Kris Durham

Ok, lame title, but I'm full of Turkish kebob and had a beautiful gay bar experience in which I was denied entrance to the all-male two-step dance floor. Ho hum.

So I thought you might like a little run down of how the ball playing's been going.

Game #1 - PUT ME IN COACH

Kris shows up ready to get her swing on. She hasn't been able to extend both arms to wash her hair properly for all 48 hours after a misinformed solo trip to the batting cages. (During said trip a < 10-year-old schmookie IN PINK HELMET actually hit better than she, and Kris briefly considered STUFFING SAID SCHMOOKIE in the trunk of the Sentra. Briefly, people.) Prior to Game 1 someone actually makes a serious comment about how he can help rookies at the batting cages who aren't used to having "balls flying at their faces."

Crickets.

Kris is put at second base because a number 1) apparently that's where the rookie girls are placed, and b number 2) someone heard about her high school hook-up history. She shakes in the field until a ball comes flying her way, and forgetting all she was taught in the 2.4 seconds of practice prior to taking her place in slow-pitch history, neglects to scoop the ball in her glove and instead decides to make the play any way she can. Which translates to stopping it WITH HER SHIN.

The team considers it a success as Kris checks to see if the massive bruise has yet spread to her ovaries.

Game #2 - WHY DO WE PLAY DOUBLE HEADERS AGAIN?

That wasn't the real question. The real question involved something along the lines of "Kris, what would have possessed you to go on a wine tour and drink for the 12 hours prior to standing in the Lawrence of Arabia heat while wearing a three-pound leather mitten?"

Game #3 - AH, YES. THIS IS WHY PEOPLE IN MIAMI DON'T WEAR UNDERWEAR.

94 degrees. Sweat is pretty on birthing mothers, construction workers who aren't holding up your lane of traffic, and Paul Newman, well, at pretty much anytime. Perspiration is not pretty on the Kris.

In Game 3 a mid-week batting cage extravaganza translates into two sweet spot hits that boggle the mind of the Kris, enough to make her FREEZE IN AWE FOR TWO TO THREE SECONDS AFTER HITTING THE BALL BEFORE BEGINNING THE SPRINT TO FIRST BASE.

Kris: Baby Jebus, I hit the ball! Did all y'all see that? (points into left field in slow mo, Bionic Man style.) No really, I hit it!

Team Member 1: Shut your mothergrubbing trap!

First Base Coach: Run, you idiot!

Team Members 2, 5 & 7: What's a blog?

Ho hum. You can't win 'em all.