OTTAWA – When Paris “songbird” Patricelli and Meghan “marathon” Saunders limped into the dugout Thursday night, their teammates were taken aback. Both women sported purple contusions on their shins in every shape and size, swollen hands covered in blisters and dusty uniforms that looked as if they had just rolled around in the dirt. “What happened to you guys!?”, exclaimed Jess “bullseye” Belanger, clearly shocked at the startling sight. “Oh, it’s ok”, winced “songbird”, “we just came from uncle field marshal’s mandatory rookie boot camp”. ”Yeah, it was pretty fun—at least the first three hours—but once we got all those blisters that burst it kinda hurt when we had to keep batting. ”, said “marathon” matter-of-factly. “Uncle field marshal told us we could quit any time though, as long as we didn’t want to ever play another game for the fun bunch—so it really was our choice”, “songbird” quickly interjected. ”Then to help inspire us he said ‘what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger’ and laughed, so that really helped!”, “marathon” replied chipperly -- her hands resembling freshly ground hamburger meat. “bullseye” chuckled at the fond memories of her own boot camp initiation just last year. Tough for sure, but a major factor in her league rookie-of-the-year award.

The team started out with six women and five men, another solid turn-out. They were playing “Stop Hitting on Us” a generally good natured team, known to imbibe copiously before, during and well after the game. While continuing to improve a little each year, the game is still normally a shoo-in for the fun bunch. The fun bunch got off to a rough start when they had a rare four-up-three-down inning to chalk up a doughnut. However, the team managed to get their act together in the second and put together a five run inning to take a 5-1 lead.

Fine defensive play by the fun bunch in the first inning was showcased by a stunning, highlight reel catch by Adrian “sweetspot” Seaman who was playing left rover. Shading towards center for a left handed batter, he was caught off guard when the ball was hit the other way into short left field. Unable to make the play, the fun bunch infielders watched helplessly as the ball blooped over their heads for what seemed like a single. But “sweetspot” – now running flat out--mitt outstretched-- made a final dive at the ball. He caught it in a spectacular play mid-air as he careened into the grass, clasping the ball securely in his glove.

The game proceeded rather uneventfully until the seventh inning. Sure their was the de facto gargantuan home run by steve “field marshal” saunders in the fourth inning. A towering moon shot that sailed into the adjacent diamond. Leading off, Adrian “sweetspot” Seaman took a page out of john “hans solo” devries playbook and parked a “solo” home run much to the consternation of his teammates, many of whom booed him as he rounded the bases.

An odd play occurred in the sixth inning when Kathie “daredevil” Adare came to the plate. Having recently mastered her new “level swing” batting approach, she had been putting on quite the show the last few games, hitting line-drive singles over the infielders heads at will. Smugly gaining confidence, she dug into the batter’s box and cast “field marshal” a playful wink as she instructed him to “toss it in like a beach ball”. One pitch later she had drilled the ball into the gap for what looked like an extra base hit. “Daredevil”, however casually sauntered bat-in-hand down to first base--seemingly content with a long single. Her teammates were screaming at her to “drop the bat and run”, but oddly she continued her leisurely stroll. Finally, “bullseye” could take it no longer. Apoplectic with rage she screamed “run bitch” at her dazed teammate. That seemed to do the trick. Daredevil awoke from her dream-like stupor. Suddenly the full cacophony emanating from the dugout descended upon her like a ton of bricks. Gobsmacked, she dropped the bat and started to run. Meanwhile the hapless “stop hitting on us” outfield had gathered up the ball and were looking to throw it into the infield. “daredevil” rounded first and picked up her pace—this was going to be close. She was feeling the pressure now as she watched the ball sailing through the sky on a collision course with her target second base. Fully realizing now the folly of her inattentiveness, she took larger, quicker strides determined to atone for her initial misstep. The second baseman caught the ball and swung around hard for the tag but too late—“daredevil” had made contact with the bag as she let out a huge sigh of relief. “field marshal” stared at her from the pitcher’s mound—thoroughly unimpressed. “should have been a triple” , he harrumphed.

Entering the seventh inning, Leah “the roadrunner” Morrell was leading off. Her pop out in the last inning didn’t set well with her and she was looking for exoneration. The first pitch came in on a sliver platter. Licking her chops, she wailed away at the defenseless SPN 12” worth grey-dot and walloped the stuffing out of it deep into the gap. Personifying her moniker, “roadrunner” took off like, well, a roadrunner. She scampered around the bases with ease looking to coast into third, rewarded with the fruits of her impressive hit. But something didn’t look right with this play. “field marshal” on the pitching mound had a birds-eye view as it unfolded. “Roadrunner” was nearly at third, yet the outfielder unloaded the ball anyways. The woman at third, clearly not interested in catching the ball, backed away. “Roadrunner” stepped on third base only to be drilled in the back of the head by the incoming missile. There was an unnatural sound, like a champagne cork popping, as the ball glanced off her skull and flew into the woods. Sensing the worst “field marshal” immediately ran to the aid of his young star. “Are you ok? How is your head? Are you bleeding?”, the questions came fast and furious, as the rest of her teammates joined the pair at third base. “I’m fine”, she replied, not a hint of concern in her voice. Tough-as-nails , she had to be dragged against her will from the field. In the dugout she was forced to sit out the rest of the game, and apply an ice pack to the back of her head as a precaution. “Really, I’m fine, I want to play”, the plucky third base woman pleaded to no avail, seemingly none-the-worse for the shameful display of aggression.

With only five minutes to go til the game ended, at the top of the ninth inning, and with the fun bunch up 15-10, the teams discussed how to proceed. The fun bunch thought they should call the game, but stop hitting on us wanted once last chance at redemption. “This won’t take long, you won’t even have to come to bat”, they pleaded, desperate for a final chance to win the game. With really no choice, the fun bunch acquiesced and took to the field looking for a quick and merciful end to the game. Sadly, none was forthcoming as the fun bunch defense fell apart at the seams. With “the roadrunner” sitting on the bench and “sweetspot” gone early from the game, the fun bunch outfield resembled swiss cheese. Stop hitting on us took full advantage of the porous outfield as they got hit after hit after hit gradually closing the gap in this the “endless” inning. With two out, an infield single by the next batter sent the runner from third scurrying home. “songbird” stood her ground foot firmly planted on home plate. Sarah “launchpad” Lord, fielded the ball at third and threw home, but too late as the runner had scored. “songbird”—despite being a neophyte ball player—quickly realized that she still had a chance at first and drilled the ball to “daredevil” to beat the runner by a step and end the inning, keeping the score tied—in what would turn out to be a critical play.

The fun bunch had blown a huge five run lead. The waiting teams were pointing at their watches as the game now ran into overtime. Furious after the deliberate attempt to injure “the roadrunner” and now seething after blowing a huge five run lead, the fun bunch were determined to win this one. Ryan “man-o-war” Matishuck got on base in the first at bat. “Marathon” followed suit with a single of her own to put two runners aboard with none out. “field marshal” next strode to the plate, once again the weight of the entire team on his broad shoulders. He looked over at “the roadrunner” slumped in the dugout, ice-pack affixed to the back of her head and gave her a playful wink. “This is for you”, he mouthed as he made quick work of the first pitch. It was a towering blast down first base and a mile in the air. Curling but managing to stay fair it sailed over the outfield fence. But unperturbed , the stop hitting on us fielder, backed up to the fence, timed his jump and reached over the top to somehow reel in the ersatz home run.

Meanwhile, “man-o-war” scampered back to second base and hunkered down, like a coiled spring. Timing his launch perfectly, he took off from second when the ball was caught and tore around the base path like a man possessed. He easily came home and flew shoulder-first into the back stop to punctuate the win as the rest of the team poured out of the dugout and dumped the oversized gator-aid cooler on his head as they all jumped up and down on home plate to celebrate the walk-off win, 16-15.