OTTAWA – With baleful weather conditions threatening the start of the season, the fun bunch made their debut at Bell on Thursday, nonetheless. The wind swirled and gusted while ominous looking dark clouds filled the sky as the temperature began to plummet. “This is going to be a chilly one”, remarked plucky first base woman leah “the roadrunner” morrell - her breath crystallizing as she spoke.

Missing stalwarts Kathie “daredevil” Adare, Alison “bulldozer” Hale , Glen “the wrangler” Rankin, John “methuselah” Devries and Richard “wild thing” Bujold, team manager, coach, accountant, trainer, equipment manager, webmaster and perennial all-star steve “field marshal” saunders worked the phones and came up with some last minute replacements to plug the holes.

Making their season debut for the fun bunch were “field marshal’s” niece Paris “song bird” Patricelli and Adrian “sweetspot” Seaman. In addition, Jess “bulls-eye” belanger brought out her friend Mikaela and “the roadrunner” brought out her friend Jenna to round out the bevy of five , young, athletic, women who together lowered the median fun bunch player age by about 25 years. Also joining the squad after a brief retirement of zero games, was mark “polygon” pintar filling in for missing fielder ryan “man-o-war” matishuk.

This awkwardly left “field marshal” as the reigning oldest player on the team. However, he defused the situation brilliantly, taking the taunts of “methuselah” in his good-natured stride.

The fun bunch were playing the Crawlers – a convivial group for sure - but a “B” class team at best.

The game started off slow -- only one run by the fun bunch after two innings. A run scored by “bulls-eye” after clark “pound ‘em back” lawlor placed a hit in the gap that rolled right to the fence for a triple. But then the gloves came off. The fun bunch released a barrage of offense at the hapless crawlers for back-to-back five run including a rare in-the-park home run. “field marshal” rolled back the cruel hands of time and drilled a ball directly at the crawler right fielder (who bore an uncanny resemblance to Colonel Sanders) and proceeded to tear around the base. The Colonel watched the ball sail over his head. By the time he tracked it down it was too late. Three runs had scored and the base paths were cleared.

Although in over their head, the crawlers weren’t about to go gently into the good night entirely. They mustered one impressive five run inning with some well placed hits to make the score 12-5 after 5 innings. But then the fun bunch doubled-down as the onslaught continued. Newcomers “songbird”, “sweetspot”, Mikaela and Jenna all had impressive games. “bulls-eye” crushed one ball so far it would have been over the fence at Hampton Park, but even with the wind blowing in at the large Bell diamond it landed at the base of the fence.

The highlight of the game occurred when the most athletic of the Crawler players “Trevor” tagged a pitch that tipped off “sweetspot’s” glove and rolled all the way to the fence. “Trevor” blazed around the bases determined to give his team a much-needed morale boost. As the ball came in from the outfield, “Trevor” was on his way to third. “field marshal” drilled an off-line throw to Jess from the outfield. “Trevor” rounded third and headed home, but the ball ricocheted off the fence and quick-thinking Mikaela grabbed it and quickly tagged “Trevor” out as he was about to step on home plate to prevent the run, end the inning, and extinguish the nascent Crawler rally in brilliant fashion.

The “bash brothers” worked their magic too. Scott “boom boom” Saunders crushed a (perfect) pitch over the center field fence – with the wind howling in -- to score three runs in the sixth – an impressive feat. However, “field marshal” was not about to be left out of the party. Coming to bat in the ninth, one in-the-park home run already under his belt, he cast a playful wink at his baby brother on the pitching mound and politely asked him to “toss it in like a beach ball”. One pitch later the ball was crumpled over the right field fence to clear the base paths and put the final dagger between the eyes of the punch drunk crawlers. Cold, beaten and humiliated the slunk off the field. Final score 27-7.

OTTAWA – Up against their toughest challenge to date, the fun bunch faced their arch-nemesis the Aquabats on Thursday at Bell diamond. Not able to match the fun bunch for sheer power of course, the Aquabats try instead to spray the ball into gaps in the field for singles. Adding of course to the “friendly” rivalry is the—now ancient--defection of one-time Aquabat Kathie “dare-devil” Adare.

Playing in the late-late game starting at 9:30 pm, the team started grumbling in the dug-out soon after arrival. “This is past my bedtime”, bemoaned plucky third base woman leah “roadrunner” morrell between yawns. The rest of the team kvetched in agreement.

Making her season debut was Meghan “marathon” Saunders. With her upcoming marathon on the weekend, her overprotective father, scott “boom-boom” saunders, didn’t want her to participate in the game. “She’s been training a long time for this. What if she gets hit with the ball or rolls her ankle?”, he expressed with fatherly concern. “I’m not a snowflake for god’s sake”, “marathon” shot back – determined to prove her mettle to the team. “And by the way, if you don’t want me to get hurt it would help if you bought me a pair of cleats and a decent baseball glove”, she added for good measure – smiling smugly at her new found contempt.

The first inning was an offensive let down. Only jess “bulls-eye” belanger got on board before steve “field marshal” saunders brought her in to score. Three quick outs and the inning was over -– stranding “field marshal” at third. Defensively things were very positive. While the Aquabats threatened with three consecutive hits, a terrific running catch by “boom-boom” on a deep fly and a timely double play got them out of the inning without any aquabat runners scoring.

Still refusing to wear cleats, “boom-boom” still managed to put on a tour-de-fource both in the outfield and at the plate. On a pitch dark night, with the field lit up by retina-searing arc lights, it was a challenge to say the least to track balls in the outfield. Yet “boom-boom” did that with aplomb. Galloping around the outfield in his slick soled runners, he somehow managed to track down everything hit his way and reel it in with outstretched limbs. But he wasn’t done there. Not by a long shot. With the Aquabats falling further behind every inning, desperation overtook them and they turned to a new chapter in their playbook – aggressive base running. Doing their best to stretch singles into doubles, force throws at third and sneak home surreptitiously, “boom-boom” decided he had seen enough. He made two highlight reel plays from the outfield that put an abrupt end to the Aquabat shenanigans.

With seemingly a good shot at a double, an aquabat baserunner rounded first and shifted into high gear to try and stretch out the long single as “boom-boom” fielded the hit on one hop neatly. Catching the baserunner heading to second out of his peripheral vision --like a sharp-shinned hawk—he smiled wryly and uncorked a bullet to glen “the wrangler” rankin at second base. With the baserunner coasting into second, “the wrangler” slapped him hard with the tag and watched his face sag like a wax crayon that’s come too close to a flame.

Not content to rest on his laurels, “boom-boom” once again made a spectacular play later in the game. With an Aquabat baserunner on third, the next batter hit a deep fly ball to right field. The player on third hunkered down like a cheetah ready to pounce on the tag-up. “Boom-boom” caught the ball—his umpteenth catch of the night—and with nary a sideways glance unleashed his best throw of the night—nay his career. Perfectly on track, it sailed through the pitch black night sky like a cruise missile locked on to home plate. It was going to be close, but “the roadrunner” stood her ground. Foot firmly planted, she outstretched her glove and arm and prepared for the pain that was sure to come as the Aquabat bore down.

“You’re out” , the umpire roared as “the roadrunner” clutched the ball through gritted teeth and searing pain, tears welling up in her eyes. Beaten by a step-and-a-half, the baserunner stood there perplexed, bewildered and slack-jawed still trying to comprehend what had just unfolded as if in a trance as the rest of his team slunk their heads and trudged back out onto the field—their nascent rally quashed mercilessly by “boom-boom”. Taking note of what had just transpired the Aquabats would adjust their aggressive base running “playbook” for the remainder of the game.

After a slow start the fun bunch put together three strong offensive innings with the father-and-daughter team of “boom-boom” and “marathon” leading the way. Playing in her first professional ball game, “marathon” had three hits in her first three at bats, including an “oh-so-close” play at first that would have been an out for any other base runner. Noticing her other-worldly acceleration, the “Aquabats” could be heard murmuring “watch that one she’s fast” in her subsequent at bats. Proud dad “boom-boom” followed up his defensive heroics with two towering home runs leading to four runs and five runs in consecutive innings.

Hobbled by a painful torn achilles tendon, “field marshal” –unable to run and barely able to walk—was assigned (against his will) a courtesy runner from the plate. However, on each of his monstrous hits, he attempted to dart out of the batters box and race the runner to first, wincing in agony on each painful step despite his team pleading for him to stop. Finally, “the roadrunner” had seen enough. As umpire, she stood behind him for his next at bat and promptly tackled him to the ground as he crushed the next pitch to the fence. Caught off guard, he went down easily, like a sack of hammers, as Adrian “sweetspot” Seaman scampered to third on his triple. Taking it all in good-natured stride, he chuckled as she helped him to his feet and scolded him like a schoolmarm.

After building up a 13-5 lead the fun bunch bats suddenly went quiet as they went scoreless in three of the last four innings. Thankfully, the fun bunch defense formed a bulwark against the precision Aquabat hitting. Outfielders Ryan “man-o-war” Matishuk, “sweetspot” and “boom-boom” battled the lights all night long including some towering fly balls by a new gigantic Aquabat player.

One of his fly balls went straight up almost disappearing from site. As “man-o-war” tracked it he shouted “I got it” to his teammates as he sidled up to it. But as the ball continued to climb, he began to wonder if it was going to come down, now just a pin prick in the sky. After what seemed like an eternity, Newtonian physics finally kicked in and the ball started getting bigger as it accelerated downwards. “man-o-war” now stated swaying back and forth as the ball darted about on its inevitable descent. With a final “uh-oh” he made a stabbing motion at the projectile but missed as it dropped into the grass. Unimpressed “field marshal” stood glaring at “man-o-war” from the infield, arms akimbo. “you should have had that one” , he chastised “man-o-war”, an unfair taunt that would come back to nearly haunt him as two innings later he would face a similar challenge.

With the gargantuan Aquabat player back at the plate, he hit the first pitch once again straight -up, only this time directly in “field marshal’s” direction. Up-up-up it ascended with shocking velocity, as “field marshal” gulped hard before realizing he would have to take charge. With a less than convincing “I got it”, he too sidled up to the still ascending ball and attempted to track it’s motion. “wow this is a lot more difficult than I thought”, he mused as the ball began it’s long spectacular descent. He attempted to follow it’s trajectory but his failing eyesight led to the ball coming and going out of focus. He began to get dizzy. He stutter-stepped to keep pace with the seemingly wobbly motion of the ball. He felt “man-o-war’s” contemptuous gaze drilling into the back of his head. He knew secretly “man-o-war” was hoping for him to drop the ball, giddy with the prospect of failure. Realizing his reputation was at stake he licked his dry lips, squinted his eyes, and held out his mitt as his feet skittered when he crossed the demarcation between outfield and infield. The ball mercifully landed with a “plop” in his glove and he squeezed tight with all his might to hold on for the out. “man-o-war” cursed audibly from the outfield. While not admitting it , he held a new found appreciation for the job of the outfielders.

“Bulls-eye” belanger had a great defensive inning too to keep the Aquabats off the score sheet making all three plays at third base in the eighth inning to keep the game close including a tag , a caught pop-up and a force out. The tag came courtesy of a remarkable play by “the wrangler”, who tracked down a single into the outfield and made a blind spin-and-throw motion to third to catch the baserunner completely off guard.

With the game 16-10 for the fun bunch, they entered to “endless” ninth inning. With their unbeaten streak on the line , “the wrangler” took charge and made a diving catch through the abrasive infield heedless of his own well being for the final out to secure the win and strand a couple of baserunners. Emerging triumphant from a great plume of dust and sand he raised his glove to display the ball still firmly clutched in the leather pocket. With both shins gushing a torrent of blood he tip-toed around the giant dung beetles that had invaded the diamond. Fun bunch extend their winning streak to 3-0.

OTTAWA – Having just beaten perennial tournament champions the “Athletics”, and the “Aquabats”, steve “field marshal” saunders was basking in the glow of well deserved 4-0 start to the season. With some of the “bottom feeder” teams coming up on the schedule he was breathing a sigh of relief and looking forward to a more relaxed and less intense next few weeks. Sure it would hurt to be missing stalwart Alison “bulldozer” Hale for the rest of the season after her dramatic injury last week, but all the new recruits were playing exceptionally well and he was sure that the youngsters would pick up the slack.

The playbook on “Got the Runs” was that they were a “middle-of-the-pack” younger team. Lots of verve and energy, but not always well directed. Should be a “slam-dunk”.

A last minute calamity-in-the-making was narrowly averted when neophyte Adrian “sweetspot” Seaman, informed “field marshal” that he “couldn’t make the game” a mere hour beforehand. Thankfully, always reliable mark “polygon” pintar jumped at the opportunity to suit up in the grey-and-red-pin-stripes when he was called up as a hasty replacement. That kept the team at a healthy five-guys-and-four-girls. “field marshal” let out a deep sigh of relief – although “sweetspot” now had a blemish on his report card.

With the game required to start at 6:20 sharp ,“field marshal” was a little perplexed that his full team had suddenly evaporated. They stood in the dug-out a measly seven players, down two from the expected roster. Missing were glen “the wrangler” rankin and kathie “daredevil” adare, both of whom had confirmed that they would indeed be at the diamond on time. With his team casting him a “what do we do now” look – like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming tractor-trailer, he calmly ground his teeth and ordered them out on to the battle field--like sheep to the slaughter.

It was a skeleton crew in the outfield, and “field marshal” was forced to cover short stop and third base, leaving a cavernous opening that the “got the runs” players would soon exploit. As they came up to the plate, “field marshal” was having trouble recognizing any of the faces from last year. Athletic, powerful, speedy and aggressive one by one, they came to the plate and one by one they smashed hit after hit. Their women hammered two towering shots over the heads of the scott “boom boom” saunders and mark “polygon” pintar in right and left field. With the bases loaded a squat, and muscular player came to the plate and crunched the first pitch into the neighboring diamond for a grand slam and four more runs. Down five runs after five batters, the fun bunch were in for a real dog fight – this was clearly no longer a “slam dunk”.

The “fun bunch” slunk off the field a dejected troop. They were in a deep hole and knew it. With “daredevil” and “the wrangler” still AWOL , and down five runs they would have to stem the bleeding immediately.

With military precision they executed the battle plan. Hits by Jess “bullseye” belanger, “polygon” , “boom boom” and ryan “man-o-war” matishuck generated three efficient runs with no home runs used up. Meanwhile “daredevil” had sheepishly slunk into the diamond , tail-between-her-legs. “I went to the wrong diamond” , she apologized to her none-to-impressed teammates. Determined to make amends, she was called to the batters box, with only enough time to affix one cleat. With her other foot still sporting her Birkenstock sandal, she nevertheless swung at the first pitch and sprinted to first helter-skelter for a single.

With three runners already in and runners on first and second, “field marshal” strode to the plate. With only two runs left to score in the inning, he would eschew his customary gargantuan home-run-of-epic-proportions. That weapon would remain in his back pocket for maximum shock-and-awe effect when absolutely needed most. No, he could get by with a tidy hard drilled liner to the fence to score the two runs they needed. One pitch later, mission accomplished as “man-o-war” and “daredevil” came in to score. With their deficit now erased, a somewhat more jubilant fun bunch strutted back out on to the field, a slight skip in their step--albeit still without MIA fielder glen “the wrangler” rankin.

The defense had a better inning and managed to allow only two runs on some nifty catches in the outfield. Just as the last out was made, “the wrangler” could been seen jogging in from the overflow parking lot. “Sorry I’m late” , he effused as he ran into the dugout. “I’ll explain it all later, it’s complicated”, he continued tersely as if sending a not so subtle message to “back off”. Like a pit bull that’s been cornered, his teammates avoided eye contact so to not be singled out for attack.

Now down 7-5, the fun bunch got hits from meghan “marathon” saunders, “bullseye”, “polygon”, “boom boom” and “the wrangler” to score three more runs and momentarily take the lead 8-7.

Scoring a run, but slipping-and-sliding as she gingerly navigated her way carefully around the base path, “marathon” was having trouble keeping upright. The fastest runner on the team, she was nonetheless hobbled by her lack of proper equipment. Despite repeated attempts by her uncle “field marshal”, to browbeat her father “boom boom” into buying her a pair of baseball cleats, she was still forced to play with a pair of slick-soled running shoes. “I’m sorry uncle field marshal. I asked my daddy if he would get me some cleats, but he just laughed and walked away”. Scowling at his heartless baby brother, “field marshal” was seething. “don’t worry ‘marathon’, your birthday is coming up soon and I’ll have the family chip in to buy you a pair of cleats for your big day if your daddy won’t”. Her eyes lit up at the suggestion. “you’re the best uncle ever!”, she shrieked and gave him a big hug as she attempted to wrap her arms around his massive frame.

But the battle was not over yet. Not by a long shot. “Got the Runs” doubled down and used up two more home runs to score five more in the third inning. The fun bunch were now down 12-8 in this see-saw battle of epic proportions.

“Marathon”, still giddy over the thought of playing in proper baseball gear, jumped on the first pitch and sprinted down the line to beat out the infield throw by an eyelash. With “field marshal” next to bat, he was looking for a gap in the outfield , not wanting to waste a home run for the sake of only two runs. “Throw it outside a bit, but not like a beachball, I want to keep this one in the park”, he instructed his attentive brother on the mound. With a perfectly placed pitch, he choked up on the bat and took a half swing trying to guide the ball into a gap in the opposite field. But it was to no avail. The laws of Newtonian physics held tight as otherworldly acceleration deposited the baseball into the nearby football field. “field marshal” grimaced—he had wanted to save that home run for later.

But it was a good start to the inning and the rest of the team rallied to score three more runs for a total of five on additional hits by “daredevil”, “polygon”, “boom boom” and “the wrangler”. The fun bunch clung to a narrow one run lead 13-12.

The next two innings would be their undoing. Back-to-back, three up three down innings and two donuts for their lack-lustre efforts would saddle the fun bunch with a deficit from which they would not recover. Punctuating their woeful offense, was a double play where “man-o-war” got picked off first base on a harmless pop-out to extinguish the inning. Sheepishly he slunk back to the diamond, averting his teammates annoyed gaze.

The fun bunch defense however managed to limit their opponents offensive barrage to four runs , giving themselves an outside chance of redemption—but make no mistake about it was tough going. This was trench warfare at its finest. This was a team of hand-picked, battle hardened combatants with nary a weak link in the chainmail. The women crushed the ball. The men hit home runs at will. All of their players galloped around the base paths aggressively, taking extra bases on every play. Defensively they were the same – only better. Two plays in particular stand out. “Daredevil” drilled a text-book perfect single between third and short, but astonishingly, as she was about to step on the bag at first she was gunned down on a throw from the outfield no less. This particular fielder , sporting “look at me” attire of leggings and other odd apparel, clearly was “playing down a few rungs” in this league. On another spectacular play, “bullseye” crushed a pitch into the gap for an easy double or possibly a triple, but watched with horror as “major league” ran flat out and then dove head first to catch the ball, arms outstretched to end the inning.

The fun bunch, nevertheless soldiered on, hitting two more home runs—a two run shot by “boom boom” and a “solo” shot by “man-of-war” but in the end came up short. Beaten 16-20 by a worthy opponent, the funbunch would not be so ill prepared for their next conflict. “They’ve won the battle but they’ve not won the war”, seethed plucky first base woman leah “roadrunner” morrel.

OTTAWA – In a truly rare event—like a planetary alignment or a transit of venus—perennially truant players Richard “wild thing” Bujold, John “hans solo” Devries and Paris “song bird” Patricelli all showed up for the funbunch game on Wednesday night at Hampton Park diamond. “I should have bought a lottery ticket”, chuckled adrian “sweetspot” seaman, after shaking his head to make sure he wasn’t seeing double.

In fact this was the first game of the year for both “hans solo” and “wild thing”, having eschewed the previous five games seemingly preoccupied with other “more important” events. Leah “the roadrunner” Morrell also bolstered the ranks with a new addition, Sarah “launchpad “ Lord – an experienced ball player and all-round athlete to bring the total to eight guys and five girls for a grand total of 13, the largest roster posted in over a decade.

The team was still smarting from their first loss of the season two weeks ago, a squeaker 20-16 at the hands of “Got the Runs”. With their initial shot at redemption cancelled last week (ostensibly due to rain) , they were eager for a chance to wipe the slate clean and re-start their winning streak tonight –and avoid the further wrath of steve “field marshal” saunders.

“Wild thing” was as usual in fine form. When umpiring, he was “holding court” with the other team’s catcher – oblivious to the game unfolding around him. Chatting and laughing, he guffawed, and slapped his thigh at his own jokes, disturbing his own teammates in the batter’s box in the process—throwing off their concentration and causing them to mis-time their swing. Despite their scowls and stern glares, he continued merrily with his shenanigans, seemingly enjoying himself immensely at their expense.

In the field he was positioned at second base. A risky decision given his lack of preparation and the sheer volume of traffic that typically comes in that general direction. It turned out to be a bad move as “wild thing” struggled to field a ball cleanly for the first few innings. Over his shoulder, off his shin, through his legs. The permutations seemed endless. At one point he chased a ball into the outfield only to drop it as he juggled it awkwardly. Not finished yet, he wallowed in the mud—like a wart hog—trying to get a grip on the ball as it squirted from his hand over and over again as he fought a losing battle with the frictionless orb.

His teammates were not impressed. Kathie “daredevil” adare , playing first base, rolled her eyes heavenward and shook her head. “launchpad” looked perplexed at the uncomfortable vaudeville act she was witnessing and wondered if she had in fact come to the right diamond.

On top of “wild thing’s” chicanery, the “Bons Vivants” were racking up some hits leaving the fun bunch down 8-6 after three innings.

Having seen enough, team co-captain Alison “bulldozer” Hale—out for the season due to her hamstring injury but in the dugout to keep score—laid in to her team. “For crying out loud will someone catch a ball out there. We’re playing the Bons Vivants for gawds sake. You should all be ashamed of yourselves. And by the way “wild thing”, enough of your sideshow at second base. Just hunker down and stop the darn ball!”, she hollered at the top of her lungs. Everyone collectively lowered their heads. She was absolutely right. They were playing awful and staring at the unthinkable—losing two games in a row. A shameful feat that had occurred only once in over 35 years.

Jess “bullseye” Belanger started the rally. A barrage of hits followed. When the dust settled they had score four runs and were up 10-8.

Defense then kicked into high gear. “wild thing” followed his directive and hunkered down. The outfield caught fly balls. The infield turned double plays.

The fun bunch scored five runs – twice-- without a home run. In fact in the fifth inning they scored five runs without a single out. The team was running in high gear now. The Bons Vivants felt the inexorable shift in momentum and they were helpless to stop it. They were being mercilessly slaughtered by the funbunch dreadnought. Their night was over and they knew it. They were now praying for a merciful fate.

With eight guys in the dugout, three had to sit out every inning. That meant that everyone got a chance to play different positions. Making the most of his audition was glen “the wrangler” rankin. Snagging the coveted short stop location, every time “field marshal” sat out, he put on quite a defensive show culminating in a perfectly executed fake throw home. Seeing him lunge towards home plate, the runner at second came off the bag and headed for third. But the wily “wrangler” hung on to the ball and quickly pivoted to tag her out to end the inning. Spiking the ball he jogged off the field. Watching all the while in the dugout—and none to impressed-- was the “field marshal”. As glen garnered congratulations and high fives from his teammates, the “field marshal” was relegated to “what-have-you-done-for-me-lately-status”. He put his arm around “the wrangler” when he came into the dugout. “well done kid – but time to take your foot off the gas”, he whispered as he squeezed ever harder. “the wrangler” let out a yelp. He got the message and shook his head nervously in acknowledgement.

Lowering the boom, the team was up 20-12 heading into the eighth inning. Hits by “launchpad”, “bullseye”, and “wild thing” loaded the bases. With none out, “field marshal” couldn’t believe his good fortune. He pressed his hands together and cast his eyes heavenward in a “thank-you” gesture. He hadn’t had the opportunity to park a ball yet this game, but by god this one was going to get parked. As he grabbed his trusty Louisville Slugger and strode to the plate his teammates urged him on. But then the unmistakable voice of john “hans solo” rose above the cacophony. “Yeah you could be a real hero – or a real goal”, he wheezed, chuckling smugly at his ill-timed jibe. “field marshal” stopped dead in his tracks. The dugout went silent with a collective gasp. All eyes turned on “hans solo” who seemed to shrink to the size of a violet. “hans solo” gulped hard. But “field marshal” instead broke into a wide smile and cast “hans solo” a playful wink. “They’ll be no goats tonight hans”, he retorted as he stepped into the batters box and pummelled the first pitch over the fence and into the awaiting maw of an oversized pit-bull in the nearby dog park.

With one inning to go the fun bunch defense allowed only a single run on great defense by the outfielders “sweetspot”, ryan “man-o-war” matishuck , scott “boom-boom” saunders, “bullseye” (who finished the night an impressive 6-for-6). With another outstanding defensive play, “launchpad” fielded a hard grounder at third and gunned out the hapless runner at first. Heck even “wild thing” and clark “pound em back” lawlor finished the game strong with some great infield plays and a 4-5-3 double play. Fun bunch win 25-14 and commence a brand new one game winning streak. Their record now stands at 5-1.

OTTAWA-Going from feast to famine in one fell swoop, the fun bunch started the game Thursday night on a sour note fielding a miniscule roster of only eight players including only three women – two of them neophyte rookies. That left Kathie “daredevil” Adare as the only seasoned veteran left to “hold down the fort” as both paris “songbird” Patricelli and meghan “marathon” saunders were left “twisting in the wind” by their female compatriots in what was to be a painful “baptism by fire”.

They were playing “pitch please” a new team last season, filled with talented youngsters, who seemed to have done some recruiting in the offseason judging by the pre-game warm up. Missing Jess “bullseye” Belanger, Leah “the roadrunner” Morrell and Alison “bulldozer” Hale left a huge hole in their batting line up—not to mention their infield-- to say the least.

As the home team, however, the fun bunch got off to a terrific start on hits by “daredevil” (twice), Mark “polygon” Pintar, Glen “the wrangler” Rankin and capped off by a gargantuan home run by steve “field marshal” saunders—a deliberate attempt at shock and awe, to send an initial warning shot across the bow of “pitch please” and chalk up an impressive 5-0 lead after the first inning.

But then the wheels came off the wagon, in a painful, slow-motion, horror show that lasted the remaining eight innings as the fun bunch offense ground to a complete halt chalking up six scoreless innings – a new team low. Even the addition of their new bat—a beautiful composite 28 oz end-loaded Demarini “New Breed” –failed to kick-start their sputtering offense as player after player flew out, ground out, popped out, or struck out. Compounding the train wreck in the batters box, were the plethora of jaw-dropping base running errors for the few runners who managed to actually get on base. These included running into two double plays and getting picked off base twice on fly balls bringing any twinkle of momentum to a screeching halt.

Defensively, however, the team was impressive. With only three outfielders and no rovers, “boom boom”, “polygon” and “the wrangler” were covering the outfield like a battalion twice their number. “the wrangler” fielded a ball and threw a one-hope strike to Adrian “sweetspot” Seaman at second base for a highlight reel out. “field marshal” snagged a grounder deep in the hole at short and delivered an absolute rocket to “daredevil” at first to beat the baserunner by half a step. Even meghan “marathon” saunders got into the act, playing the “hot corner” when she used her shoulder to stop a wayward grounder that had bounced over her glove. “uncle field marshal told me to always backstop the ball with your body”, she said matter-of-factly, grimacing in pain from her now bruised clavicle.

Remarkably, holding a 6-3 lead heading into the bottom of the fifth inning, it looked like the fun bunch might be able to salvage a win—despite their offensive ineptitude. But then their luck ran out. A wayward throw to first. A bobbled play at second. A couple of clutch hits to the fence and when the dust settled, pitch please had their first lead of the game 8-6. But with three innings to go not insurmountable.

The teams exchanged goose eggs in the seventh and deuces in the eighth to leave the score 10-8 for “pitch please” heading into the top of the ninth. “polygon” got aboard bringing “field marshal” to the plate with one out. With a chance to tie the game he was licking his chops to park another over the fence. The hurricane-gale wind picked up in ferocity as it blew straight in from the outfield. He dug into the batters box and swung at the first pitch. He lowered his head in disgust as soon as he made contact. He had got under the ball. A home run on any other night, the winds were going to hold it up keeping it in the park as it was caught at the fence. The glimmer of hope faded in the dugout and the remaining batter went meekly, like a lamb to the slaughter.

OTTAWA-On a perfect baseball night, Steve “field marshal” Saunders got an email from the league convener shortly before the game that the Main Street Crawlers were defaulting the game as they “couldn’t field a team”. When “field marshal” informed his team of the decision, the reactions were predictable. “What nerve!”, snorted third base woman Leah “the road runner” Morrell. “They didn’t even have the courtesy to call you and tell you in person!” she continued indignantly. “We could have lent them a few players and made still made a game of it”, fumed the normally quiet and reserved Adrian “sweetspot” Seaman furious at their behaviour.

Making matters even worse, was the reaction from Alison “trigger finger” Hale, who brazenly attempted to undermine “field marshal’s” authority by sending out an unsanctioned team communique upon being informed by the convener. “Run for the hills everyone!. The game has been cancelled! Quick go make plans to do your laundry before ‘field marshal’ schedules a practice or some other equally absurd event on such a perfectly good baseball night!”. “field marshal”, needless to say, was not impressed. “Stand down bulldozer”, came his curt reply. “You are on the DL. Take all the time you need to heal, but in the meantime please leave running the team to me”.

Now attempting to mop up “bulldozer’s” mess, he instructed his team in no uncertain terms to “report to the baseball diamond as originally planned. We will of course pounce on this fortunate opportunity to take batting practice. You can do your laundry when the practice is over”. Everyone but “bulldozer” reported for duty and their reactions afterwards spoke volumes. “OMG, that was so awesome!!”, exuded neophyte Paris “songbird” Patricelli, blisters on her palms from one too many swings of the bat. “Thank-you so much uncle ‘field marshal’ for letting us get some much needed bp!”, added Meghan “marathon” Saunders’. In fact the whole team was chipper and upbeat after the light-hearted affair as they trundled off to whispers to further their team bonding experience.

OTTAWA – Richard “wild thing” Bujold arrived at the diamond but something seemed different about him. No, he was still adorned with his trademark pizza stained jersey, wool socks and steel-toed work boots, but his visage seemed out of character. No longer convivial, his face betrayed a man besieged by inner demons. Still smarting after his demotion by steve “field marshal” saunders to his doghouse after standing up the team last week, his gaze was now steely-eyed and almost serious looking. His composure was different too. There was no laughing and knee slapping to be seen. He sat in the dugout, alone, contemplative, expressionless, angry. A man determined to regain the trust of his teammates and more importantly his captain. He knew he had a steep—nary impossible--hill to climb.

The game started with the fun bunch fielding only nine players including a new recruit. Jordan “jc” Clark, meghan’s boss and owner of the westboro shopper’s drug mart who was filling in for one of the myriad of missing fun bunch players. “jc” had been trying for months to get a try-out with the renowned fun bunch, and finally his persistence had paid off. “field marshal” harrumphed his displeasure, however, when he showed up in the dugout sporting running shoes and not baseball cleats. He made a mental note of this brazen disregard for proper attire. “This kid better be something else on the diamond”, he thought to himself.

Bell diamond has a massive outfield so it is imperative to have four outfielders. However, with only nine players, the fun bunch had no one to play rover. That left huge gaps just over the infield. Two fun bunch players had said they would arrive to the game late, so the team would just have to make due until then.

When the rebels came to bat, they immediately noticed the huge voids in the outfield and commenced an aggressive campaign to target those zones scoring two runs in the top of the first. Jess “bullseye” belanger and Mark “polygon” pintar then got aboard in the bottom of the first inning bringing “field marshal” to the plate. He made quick work of the first pitch thanks to his trusty Louisville slugger and parked the ball over the right field fence for a three run homer. Fun bunch now led 3-2.

As the game progressed, the fun bunch maintained their lead but only by the slimmest of margins. Meanwhile, the game provided some highlight reel plays. “bullseye” was hitting the ball a ton all night long. In her second at bat, she crushed the ball all the way to the fence for a stand up triple. Paris “songbird” Patricelli had been working hard in boot camp determined to master the power swing and was hitting the ball harder and farther every at bat. Meghan “marathon” Saunders was putting on an impressive display as she sprinted down the line to first base resembling a female version of usain bolt , her feet barely touching the ground as the rebels became more frustrated every inning at their inability to throw her out. “watch out, she’s fast”, came their warning to no avail.

Leah “the roadrunner” Morrell, despite starting the game a little sluggish complements of her pre-game meal at the local “bier garten”, caught a rebel baserunner trying to stretch a single into a double. Fielding a terrific throw from scott “boom boom” saunders from the outfield she turned to see the runner half way to second base. “field marshal” positioned himself to cut off the runners retreat and urged “the roadrunner” to “throw the ball”. But Leah’s eyes grew wide like saucers as she accelerated towards the rebel player, now resembling a deer caught in the headlights of an on coming semi. He started to run back to first but slipped in the dirt. He righted himself and started to run again but it was no use. “the roadrunner” was upon him like a lion sinking it’s claws into a helpless gazelle. He yelped as she slapped him hard with her glove, making sure she struck him with all her might, just like “field marshal” had taught her.

As the game wore on and the rebels were unable to overtake the fun bunch , their “fun” demeanor quickly went south. First they accused the fun bunch of calling their outfielder an “idiot” when he made a spectacular catch. At which point their catcher proceeded to stomp around the infield looking for the guilty party to “fess up”. Then another batter hit a ball into the outfield and “field marshal” – playing first—went to the bag by instinct to get ready for a play. Quickly realizing there was no play to be made got out of the way but that was not good enough for the rebel dugout as expletives and threats came flying fast and furious in addition to great plumes of blue cannabis smoke.

In the fifth inning, the next rebel batter hammered the ball hard through the infield. This was going to be extra bases and would most likely make it all the way through the gap in the outfield to the wall. “wild thing” sprung into action at the crack of the bat and began charging hard in a vain attempt to cut off the ball. His Kodiak work boots sent huge divots of grass flying in all direction as he dug in and closed the gap like a man possessed. The ball took one final bounce and “wild thing” made a desperate lunge, arm outstretched , glove fully extended and yearning for redemption. Defying the laws of Newtonian physics, he somehow managed to caress the ball with the tip of his glove and reel it in like a prize salmon. His momentum at this point prevented him from stopping. Preparing for the impending impact with the ground, he extended both arms to break his fall. Upon touch down he collapsed into a tight ball and did a barrel roll that would put an Olympic gymnast to shame. One complete turn later he was back on his feet , perfectly positioned as he fired a strike to first base, behind the runner who was caught completely off guard. Forced to jam on the brakes, the rebel who was nearly at second, reversed course and began a hasty retreat. With the ball on it’s way, the runner made a last ditch attempt to avoid the tag as his foot found the base barely before the tag was forcefully applied with a loud whack.

The entire diamond sat in stone-face silence. You could hear a pin drop. What had they just witnessed? The diamond began slowly spinning. Turning and turning in the ever widening gyre. The falcon could no longer hear the falconer. Things fell apart as the centre could no longer hold. Mere anarchy was loosed upon the world as Richard “wild thing” Bujold looked brilliant.

With the score now 16-13 for the fun bunch, and time running out, they entered the last inning. The “endless” inning. With nerves fraying, this was going to be a long inning. Down by only a few runs, and with their “bag of dirty tricks” nearly empty, the rebels would now pull out all the stops to win this game. Leah “the roadrunner” Morrell cast her eyes heavenward and shook her head. “Where is ‘the wrangler’ when you need him. He would be the perfect foil for this rebel chicanery. An well-placed elbow to the face here, a firm knee to the solar plexus there and these ornery rebels would smarten up like a spoiled child spanked by a fed up parent”. The thought made her giddy and she let out a little giggle. She quickly covered her mouth with her glove and looked around but no one had noticed her faux pas. She giggled into her glove again.

The rebels soon had two outs with two runners in. The score was now 16-15 for the fun bunch.

With the tying run at third, the next batter crushed the first pitch into deep left field. Scott “boom boom” Saunders positioned himself carefully beneath the ball near the warning track. The runner at third hunkered down, like a jaguar, preparing to run home on the tag play. “boom boom” took one last look at the runner at third before he caught the ball. “boom boom”, normally a quiet and reserved individual was fed up. He had endured eight innings of the Rebels at their worst and was going to make a statement right here and now. His niece paris “songbird” Patricelli was positioned with her foot firmly on home plate with her arm outstretched to left field as she had been taught by her uncle the “field marshal”. From the outfield she looked like an ant. “boom boom” took a deep breath and time seemed to stand still as he reeled back and threw an absolute rocket towards the plate. The runner on third sprung out of the starting gates. The race was on. “boom boom’s” throw was not parabolic but almost flat like the trajectory of a gunshot so great was the velocity. “song bird” locked onto the incoming missile and braced herself for impact. As the runner bore down, he heard a sound like a steam whistle as the ball sailed past his head now only steps from victory. The ball skipped once, a short hop just in front of the plate. “song bird” realigned her glove as taught in “boot camp” . The ball squarely found the back of her mitt and she squeezed hard through the searing pain now moving up her arm. The rebel umpire looked about to cry. The runner from third was a good foot away from home plate when “songbird” had made the catch. Looking nervously into his own dugout, his lower lip began to tremble as he was faced with a moral dilemma. Face the wrath of his overly stimulated team or make the correct call. He stood there transfixed for what seemed like an eternity before a meek noise emanated from his pursed lips. “out”

OTTAWA- It was another sweltering day in the seemingly endless heat wave that had descended upon Ottawa for the better part of a month. Nevertheless, “field marshal” scoured the internet looking for a “red hot deal of the day” on one of his collection of discount golf web sites. There was so many today, it would be hard to choose. One in particular caught his eye. Chateau Cartier, 10:48, $26. Bam! Chateau Cartier was a short, “feel good” course that was very forgiving and only about five minutes away as the crow flies. He quickly booked the round as he giggled with delight. That would leave him plenty of time to finish the round and get back in time for baseball.

This was another of his favorite courses. One he had played so often he could now do so blindfolded. Actually that might be fun to try one time just for a lark, he thought.

His playing partners were nice enough chaps. Paul and Eve were brothers-in-law who lived in the south end of the city. Eve it turned out was a new immigrant from Holland, who had just experienced his first winter in Canada this past year. “It sure is cold here”, he said matter-of-factly. “field marshal” just nodded in polite agreement. He didn’t have the heart to tell him that it only gets worse the longer you live here. Paul was a marketing entrepreneur who had only recently sold his online marketing business to Arlene Dickenson of Dragon’s Den fame.

After some friendly banter “field marshal” donned his “game face” and hunkered down with the sole intent of “going low”. On every hole he provided his playing partners—both of whom had never played the course—some key advice. Where to position your drive, how much of the corner you could cut, the perfect layup spot, distance to the flag, tricky green slopes, hidden hazards, the list went on as his compatriots gobbled up the badly needed intel with great verve.

This wasn’t going to be a stellar round. “field marshal” figured that out after the third hole and his third consecutive par. He took his foot off the gas and relaxed a little. Heck it was a nice day and he was playing with some friendly duffers, his sub-par round would have to wait for another day.

After seventeen holes , three bottles of water and two gatorades, “field marshal” had finally reached the eighteenth. The round’s last potential hurrah. It was a short par 5 – only 500 yards and another of field marshal’s favorites. He explained where to position your drive for maximum impact. “Stay away from the right hand side. You can get blocked out by the trees”. No sooner were the words out of his mouth when Eve hit one way right over the cart path. Paul followed soon after--only even further right onto the 16th fairway. “field marshal” let out a sigh as he lined up his ball. “Guys you didn’t take any of my advice”, he said jokingly as he wound himself up like a corkscrew. He knew halfway into his back swing that this was going to be good. He uncoiled like a python and pummelled his defenseless titleist pro-v1 so hard that it seemed to whimper in response. It took off like a rocket. His playing partners watched slack-jawed as it headed in laser-like fashion to the exact spot on the fairway he had shown them only moments earlier where it landed with a thud.

“Meet you guys on the green”, “field marshal” yelled to his partners as they trudged off to try and find their wayward drives. Meanwhile “field marshal” approached his drive and was ecstatic. He couldn’t have possibly hit it any better and come to think of it never had. This was his best drive ever on this hole by a mile. He grabbed his trusty bushnell pinseeker laser finder and zapped the flag. It was blue indicating the hole was at the back of the green. 184 yards, slight tailwind. “field marshal” was always wary of blue flags. Probably the worst mistake you could make was to roll off the back of the green when flag hunting blue flags. Better to be cautious and land a little short and try to get some roll. He drew out his callaway forged 6 iron, like a knight drawing his sword before a great battle. He knew this green quite well and it was tricky. You definitely did not want to be putting down hill. Very fast, very sloped. He would aim dead center with a bit of draw that would be perfect.

He aligned himself and took two practice swings. Both flawless. He struck the ball and it was a beauty. It sailed towards the dead center of the green as planned. It was a little thin however so the trajectory was lower than he would have liked. It was coming in hot and hit the front edge of the green. Then the draw spin took hold and rolled the ball all the way to the back of the green before it settled on the edge directly below the hole. “field marshal” couldn’t believe his good fortune. His so-so round just got a lot better. He licked his dry lips as he put his 6 iron away and walked towards the green. Paul and Eve were still looking for their balls.

At the green, he uncovered his taylor made daddy long legs putter with custom super-stroke extra wide grip. Despite his mediocre round, the daddy long legs had been good to him. He had drained a ton of par-saver putts today thanks to its uncanny precision. On a whim, he lifted it close to his mouth and whispered, “please daddy long legs just help me with this one last putt, I would really appreciate it”. He lowered it down quickly and looked around. No one had seen him.

He surveyed the green. He was thankfully below the hole. This was probably the toughest hole on the course if you are above it. It was deceptive. If you had not played this course before you would not realize the speed or notice the break. He knew he could be firm with his putt to keep it on line. Since he wasn’t putting across the green there would be only minimal break – maybe one balls worth. Eve and Paul unfortunately did not fare so well. Eve was at the top of the green. Even with a boat anchor he wasn’t going to be able to keep his ball on the putting surface. Paul was even worse. He was going to have to putt down the green and across it. A hopeless task. If he could get it to stop within 10 feet of the hole it would be a miracle. Both players gave it a go with predictable results. Eve’s ball sailed by so fast he was going to need a wedge to get it back on the green. Paul completely misread the break and the speed and left himself another tear-jerker putt for bogey. “field marshal” politely let them finish before he settled in. He visualized the ball path and speed. He took two practice putts to dial in the weight , then he aligned the daddy long legs and let it go. He hit the sweet spot bang on. The ball surged one ball outside the hole as planned. As it lost speed it started to break, looking good half way to the hole. It was still ascending the hill, and continued to lose pace. Did I hit it hard enough? Did I get the right line? “field marshal” was overcome with self-doubt. The ball was inches from the cup and dropping fast. It caught the outside edge and began to teeter. It rolled around the rim and started to descend. It landed with a plop at the bottom of the cup. He had done it. He had made his eagle. He whispered “thank you” to the daddy long legs as he let out a sigh of relief.

OTTAWA- At a casual glance it had been a very successful season. The funbunch had an impressive record of 10-2 with one game left in the schedule. The darlings of the league they were coming round for another grab at the brass ring--the tournament championship. Behind the scenes however, steve “field marshal” saunders had been hard at work, keeping the SS funbunch afloat as it lurched from side to side. First came the desertion of his front line officers: scott “boom boom” saunders (booked vacation during tournament weekend), john “hans solo” devries (kicking back at the cottage), ryan “man-o-war”matishuck (sister’s wedding), adrian “sweetspot” seaman (in-law get together), clark “pound ‘em back” lawlor (tournaments are boring), meghan “marathon” saunders (taken prisoner on family vacation), alison “bulldozer” hale (injured hamstring).

Next he was informed that one of his replacements for the tournament—a local baseball superstar—would not be able to play, as the winds now picked up to gale force. Then the storm surged yet again as his niece paris “songbird” Patricelli took a line drive off the thigh last week at the hot corner and looked iffy to play. At this point a lesser captain would have jumped into the nearest life boat and abandoned ship, leaving what remained of the crew to a watery grave. But “field marshal” -- a battle-hardened veteran of the high seas—lashed himself to the ship’s wheel and guided his prized brigandine through the pounding waves of this relentless nor’easter. He then commanded what remained of his crew to “batten down the hatches” and “man their posts” – the smell of salt water now intoxicating.

But just when he thought the worst was over, his ship was hit broadside by the biggest wave yet: kathie “daredevil” Adare would not play in the tournament: she had been involved in a biking mishap and was in a cast for two weeks.

The SS funbunch swung hard to port, nearly capsizing as it pitched and rolled, bobbing up and down like a cork. Now down to a meagre crew of four sailors, the task seemed impossible. But these stalwarts would not give up: first mate leah “ the roadrunner” morrell, cupped a hand to her mouth and yelled, “ ahoy captain – sarah ‘launchpad’ lord has made a change of plans and will arrive in Ottawa on Friday”. Then “songbird” climbed up from the makeshift infirmary down below still sporting a massive purple welt on her thigh. “aye aye captain, I’m ready for duty”, she yelled, wincing in pain. Richard “wild thing” Bujold swung down from the mizzenmast—a knife firmly clenched in his teeth—and braced himself firmly on the foredeck resplendent in his pizza stained buccaneer’s outfit. “captain, I have rounded up two more scurvy dogs: my brother Pat “oft injured” Bujold and Emily “former competitive ball player” Chen. Mark “polygon” pintar and jack “jackhammer” Lawlor both donned their canvas doublets, breeches and Monmouth caps from the slop chest to join the crew as they began hoisting sail.

The hurricane started to subside, now downgraded to a tropical storm, the SS funbunch righted itself as it parted the still choppy waters and continued on it’s course. “field marshal” untethered himself from the ship’s wheel and affixed his spectacles. The crew had reeled in a message in a bottle. He read it aloud to those onboard. “Honorable field marshal. I have kept abreast of your terrible dilemma and have been overcome with guilt. As such, I have altered my vacation plans and will return forthwith to be court marshalled at your earliest convenience as you see fit. I and my daughter “marathon” will in the meantime report for duty at o-seven-hundred hours on Saturday morning to play in the tournament. Respectfully, your brother, ‘boom boom’”.

The crew erupted into joyous cheer and quickly broke out into a rousing version of fifteen men on a dead man’s chest. The skies parted, the seas calmed. They had done it. They now had a full crew and were sailing full steam ahead to their next port of call: Carlington #1 diamond Saturday morning.

OTTAWA-The fun bunch were limping to the finish line. With only one game to go, steve “field marshal” saunders had managed to scrounge together a measly seven players and two of them--including himself--were injured. The other was his niece Paris “songbird” Patricelli still suffering the after affects of her line-drive mishap last week. Making matters worse, their opponent for the game-- “pitch please”-- was one of only two teams that had managed to beat them this year. It was going to be a tough game, and the season series was on the line. He desperately wanted to win and finish on a high note.

Unable to recruit a spare before the game, “field marshal” showed up to the diamond looking to secure some players from one of the teams that played in the early game. With a stroke of luck, three volunteers from “stop hitting on us” agreed to the doubleheader. Kelsey, Jason and Steve (or Steve 2.0 as he was called to avoid confusion) entered the dugout and exchanged greetings with their new teammates.

The fun bunch got off to an ice-cold start chalking up two scoreless innings with only a couple of batters reaching base. Luckily , they managed to keep the potent “pitch please” offense off the scoreboard as well.

In the third inning the team kicked things into high gear with hits from Adrian “sweetspot” Seaman, Jess “bullseye” Belanger and Kelsey from S.H.O.U. setting the table for “field marshal”. With some slight direction and encouragement , he coaxed neophyte pitcher steve 2.0 to “toss it in like a beach ball” before depositing it over the right field fence for a four run shot. Pitch Please clawed back with two runs of their own.

The see-saw battle commenced in the fifth inning as Pitch Please drove in five runs to move ahead of the fun bunch 7-6.

Unperturbed , the fun bunch answered back with five runs of their own in the fifth on hits by “the roadrunner”, paris “songbird” Patricelli, Kelsey, Glen “the wrangler” Rankin and Richard “wild thing” Bujold – all without using up a home run. The lead whipsawed back in favour of the fun bunch 11-7.

“Songbird” was putting on quite a spectacle. A nervous neophyte only games ago, she now strutted into the batters box and pawed at the sand like a bull waiting to charge. Lifting her front foot to shift her weight backwards she waited—like a coiled spring—until the ball was in range. Timing the pitch perfectly, she then uncoiled and threw her weight forward in order to maximize her bat head speed with impressive results as she hit the ball harder and farther in each at bat.

The highlight of the game occurred on a seemingly innocuous play. Their enormous short stop, had hit a single. Clearly disappointed, he rounded first aggressively, as “wild thing” picked up the ball from the outfield. Buffoonishly he stutter-stepped towards second, daring “wild thing” to throw the ball. Meanwhile “the roadrunner” closed in behind him and cut off his path of retreat at first. “wild thing” quickly threw to the ball to “the roadrunner” catching the baserunner off guard. He gulped hard and his pupils dilated as he began to sweat profusely. Now stranded off-base he was caught in a run-down. He took off towards second with “the road runner” in pursuit his breath now wheezing as his heart beat ever faster. Once “field marshal” sensed a run down he sprinted into action to back up “wild thing” and stood in the base path of the advancing runner and “the roadrunner” threw him the ball. In her excitement she missed her target and threw it over “field marshal’s” head and no where near his glove. He leapt in the air—a hobbled man with a torn achillies tendon—and snatched the ball with his bare hand. Wincing, he came down hard and charged the base runner who jammed on the breaks. The gig was up, he was in way over his head. Tears began to trickle from his eyes as he tried desperately to get back to first base. How could he have been so stupid. With the prey exhausted and his predators closing in, his demise would now be mercifully quick. “field marshal” flipped the ball to “the roadrunner”. He tried once more to reverse course, but it was no use. His legs buckled and he began to fall. “The roadrunner” slapped him with her glove with all her might. He yelped and tumbled to the ground in a dusty heap. Ashamed, embarrassed and in desperate need of medical attention he slunk off the field to a chorus of boos and catcalls from his teammates.

In another close-to-perfection moment, a Pitch Please woman crunched a huge hit to left field. “The wrangler” was caught off guard and the ball was sailing over his head. Relentless, he took off tracking the ball as it continued it’s upward ascent. As it started to descend, he was still running flat out and made a last ditch stab at the ball both feet now in the air. Snagging the ball, it rolled around in his glove as he landed and tried to regain his footing. He took two running strides before the ball popped out and fell to the ground despite his spectacular effort.

After the sixth inning the fun bunch clung to a narrow two run lead 13-11. The top of the seventh inning saw the fun bunch score only a single run to increase their lead to 14-11. Pitch Please found their second wind. They scored four runs to once again move into the lead 15-14. With time running out their would be only one more inning. The fun bunch season hung in the balance. Hits by “sweetspot” and “the roadrunner” put two runners on second and third with two out. “field marshal” approached the plate. He had only one thought in his mind and that was to park the ball in the adjacent field. The first pitch was high so he waited for the next one. He swung mightily but hit it off the handle, it was a towering moonshot but was not going to leave the yard. With two outs the runners were off on contact. Both “sweetspot” and “the roadrunner” came home before the ball landed with a plop in no man’s land as “the wrangler” –pinch running for field marshal—galloped into second. Further hits by “bullseye”, “songbird” and “wild thing” scored two more runs. At the end of the top half of the last inning, the fun bunch were now in the lead 18-15.

In the bottom half of the inning, Pitch Perfect—despite their best attempts—could not score a single run as the fun bunch defense shut them out to win the game 18-15, tie the season series 1-1 and finish their schedule 11-2

OTTAWA-The fun bunch played their second game of the day at 11:30 at Carlington #1 diamond. With alumni Maggie “magpie” McGovern and John “manhandler” Manson in the stands they were looking to put on an entertaining show for their fans.

Sadly, the offense sputtered to start the game, scoring only two runs in the first three innings. Still, their stellar defense allowed only a single run to the potent “pitch please” batters.

New comers Pat “oft injured” Bujold and Emily “talk to my agent” Chen continued to impress their teammates with their rock-solid play. Rookie Paris “songbird” Patricelli continued her torrid hitting, smashing one ball into the outfield for a double and standing tall at home, blocking an errant throw with her bruised leg. Meanwhile Jack “jackhammer” Lawlor looking to replace his father Clark “pound ‘em back” Lawlor on the team next year, hit a monster home run to score two runs. With his father now just a fleeting memory, the replacement seemed imminent.

Glen “the wrangler” Rankin got a little hot under the collar when he made a brilliant diving play, sliding feet first to catch the ball before proudly holding his glove aloft for all to see. Unfortunately, the unimpressive umpire didn’t see it that way and called it a “trap”. “the wrangler” could take it no longer. This was the fourth poor call in favor of the other team so “the wrangler” charged hard towards him. Luckily steve “field marshal” saunders and Richard “wild thing” Bujold cut him off at the pass, as they gang tackled him to the ground. Still writhing and hurtling expletives, “the wrangler’s” teammates subdued their star fielder before he got ejected.

With Scott “boom boom” Saunders back in town, his daughter had been texting her uncle the “field marshal” all morning. “I want to play but my daddy is still sleeping. I tried to wake him but he says he needs a few more hours of ‘beauty sleep’. I’m sorry uncle ‘field marshal’, I really want to play but he won’t get up”, “marathon” said with exasperation.

The fun bunch offense posted back to back four run innings to pull ahead 10 -5 but the plucky “pitch please” team chipped away for an exciting finish 11-9 for the fun bunch.

Next game 3:15 Carlington #1 vs The Athletics

OTTAWA – It was a case of “deja-vu all over again”, as the fun bunch finished the round robin 3-1 to advance to the league final just as they had done last year. With only as single blemish on their score-sheet—their loss to the Athletics in the round robin—they had earned a well-deserved shot at redemption and a chance to face them again in the final game of the tournament.

A the crack of dawn, steve “field marshal” saunders dragged jack “jackhammer” lawlor to Carlington park in order to work on his timing. It worked like a charm, as “jackhammer” pitched him a bucket of balls with the patience of a saint. Slowly “field marshal” sat back and waited for the ball to get closer. Dialed in, he launched ball after ball over the fence and into the stratosphere . “Thanks ‘jackhammer’, that felt great!”, “field marshal” exclaimed after he finished the last ball. Confident, they packed up and went home to prepare themselves mentally for the game at noon.

The Rebels hadn’t won a game, so expectations for them were low, but the fun bunch didn’t want to underestimate them as they needed to win the game to secure a spot in the final. With air-tight defense, the rebels had trouble scoring runs until the top of the last inning, when they managed a 3-run home run. The fun bunch, while scoring eight runs, left many opportunities on the table to cash in runners. They will have to improve their clutch hitting significantly when they face the Athletics—a much more offensive team.

Marking a turning point, both of the “bash brothers” hit a home run for the first multi-homer game of the tournament for the fun bunch. Defense was spectacular including a perfectly executed double-play—their first of the tournament—to end the game.