Tales of Kickball Glory, Part XXVIII

We had a kickball playoff game tonight. It was kind of iffy for a while, seeing as how we dug ourselves into a 4-0 hole after the first inning. But we stuck with it, held on, and went into sudden death rules after 6 innings. And we won.

(Also, it managed to stay comfortably over 60°F, which is nice for the first week of November in Virginia.)

My own performance was somewhat lackluster on the offensive side -- I had a fly out that (unintentionally) became a sacrifice RBI, as well as another fly out that just... sucked.

However, on the defensive side, one play that didn't suck, came when I was fielding at first base. The kick went to third, and the throw to first went slightly... wide.

I dove and managed to stop the ball, but I ended up hitting the deck, with my head was closer to the base than my feet. So, I cradled the ball to my body with my right hand, then with a fervor (I was told, later) seen only in Press Your Luck contestants giving their best "Big Bucks, No Whammies!" slap, reached out and tagged first base -- with authority.

I made the play, and (I was also told, later) took some of the wind out of the other team's rally.

Plus, I later made the last out of the game.

Adult kickball, as I like to say, is 30-45 minutes of light- to moderate-physical activity, followed by 3 to 4 hours of heavy drinking.

But every once in a while, it offers a bit of redemption.

Tags: fxa kickball, spitzer swallows