Jorts Or Die: The Opposite Of Dry

Wet. That's it. It was dry and then it was wet. The skies in Philly decided to open up slightly in the semis, and then fully open the faucet for the finals. It was by far the wettest kickball playoff game I can remember. The mound started to flood. Third base became a pit. First base turned into quicksand. The ball turned into a glass bauble you couldn't grab or literally do anything with . The whole park was beyond Thunderdome. It was marvelous.

We had a bunch of firsts in a night loaded with nostalgia. Our first female designated hitter. Props to Bre bunkering down on the bench wrapped in a towel under the only umbrella, refusing to do anything but bat because she was present and had to for the sake of rules. That's a serious Boss. Donna played every inning in what I believe is her first championship. Very, very nice. (Good luck on the exam, even though you don't need it) It might have been the first medal we won with our Skip on vacation in sunny sunny Mexico? Leanne better be eating her weight in burritos... A ball got over Gavin's head and slipped out of his hands... Hell, that man even slid into home plate during a bang/bang play and didn't even rupture a tendon or compound fracture a bone. Fascinating. Speaking of slides, there were slides all over the place. Double cleats up slide into second? Why not. Head fucking first into home plate? Hell yeah! (He was thrown out though on a lights out relay from Greg). The weather turned what is usually a deathtrap of a field into a no injury wonderland.

Anyway, all the guys we played on both teams were at least 6'5". I can only assume they eat the bones of smaller people. Everyones' jorts weighed a collective and soaking 400lbs. It was wild. For the first time in a very long time both teams we faced employed female pitchers the entire game. Wait your team doesn't want to be a bunch of wankers and pitch the ball 50 mph in a co-ed league? You seriously want everyone to be able to hit? Good for you guys. When I commented on this fact in the finals, the third basemen literally said, "yeah, it should be a defensive struggle, not a pitching contest...". Bravo. It's nice to see at least some teams don't want Philly kickball to turn in DC kickball. Speaking of pitching, KimP killed it on the mound, only allowing really one good hit in 14 collective innings. The ref has been cracking down on the "junk" being piped down the lane, phenomenal job either way for throwing in three inches of muddy water.

As for the nostalgia part, all I could think of was how much the Ghost of Jacob would have loved this game...shanking one hit after another into the air. It was an instant classic. Im not lying when I say I could literally hear Juliet yelling at Jared from the mound:

Juliet: I'm wet...Its raining...
Jared: Just pitch the ball!
Juliet: Fuck you!#$%@#
.....game stops for 15 minutes as heated argument ensues and everyone stands in the rain....

So it was and will be...correct me if Im wrong old Gods of the Jorts, but I believe that's #15. We didn't record #14 because...well...we just didn't. And we bowed out last session in the semis cause we were coming off an 8 straight championship streak in two different leagues. We finally lost the hunger, and were long overdue for a loss. But the Jorts are back! And we took it in a monsoon! Godamn! Dorts are back! Well...at least for the moment. I gotta hang dry this uniform out. Seriously, never wash your jorts...never.

And you all looked very pulchritudinous last night in the rain....