3/10/5: Cold Nights, Warm Beers, and Hot Boxes

If anyone missed or ignored my email announcement, I want to remind you that softball season is starting in about 3 weeks. D. Lee has sprung for the permit and could use a little 'bursement if you plan on playing regularly. You can email me to get his contact info if you need it.

It has been stupid cold this week. March is living up to its rep, and I for one am ready for the lamb's arrival. For some people, the first sign of Spring is pitchers and catchers reporting down in Florida.  For me, it's that first Sunday night softball game, when we're taking our practice swings and warming up our arms, chattering away harmlessly. When the temperature of the beer matches the temperature of the evening at a very drinkable and very playable 51 degrees. 

It means good things are on the way. Here are a few other familiar scenes I'm looking forward to:

The moment when I airmail my first routine throw to first and let out the customary yelp announcing that my arm is shot for at least another year.

The first time Big Jimmy Lang refuses to run out a ground ball.  And also the moment later in that same game when he goes from first to third on a grounder to short.

Deion making his first sliding catch without spilling a drop of Sapporo.

D. Lee swinging from his heels and belting his last batting practice pitch 50 feet over the fence, and then attempting to suppress a smile as he denies it was intentional.

The night when Pete B. shows up and finally gets to call his first shot.  Watching him grin in triumph or giggle in defeat depending on the outcome.

Reading Dan K.'s first recap.

Mark's first terrifying slide into second.

The first foul ball hit over the 3rd base fence, and the ensuing halfhearted argument about whether it should be one strike, two strikes, or an out. Winning this argument.

Arguing in general.

Making friends on Gay Pride Day. Lesbians with rifle arms kindly retrieving our foul balls.

D. Lee's first clever team name combination.

The first ringer walkup dude who becomes a regular.

Joe M. throwing pebbles at Jimmy Lang.  Joe doing the fierce chicken while belting out the opening scream to "Immigrant Song." Me trying to get him to calm down, to no avail.

Alexi roaming left field like a rabid puma.

Calling people by the wrong name for months on end. Lots of Joshes and Matts and Dans and Teddys.

The first scoreboard dinger. Should called scoreboard dingers count for like ten runs? Or maybe infinite runs?

Dipak's first game winning hit in the bottom of the "ninth."

The first ridiculous new proposed rule.

One-time Rookie of the Year Chris Lee's Hubert Davis-like decline into premature middle age, as evidenced by his spotty attendance record and constant aches and pains.  The guy's only like 19 years old. Hopefully this will be a comeback season for him.

Hussar's perplexing tendency to be overly fair in arguments. And then the first time when he gets all riled up.

The very real sense of fear that sinks in when you're playing 3rd base and Matt is at the plate.

The first angry response when someone suggests that the reset button should be pressed.

The first wild throw to second that rolls into the right field corner, allowing everyone in the park to score. The ensuing elation for the beneficiaries and the deep depression that sets in for the offending team.

Rob calling shots in every game.

Justin leaping against the fence to rob somebody of a hit.

The first time somebody is forced out at second on a base hit to center.

The first play at the plate.

The first encroaching soccer player drilled by a line drive.  Hopefully off my bat.

And, of course...those first glorious cries of "HOTBOX!"

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Sorry we've been so stingy with the premium content lately.  We should have new empeetreys, cartoons, Name That Solo/Wheredat/GISG, etc. in the next five to ten days.  Just trying to get the real house up and going before we fire up the office on all cylinders. But when we do come back, we'll be like Jordan (in the first comeback). Oh, hell.  Here's a wheredat for you.

P.S. I think the first time someone starts arguing too fiercely or taking the game too seriously this year, I am going to tell him "You better check yourself."