Allow me to introduce myself. I’m the best f-ing softball player you’ve ever met. Just ask the opposing teams in the 4 leagues I’m in this summer. I flat out rake. You could populate a small country with all the pitchers I've taken deep. I just spent three hours in the batting cage and hit the @#%$ out of the ball. Line drives, big flies, opposite field shots. I can do it all. Some kids next to me in the cages were staring and pointing at me. I can’t blame them. They’ve probably never seen a 50 year-old man wearing Oakley Blades and batting gloves who can hit bombs like me. Especially not with shorts this tight.
This season, I’m making sure we sweep all 4 leagues. Especially the Men’s League at Eureka. We were two outs away from winning that baby last year and now I can taste it. I’ve gotta get my hands on that 10-foot plastic trophy. It’s all I think about. Rumor has it the league winners get 2 free pitchers at Big Louie’s Pizza after the season. No way we lose with the trophy and 78 ounces of Bud on the line.
I just bought all new equipment for this season. You should see the extra long stripped baggy baseball pants I got. Super tight. I picked up a new set of wristbands, a tube of eye black and a pair of 3-inch mud cleats, you know, just in case I need to break up a double play. I also got to get my hands on one of those $350 Miken Ultra II bat for a little extra power. It may cost me a week’s pay, but screw it, when I start cranking 400-foot shots it will be worth it. I can’t wait for that first at bat. I’m bringing a tape deck to the game, so that I can blast The Scorpions when I walk to the plate. Nothing gets me fired up to play ball more than The Scorpions. Except maybe Metallica, but I save that for the playoffs.
I feel sorry for the other teams. They have no idea what I’m about to unleash on them. Actually, I don’t feel sorry for them. You think that anyone felt sorry for me when that bastard coach cut me from the Babe Ruth baseball team? You think Babe Ruth or Dave Kingman felt sorry for the other team when they took them deep? They should have known better than to get into a league with me. This year I’m focused. I practiced like a son of a bitch in the winter at Coopers Gulch and got the call to play catcher. That’s right, the main show baby. Only the best play behind the plate. I have to be sharp, so no more beer during the games. I’m going to wait until after the game to starting pounding cold ones and I’m still going to drink you under the table. My initials might as well be M-V-P. That stands for Most Valuable Player for all you non-softball players. The League starts in a few months. I may take the week before off to prepare. Why do I take softball so seriously? F you. You’re just jealous!
(Disclaimer: I plagiarized some of this material. It reminded me of some people I know. This is supposed to be funny.)