Kickball

On Labor day, I told the Daniels' that I would be on their kickball team. I grew up watching these people play baseball with my parents every summer. Me and my cousins would sit around on the bleachers slurping freeze pops and daring each other to eat fish flies while they played their double headers. The team was old then. It was not uncommon for someone's legs to buckle on their way to first. 15 years since they put down the bat, they are back together at Kyte Monroe once again. And now, the game is just plain dangerous for them.

The first inning of the first game of kickball in the history of St. Claire Shores recreation went well for us. Most of the team had not played since grade school, (1960's for some of them). Besides some mild complaints about sciatica, sore legs, and stiff backs, we were doing pretty good and were actually ahead of the other team. But then Michael pulled his groin pitching. And George bloodied his knee sliding onto third. Jenny was tackled by someone at second. Another couple of knees were scraped, Micheal began to loose feeling in his left leg, Mary began to develop a limp, and things started to go south for us. We were beaten in the first game and mercied in the second. The whole time, Marge was on our backs to run faster, catch the fly balls, kick farther, etc.

The first game really wore our team out. I could not sleep that night because my kicking foot kept cramping up. People were still aching by the time our second game came around. Jenny had somehow sprained her leg last time, and she was first at bat. After she kicked the ball, which went about 6 feet, she began to limp/ hop towards second. First out. Next came Mary, later to be known by the other team as 'the bunter'. She swung and missed the first pitch. When she managed to get the ball into play, she limped to first clutching her leg. Second out. Now came George. He had arrived late, and when he got to the dugout was immediately send to the plate. One of our toughest players last game, we were all looking to George to redeem us. He had a great kick (it went past the mound!), but it took everything. He, too, staggered off the diamond, limping and wincing. But unlike the others, George did not stop at the bench. He stopped at the ER.

Things continued like this for the rest of the night. Michael went to his truck for a beer to help with the pain half way through the second game. I can't imagine what will happen next week. But playing with the Daniels sure beats winning!