THE BATS ARE BACK
Fun Bunch regain offensive touch with twenty-seven run tally in only seven innings
OTTAWA-There was a collective sigh of relief when the Fun Bunch finally turned in seven full innings of full-throttle offense after several previous outings where they had sputtered and stalled. At last fielding a team of more than eight players (they had nine), they felt rejuvenated and ready for pay back. With a lacklustre attendance record this season, Scott "boom boom" Saunders finally graced the team with his presence. "Thank god, you're finally back", sighed a visibly relieved Steve "field marshal" Saunders--his eyes closed and cast heavenward. "Between you and me, back-up pitching has been an adventure", he continued. Still missing three regulars, Glen "the wrangler" Rankin, Martin "the gazelle" Desjardins and Richard "wild thing" Bujold, team manager Steve "downtown" Saunders was once again left in the lurch and spent the better part of three days calling prospective spares to no avail. In a last-ditch, eleventh-hour deal, however, "downtown" managed to secure Matt "the magician" Bujold from the team's triple-A affiliate, the Pawtucket "Pleasant Bunch". Matt, it turns out, is the cousin of Richard "wild thing" Bujold and Chantal "rum runner" Bujold, so you kind of know in advance he is going to wear his heart on his sleeve (and pizza sauce on his jersey). As is customary when the team is playing "the rebels", captain Alison "bulldozer" Hale took great caution to point out (once again) to John "Hans Solo" Devries that "Nat" is indeed a female. "Who, you mean that guy over there", replied Devries loudly with his "outside voice", much to the chagrin of his teammates and the rest of the Rebel players. "Is that guy loaded or something?", the Rebel centre fielder said to his teammate as they trotted onto the diamond, while making a circular motion with his index finger in a "cuckoo" gesture. What happened next transpired as if right out of a softball textbook. The Fun Bunch scored four runs in the first inning and as they giddily skipped of the diamond--high fiving and back slapping all the way--they were met with a rather dour looking Steve "field marshal" Saunders. "uh-oh, I think we're in trouble", whispered Rowena "scoresheet" Sams, lowering her head to avoid "field marshals" glare. "Listen very carefully. I want to see five runs, in each and every inning--with the exception of the last--when I want to see ten. We have all let the team down with our performance the last two games and now is your chance to make amends", he boomed-- loudly enough that several Rebel players instinctively ducked as if to avoid a low flying plane. Spurred on by "field martial's" imperative, the team once again took the call to action deadly serious and proceeded to put on a hitting clinic. Every player scored at least two runs, "the magician", "hans solo" and "downtown" each went five-for-five, four runs scored by Paolo "slip'n slide" Daros, Matt "the magician" Bujold and five runs scored for "downtown". Four runs scored by "rum runner", three each by "bulldozer" and "scoresheet" and two more from "gazoo". In fact, there was so much offense, the score sheet pen ran dry twice causing Rowena "scoresheet" Sams to plead with a toddler in the nearby playground for a crayon in order to finish marking the game. The recently mowed grass in the outfield was thick and shaggy and the mulch was layered heavily on top, causing any outfield hits to stop rolling immediately. The rebels took advantage of the conditions to spray shallow balls around the outfield for their fair share of hits. A few untimely dropped balls, combined with some pretty "home town" calls by the rebel umpire and the game was closer than it should have been. In the top of the seventh inning, patti "gazoo" anderson, seemingly hit yet another solid single up the middle, but instead of running to first, she took a couple of hard steps towards the base and then turned away and started limping towards the dugout. Seething with rage, "field marshal" bellowed at "gazoo" to get back on the field and run out the hit but to no avail. "Sorry field marshal but I'm D-for-done", Patti stoically intoned, grimacing from the intense pain, as it became clear that she had injured herself rather severely on the play. When the Fun Bunch took to the field in the bottom of the inning, "gazoo" started hobbling towards her spot at back catcher. "At ease soldier", "field marshal" said as he calmly addressed "gazoo". "You've done more than enough for your team this game, we will cover for you while you rest", he continued--admiring her spunk all the while. "Listen here 'field marshal', I've played on this team for over twenty years and I am not about to abandon my teammates now. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few", "gazoo" hissed in response. Sensing that this was an argument he was not going to win, "field marshal" flashed her the "thumbs up" sign and headed out to the field, even more impressed with her tenacity. Heading into the bottom of the seventh (unlimited) inning, the rebels were attempting a rally. With three runs in so far and two out, they had two runners on and were looking to load the bases for their cleanup hitter. The next batter hit a shallow fly that looked like it was going to drop in for a bloop single. Sensing that this out was critical, "field marshal" began back pedalling immediately. Taking a brief look over his shoulder, he could see the fielders charging hard but well out of the range to make a play. As the ball sailed over his head, he made a well-timed leap in an attempt to make the catch. Higher and higher he rose, as if climbing an invisible ladder. At the zenith of his trajectory, he came to the gut wrenching realization that he could not catch the ball with his glove. A lesser player would have abandoned the play--but not "field marshal". With twenty-seven years of league play to his advantage, he calculated that he still had a chance--albeit a slim one to make the catch. In a herculean effort that defied the laws of physics, he exerted himself to impossibly climb one more rung. Reaching out with his bare hand he stabbed at the ball. One finger, two fingers, slowly he reeled it in--like a prize salmon, until he had the ball firmly in his grasp for the out. It was at that point, that time seemed to come to a complete standstill. "field marshal" swivelled his head around but no one was moving. Mouths were agape, fists were clenched in exultation, but there was no sound, there was no movement. Then the bubble burst and everyone--and I do mean everyone including the other team and all the kids in the nearby water park and a couple of neighbors barbequing in their backyard--rushed out to congratulate "field marshal"--realizing that they had just witnessed perhaps a once in a lifetime event.
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