You See Me Rollin'

How did softball get to be so hard?

My history with Softball, or “Baseball Lite,” has never been fully documented. Until this year, I had never donned a jersey, swung a straight-barreled bat with a real game on the line, or even caught a softball in the eye. (A baseball, on the other hand, tried to become one with my skull one fateful day when I was 12. I stayed the night at the Morea’s that night, and when I woke up, I looked like Sloth from the Goonies. Rocky Road?)

Softball was one of those Everyman sports, which required little skill in its day and therefore became a prime contender for Gym Class. Even if you were terrible at hitting a baseball, this ball was bigger and came slower. Yes, for the rest of this blog keep in mind we are speaking of slow-pitch softball. Fast-pitch softball can have its day in the sun some other time, and regardless, is a death wish for any third baseman. Their field needs to be bigger. But with Gym class softball, the rules were easy. And since this was high school, your gym class could be divided into three groups:

1 – The third that feel that Gym Class is their place to exhibit their athletic greatness to the world.
2 – The third that went to have fun, just glad that this class did not require a lab notebook or a graphing calculator.
3 – The third that were just trying to not be sweaty the rest of the day.

However, these groups do not always play well together. For there was 1 day when Dave Miller, a prototype Class 1, slapped a single into centerfield, while Chris Condon, a Class 2, held the bag at first. When Miller tried to round 1st to stretch his hit, taking the path of most resistance (me), he went sailing and got his glasses knocked off. He then challenged me to a fight.

I clocked him with my graphing calculator.

No, no I didn’t. But I remember that day with great reverence, that if I were never to play softball again, I went out on a high note. And I didn’t get sweaty before Physics. (Sorry, Class 3 tendency there.)

8 years later, I found myself representing my alma mater in the 10th Annual Capital Alumni Network Softball Tournament somewhere in Maryland. Near NASA (and you thought we done covering the space beat), 61 alumni teams from universities from Boston College to Stanford geared up for a double-elimination tournament to determine once and for all which of our nation’s college’s produces, um, the best educated softball players? Turns out the answer is Colgate.

But what became of William and Mary, the team whose jersey I wore while patrolling the dirt around shortstop? Well, in the 61 team, we ended up finishing 5th. Yes, 5th. The most fun about this type of tournament is looking at the bracket after, and watching as small schools (like WM, Colgate, Tufts) knock off NCAA superpowers. Before falling to Michigan, we managed to eliminate Alabama, Michigan State, Penn State, Notre Dame, and Villanova. Not bad at all. And for the record, the worst team in all of CAN? University of Delaware. Smitty, if you move down here, you’ll instantly become their best player.

My highlight? There was this one field that had a PA system. As players on either side stepped to the plate, they got their name announced and some intro music. Of course, not knowing the gut from VA Tech on the mike, you couldn’t request it (although I would have used the opening to Machinehead by Bush.) Now playing shortstop wasn’t exactly a stand-up role for me. As you might have guessed, there was much diving involved. This made it completely apropos when the PA guy chose the chorus from:

Chamillionaire – Ridin’ Dirty…nice.

And had I dropped a ball at short, this is what I would’ve done.