Summer ends, school begins, baseball just goes on

Since everyone was so busy celebrating the end of the summer months and, perhaps moreso, the return of kids to school, everyone was remiss in sending Mother Nature a gentle reminder that, once we fall into September, we should be expecting cooler climes. Even if it is just by a few degrees. However, no memo, so she didn’t seem to remember to shut down that infernal machine that adds humidity to decent temperatures, to make them less bearable. September 6th and the hot, humid, sticky weather retains its hold on baseball night. It’s not the heat, you know. Well, kind of, yes, it is. Humidity is just the added bother. A subtle, yet overall amusing evening of ball. Still a few spares required, but the teams are fielding more and more original members, for good or bad, for better or for worse. Sometimes the games can leave a less bitter taste in the mouth when you are able to add a little fresh meat to your team. Not that the original team members are any less than fresh, but they occasionally require a little extra seasoning to make them a little more gamey...er...a little more adept at the game.

Summer ends and the playoffs loom, with just one more regular season game to fit under our belt. Most of us have the room. Appears even if we have had just about a full season of experience to add to our resumés, the number of errors still occurring may indicate that the season is just not quite long enough. Or maybe it is too long. We either require more practice or we might have overplayed our limits. Number of pinch runners required and the number of players slowly limping off the field, may indicate the latter. However, I always think we should play more, but that might just be me. Ladies seem to be holding their own, with just the odd minor ouchie, which is a good thing, since most of the guys seem busy trying to hold themselves together, nursing various wounds to several parts of their bodies. In some instances, most parts. Captains may be concerned, as more and more of the males struggle to endure the game with all their parts intact and may not fully survive until the playoffs. The way the woman are holding up indicates that, perhaps, too much testosterone makes the body more feeble and the mind weaker. But the girls were probably already aware of that. The males, on the other hand, are always content to remain blissfully ignorant. So it all works out.

The level of play is probably due to none of the above, but I have to go on about something to fill out the blog, especially this late in the season. Well, I don’t have to but, of course, I will. Few minor tips. One, stretch before the game and, if you don’t, try to avoid stretching during the game. Two, try touching your toes every once in a while and, if you can’t, accept the fact that grounders are going to get past you. Third, if you are off your game, always make sure someone covers. Sometimes really, really close. The closer, the better. Fourth, and most important of all, not playing well is much better than not playing at all, so get your ass out on the field. Believe me, no matter how bad you feel you are doing, you are not doing that bad and, even if you are, it won’t be long before someone else does something worse and gives you a clean slate to start all over again.

Most likely we have simply reached the bar, be it set too high, too low or right at eye level and have reached the uppermost, comfortable limits of our playing prowess. Always nice to see some still striving and jumping over the bar and always humorous to see others try to make the attempt. Either way, we still seem capable of successfully completing two games each evening, so we must still be doing something right. Even if, at times, it just looks completely wrong. As always, appearances can be deceiving. Guess the best rule is if you are still enjoying yourself and having fun, it doesn’t matter how well you play. Depending on who you ask, of course. And if you want play it safe, just ask me. I’m easy. I think everything is all just dandy.