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Kick some serious ass, and don't forget to take names

Holy shiza. I can't believe we did that.

I won't keep you in suspense...but today...(Dramatic pause)...I quit fastpitch softball.

I'll start at the beginning.

Yesterday we had our first official slowpitch game (aka for my father's team). I went, because honestly--how can you not go to your own father's game? Not to mention, the fastpitch game was a make-up that we didn't know about until last week. So we--my older sister Devyn, a friend of mine named Ashley--went to our slowpitch game. After all, my dad needed us and we would've had to forfeit if we didn't have enough girls to play.

So we sort of ditched the fastpitch game. But it was NBD, seriously. Ashley NEVER plays in a fastpitch game. She sits the bench EVERY game, yet shows up for every practice, all the time. So naturally she's going to go to the game where she gets a chance to play, and not to mention she's good at it. My sister, on the other hand, is a senior. She's paid her dues. She's kept a pretty clean attendance record over the last four years, and has never let slowpitch and fastpitch interfere. Me? Well, I play sometimes, but I wouldn't go as far to say I'm starting varsity. Point is, we've never used slowpitch as an excuse for attendance. Never.

We were absent yesterday. Today, we had our second to last game--with a pizza party afterwards. We did all of our warm-ups and were just about to go hit the light-flights when the coaches called the three of us over to the bench. We knew what it was all about, we weren't going to play stupid.
So on the bench, four out of FIVE coaches got in all of our faces and yelled at us. I was so pissed at that moment, I thought I was going to pick up one of the double-wall bats and slam someone with it. (Like I would EVER do something like that!) Here is what they said to us, in a nutshell. And I'm not exaggerating.
You've disappointed all of us.
We're pissed you chose slowpitch over fastpitch.
We don't give a rat's ass about slowpitch.
You made a prior commitment to this team.
You need to apologize to your teammates.
And I quote!--"It's as if you've stuck a knife in me and TWISTED it."
I swear to LORD JESUS CHRIST! They said all of those things. I'm not stretching the truth or making it sound worse than it is for the sake of press. After all, we wrote it ALL DOWN.

I would like to point out, we did make a commitment to fastpitch, no doubt. But we also made a commitment to slowpitch around the same time (sign-ups for both teams are in January). They tend to call slowpitch "Baby-ball" because we don't do the same things as them, and most girls that join slowpitch have never played before in their lives. Which, I might add, is even more incentive to help THEM out. Sure, our fastpitch team hasn't won a game all season. But the girls on that team have deserved it less and less. They're awful and bitchy and GAWDawful, I swear. The funniest thing was how they thought we should apologize. LIKE THEY FUCKING CARE! They didn't even NOTICE we were gone!

The coaches brought up how we missed Kara's--a first timer--hit against the best pitcher in the league. Well, the point I'd like to make is that if we had been there, Kara wouldn't have even gotten in the game. Call me a bitch, but she's played just about as much as Ashley has. If they were trying to guilt us into apologizing, they took the wrong route.

SO, what we did. Devyn, Ashley and I started over to apologize to the team--then Devyn got a better idea. She looked at Ashley and said, "Do you want to leave?"
Ashley was a bit shocked for a minute, and couldn't really say anything. I said, "I'm going." Because how else would I have gotten a ride home? So Ashley agreed. We went over, packed up our bags, and started towards the car when the coach said:
"We would like it if you returned your uniforms on time and cleaned, please. THANK YOU, bye!"
And it sucks too, because that was the coach I liked--until he rejoined the ranks and decided to be a two-faced jackass.

We drove back to Ashley's house, where we fidgeted with excited/nervous energy. Devyn and I called our parents, who have seen the opressive nature of coaches in this school district and were pleased that we finally had the moxie to do something about it. Ashley's parents, on the other hand, didn't back her up at all. We waited with her for an hour in case she needed us to talk to her parents. We spoke with her mother before we left, but we're certain that her father's blowing a fuse. He was very angry. They both are. I mean, I see their side. They think they have a daughter that quits at everything (apparently she had quit cheerleading earlier this year) and can't make a commitments. Well, I think that she made a HELLUVA commitment by showing up to practices and games for a team she didn't even play on. I can see why she jumped at the opportunity to play with the slowpitch team. I gotta give her kudos for that. She was really upset when we left, I hope her father didn't chew her out too badly...
But think about it--we [slowpitch] actually had a chance at winning--and we did! And if I may, the girls on slowpitch tend to have better attitudes. :)

Oy gevalt! That was one hell of a post. I think it's sufficient for my absence, non?

Okay, now to answer the question I posted the other day. I think the gal who answered it best was Alex, aka
hellocello. She copied and pasted something or other about the dude who created the sandwich, which is just as good of an answer. Sort of.

So, what IS in a Hillel sandwich?!?

I'm glad you asked! Three main things: Matzah, Charoset, and Morar.

Don't forget to make the weird noise for Charoset, like Chanukah.

"Kick. Some. Tuchis!"

Comments

Emma said…
okay, i know nothing about softball or sports in general...but...
wow. that sounded like it sucked.
SalGal said…
ROCK ON!!! That was SO out of line, what they did! I'd bring it up to the administration, but I'm bitchy like that.

Toodles!
Alex said…
HECK YES!!!!! what a way to be... awesome!!!!

oh and "sort of" a good answer?! SORT OF?!!?!? hello! i did some mega-hard work pressing copy and paste! god!

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