Walk It Off

We slipped into the finals after Walkfest 2017, where both teams walked in a ton of runs in the final innings.  The ball was literally a big red egg, and with the field being the lumpiest thing this side of my pants.  Pitching straight was near impossible.  Anyway, we played Kiet's team in the finals, and squeaked out a win for number 16.  Congratulations to Kiet's team, who've quickly become a force to be reckoned with.  I'm sure we'll be seeing you again in the post season in the coming months.  I'm also sure that probably after an argument on a close foul ball or after someone getting run over at first base, our teams will become arch enemies.  So we have that to look forward to as well.  On another note, I've seen my first pair of pink jorts....damn!

 

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....

Not a dry dort in the house

 Look at that baseline swamp...

Chelsey...hahah

 Now that is a champion

Yeah bite that medal!

Drying out

 Leave you with a parting shot of Greg

And a parting shot of Pita...that killer

Cherry Springs

Some of us decided to drive 5 hours north to stargaze at Cherry Springs State Park.  Little did we know it was going to pour the entire weekend.  Which meant there was zero stars to be seen both nights.  However, the inside of my tent stayed mostly dry and the park itself was beautiful.   Nice hiking trails and a wonderful layout to view the galaxy just added to the awesomeness.  Anyway, we plan to go back.

As Is Tradition...

After vanquishing the #1 seed in the semi finals (9-1...what happened there?), the Jorts faced a familiar foe in the finals.  The competition was a fierce, hungry, and well matched adversary.  Similar lineups, positioning and hitting style created a final for the ages, as the lead changed multiple times on great hits, costly errors and gutsy base running.  Truth be told, that juiced and mostly round kickball ruled the night, allowing for quick throws and searing hits.  Sadly we won 6-5 on a walk in run, which is no way to win a championship.  However, with the bases loaded, at the end of the day, you still need to get the ball somewhat near the plate.  We don't believe in bunting and Mike would have kicked it if it was anywhere near the zone.  Not to mention we were away and the other team had a chance to tie it up in the bottom of the 7th, which they almost did, as we recorded the final out with the bases packed.  Anyway, big shout outs to Corinn, our finals MVP for a badly needed monster hit that drove in a couple RBIs, to Bre for being our super solid swing player and filling in all season long (I believe she needs to go on a date with Fuckface McSniffHair if she doesn't fully join), and to Bob for his last run.  He unbelievably went 6-0 over 2 years and several different fields.  If that's not a hall of fame stat i don't know what is.  Plus he only fired like 2 or 3 people from the team, which I'm sure must have been the toughest part for him.  

 Every once and a while kickball gets real.  That's what #11 looks like...that and Jake's back...I'll miss Cletus when he's gone...

Put It On The Blog

Against all predictions, the Jorts, coming in at the 7th seed, somehow battled the semi-cold? and mud to capture number 9.  Put that in your blog and smoke it.

Oh, and for good measure, and here's number 8! (I think anyway?)

Numero Siete

And that's how it came to pass, that on the second-to-last day of the work week, the kickball crew that tarred the plate factory roof in the spring of '15 wound up sitting in a row at nine o'clock in the evening, drinking icy cold vodka style water, courtesy of the newest manager that ever rounded a base at Roberto Clemente State Prison...I mean Roberto Clemente Field...The colossal prick even managed to sound magnanimous. We sat and drank with the moon on our shoulders and felt like free men. Hell, we could have been playing kickball at one of our own houses. We were the Lords of all Creation. As for Coach, he spent that break hunkered in the shade, a strange little smile on his face, watching us drink his vodka...You could argue he'd done it to curry favor with the ref, or maybe make a few friends among us players. Me, I think he did it just to feel normal again, if only for a short while.

MOVE OVER MJ, YOU GOT COMPANY! JORTS WIN AGAIN!

In a year full of ebbs and flows, Salute Your Jorts once again solidified its claim as the best in class.  Left for dead in the spring of 2014 and forced to abandon an undefeated season at the hands of the league, the Jorts finished out the fall season with no one left to beat. 

Hungry for a title after a disappointing loss in the summer session championship, first year captain Skipper Mitchell proved himself as the right man for the job.  In leading Salute Your Jorts to the championship, he can now boast sweet victory along with his predecessors.  The Jorts took an early lead in the top of the first and never looked back.  Small ball was the key to success in a 4-1 defeat of the #1 seed in the regular season.  Gavin Lotz Kaiser made his presence known after a brief absence from the team.  His chatter and relentless base running rallied the Jorts and befuddled the opponent in its attempt at a comeback.

After the game, fans were chanting "Six! Six! Six!", in honor of the Jorts sixth championship.

How sweet it is.

I believe this is in the budget for next year: