lennon's "Imagine") about you and your girlfriends surrounding him in a hot tub. Then it's all over. But the OWs have one more shot at glory, one more chance to snag that elusive W, one more game to keep the dream alive.
------------------
*Unfortunately, I am again unable to describe in detail his amazing hit. While I was actually at the field this time, I was scrambling to tie my cleats since I was on deck less than a minute after arriving. The whole thing sounded quite impressive, though.
Thursday, July 10, 2008
A Dramatic Night for the O. Wildes
We start off with a no-hitter first inning, followed by scoring MULTIPLE runs (!). In inning number two, we (roughly) replicate the first inning. We feel pretty good. Then, some errors are made, but still, we feel good. The sun is out, we're playing ball, kids are horsing around on the bleachers...it doesn't get better than this right?
Right. Indeed, it gets worse.
In what might have been (in another, more benignly smiling universe) a stunning triple play, pitcher Zach saved his face from being bashed in by a line drive, which he then chucked to Bill at first base just in time to pick off the surprised baserunner who hadn't tagged up. Bill, in his infinite optimism, tried to turn a triple by gunning it to Jen at home, just as the other team's pitcher came barreling at her full thrust from third.
This, friends, is where the biscuit began to unroll, if I may adapt one of Jesse's terms.
"Gunned," indeed. Jen could have benefitted from kevlar jersey sleeves today. With a bad, bad stroke of luck, Bill's magnificent fastball came to a rest only after ricocheting off Jen's left forearm...BREAKING A BONE.
Yes. A bone. Broken. We would have carried her off the field directly into an ambulance, had there been one waiting. But what did Jen do? She played the rest of the inning in right field (as well as in agony) and only left for the hospital after we finally retired the side. I challenge you to present me with a major league catcher who has done the same. Three cheers for Jen, the bravest Wilde of them all!
Needless to say, this shook us up. Jen's injury, the fact that we then only had enough girls to play two outfielders, and the weird feel of the foreign Woodland Park field--with its bat humidor and roofed dugout and well-groomed infield--all added up for a stinging 7-6 defeat. Or, it might have been a stinging 6-5 defeat, no one is sure.
Other ups, downs, and notables from tonight:
*Speaking of Mustache-a-Thon...I hope you're readying your upper lip for September.
**Next Thursday, that is.
Right. Indeed, it gets worse.
In what might have been (in another, more benignly smiling universe) a stunning triple play, pitcher Zach saved his face from being bashed in by a line drive, which he then chucked to Bill at first base just in time to pick off the surprised baserunner who hadn't tagged up. Bill, in his infinite optimism, tried to turn a triple by gunning it to Jen at home, just as the other team's pitcher came barreling at her full thrust from third.
This, friends, is where the biscuit began to unroll, if I may adapt one of Jesse's terms.
"Gunned," indeed. Jen could have benefitted from kevlar jersey sleeves today. With a bad, bad stroke of luck, Bill's magnificent fastball came to a rest only after ricocheting off Jen's left forearm...BREAKING A BONE.
Yes. A bone. Broken. We would have carried her off the field directly into an ambulance, had there been one waiting. But what did Jen do? She played the rest of the inning in right field (as well as in agony) and only left for the hospital after we finally retired the side. I challenge you to present me with a major league catcher who has done the same. Three cheers for Jen, the bravest Wilde of them all!
Needless to say, this shook us up. Jen's injury, the fact that we then only had enough girls to play two outfielders, and the weird feel of the foreign Woodland Park field--with its bat humidor and roofed dugout and well-groomed infield--all added up for a stinging 7-6 defeat. Or, it might have been a stinging 6-5 defeat, no one is sure.
Other ups, downs, and notables from tonight:
- The Blue Star's spinach artichoke dip was sadly wanting.
- Going by Google hits alone, we settled an argument: more of the world knows about Michael Jackson (44 million) than Michael Jordan (10.7 million).
- Matt thought he didn't get a tomato on his Gardenburger, but then it turned out he did (whew).
- Teri pulled up in her Miada for a liquor store run, but after idling her engine in the road to chat with us, left--sans alcohol. Surely she isn't ashamed to buy booze in front of 826 volunteers, many of whom she witnessed saving leftover beer from a keg in empty Talking Rain bottles at last year's Mustache-a-Thon wrap party?*
- Danny's salted caramel ice cream at Molly Moon's was more like caramelized salt ice cream, and it is possible we will lose him to a sodium-induced heart condition tonight.
- We found out Zach was a substitute teacher at my high school...when I went there. Everyone then felt either sadly old or abashedly young.
- Bill and I have the same birthday, which we share with Bill (f**king) Clinton.
- Bill feels really bad about Jen's arm and won't sleep well tonight. Our Bill, I mean. I'm pretty sure Bill (f**king) Clinton sleeps okay regardless of how many arms he breaks in a day.
*Speaking of Mustache-a-Thon...I hope you're readying your upper lip for September.
**Next Thursday, that is.
Monday, July 7, 2008
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
Our First Non-Loss!: A Recap
Last night the Oscar Wildes did what no other team in the Queen Anne softball league named after a 19th century Irish writer has ever done before. They scored one for the T column. Not quite a W, but definitely not an L.
This was a well-fought tie. Unable to believe that we were actually not losing to them (perhaps our reputation preceded us), our opponents officially challenged our score sometime around the 5th inning. Clearly they did not have the wisdom to heed the advice of the ever-apte Oscar Wilde, who reminds us, "Arguments are to be avoided; they are always vulgar and often convincing." Case in point: the umpire was convinced that as a team we were capable of counting all the way up to five. Considering that our bench coach possesses all kinds of mathematical skills (including the ability to quickly calculate the percentage of pregnant teens in different high schools), it's somewhat insulting that they even asked. But it was a refreshing change; usually when the other team approaches the umpire it's to question my gender.
As they say, there is no "me" in Oscar Wilde, and each and every team member played a huge role in this almost-victory. For example, Danny got an amazing triple in the first inning. I didn't witness this as I enjoy being fashionably late to the 6:15 games, but I assume he hit the ball somewhere where the other team was not easily able to get it and then ran fast. And then there was that time when that girl hit it out to deep centerfield but was thrown out with a spot-on throw to third by an intrepid Wilde. And I remember Jared ending one defensive inning with two key outs in a row. And who could forget Matt's diving catch and double play! In addition, Doug led off one inning with a solid hit and scored that historic tying run. And Zach gets the credit for being the OWs first non-losing pitcher. (He also gets extra points for bringing a minivan of minifans to the game.)
But really the MVP of the game was, once again, #826. You just have this way of always being in the right spot to make those key plays. Dang. It's amazing.
It's clear that the Oscar Wildes are just hitting their collective stride as the season draws to a close. With only two games left in the regular season, the OWs plan on snagging that elusive actual-win next week as they ramp up for the playoffs. One could even see the team as that dark horse (not to be confused with the Dark Knight--Get your tickets now!)--you know, coming out of the shadows (i.e. last place) and winning (or at least continuing to not lose). Stay tuned. It's going to be a wilde rid.
This was a well-fought tie. Unable to believe that we were actually not losing to them (perhaps our reputation preceded us), our opponents officially challenged our score sometime around the 5th inning. Clearly they did not have the wisdom to heed the advice of the ever-apte Oscar Wilde, who reminds us, "Arguments are to be avoided; they are always vulgar and often convincing." Case in point: the umpire was convinced that as a team we were capable of counting all the way up to five. Considering that our bench coach possesses all kinds of mathematical skills (including the ability to quickly calculate the percentage of pregnant teens in different high schools), it's somewhat insulting that they even asked. But it was a refreshing change; usually when the other team approaches the umpire it's to question my gender.
As they say, there is no "me" in Oscar Wilde, and each and every team member played a huge role in this almost-victory. For example, Danny got an amazing triple in the first inning. I didn't witness this as I enjoy being fashionably late to the 6:15 games, but I assume he hit the ball somewhere where the other team was not easily able to get it and then ran fast. And then there was that time when that girl hit it out to deep centerfield but was thrown out with a spot-on throw to third by an intrepid Wilde. And I remember Jared ending one defensive inning with two key outs in a row. And who could forget Matt's diving catch and double play! In addition, Doug led off one inning with a solid hit and scored that historic tying run. And Zach gets the credit for being the OWs first non-losing pitcher. (He also gets extra points for bringing a minivan of minifans to the game.)
But really the MVP of the game was, once again, #826. You just have this way of always being in the right spot to make those key plays. Dang. It's amazing.
It's clear that the Oscar Wildes are just hitting their collective stride as the season draws to a close. With only two games left in the regular season, the OWs plan on snagging that elusive actual-win next week as they ramp up for the playoffs. One could even see the team as that dark horse (not to be confused with the Dark Knight--Get your tickets now!)--you know, coming out of the shadows (i.e. last place) and winning (or at least continuing to not lose). Stay tuned. It's going to be a wilde rid.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)