In a titanic, interminable struggle that lasted just eight minutes shy of high noon, the victorious Vans edged out the hopeful Halens by a final score of 12 to 11. This one had it all, folks: heroics, trick plays, ignominy, redemption…and ultimately renal failure.
An early freight train beat-down of Jeremy’s sore pitching arm, including a rooftop salami by Kurt, put the headlong Halens up by eight and things were looking insurmountable. But mount they did, sir, as the voracious Vans then feasted upon the molasses of one Don Juan Terpstra for seven to make it anybody’s game. Then it was time for theatrics, with new-guy “Tex” Adrian gloving a deep scorcher to rob The Bandit of a probable long-ball, along with what remained of his dignity.
In the ignominy department, The Don figured he had this week’s Summer’s Eve Award neatly slotted when he somehow booted a slow-roller right to his mound that had so little velocity on it that if you immortalized the moment in marble, the statue of the ball would be moving faster. But not so fast, Don! For our beloved Boog would come out of nowhere to snatch away Don’s trophy by botching a hat scoop on a roller of his own so agonizingly slow that it would take liquid nitrogen and lasers to achieve a lower energy state.
A big factor in today’s tussle was the glaring, merciless sun that turned a number of routine fly balls into costly extra base hits. Further upping the run tally was an unusually high number of bases awarded by walk. Although in Jeremy’s defense, pitching around Kurt was probably wise what with the aroma of salami still faintly detectable from the direction of the Halen’s hottest bat.
And while he allowed no runs on the day, Kurt’s pitching, fast and tricky as it was, actually yielded an improbable trifecta of smash singles to the full Van lineup in late innings. Krash then immediately returned to his task of spraying the vapid Vans with unhittable BB’s, including one absolute photon of a pitch to this writer that careful post-analysis of the game film indicates may have somehow actually nicked the ground before breaking straight up and catching the outer-most femtometer of corner chalk. If Maddux and Mata Hari had a kid, and that kid pitched, he’d pitch like that.
Adding to all the game-related mayhem was the presence of a constant stream of neighborhood civilian park-users. Kids on bikes, moms walking dogs, tween boys with errant basketballs, and some dude wheeling a cooler apparently containing a liquid so toxic that he wouldn't even describe it for us. Luckily, Commish's professional crowd control skills sprung into action, and he authoritatively called time so gaggles of girls could cross the field and all other manner of public relations got handled smoothly.
But in a day with more than its share of memorable plays, the one for the books had to be Terpstra’s unconscious, reflexive swing which connected with Jeremy’s double play toss, thereby making The Don arguably the first player in league history to score two hits in the same at bat. Now THAT’S wiffleball, my friends!!
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Sabbath Goy.
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