Class-less Tuesday

No piano class tonight so I thought I would recap my wide world of sports this weekend. It might be better labeled wild world of sports simply because of the variety.

On Friday my job required me to work the UC-Georgetown lacrosse game. Lacrosse is a pretty fun sport to watch. I determine a sport being fun to watch based on three criteria:

1. It can’t take very long. Less than two hours is preferred. Lacrosse sometimes is less than an hour and half. That eliminates soccer, most basketball games, baseball and football. But college football doesn’t count because it is awesome and deserves a category of its own. Lacrosse is so time conscience that if one team gets a 10 goal lead, the clock doesn’t stop. That’s like saying – “Hey fans, we love you and won’t torture you with this uneven matchup.”

2. It has to be fast-paced and there needs to be several “wow” moments. Lacrosse players are so unbelievably speedy there’s hardly a chance for things to slow down. Sometimes as strategy or part of a play things will die down a bit but for the most part someone is going to sling that little ball to a teammate and she is going to whip it at the goal. There’s a strong chance of collisions, which is a high priority in terms of making it fun to watch, and if you are lucky enough to see someone score a goal with a behind-the-head shot it’s worth every minute of watching.

3. It needs to be an outdoor sport. I lived in Florida for 10 years and spent way too much time inside. Any chance I get to be outside, especially if it is nice out, I enjoy. Of course my job requires me to be in a press box – which is awesome when it is cold – but simply not being stuck in a room with no windows (like my office in Florida) is a perk.

So Friday’s game went pretty quick, Georgetown is a ranked team, but our kids played hard and the stat crew put in an amazing performance in the press box. That may be the first time anyone has ever stated that in writing. It is tough to explain the difficulty of keeping stats of a game with a ball about the size of a tennis ball – that happens at a pretty fast pace – from nearly a football field away. But we got through it and probably had all of the goals correct.

On Saturday I traveled to Columbus to play golf with a friend, Jen, and one of her friends, Kim. We played a course called Kyber Run, which is pretty much out in the country, and it was a nice, quiet course. I played like normal, a few good hits, way too many putts, a few lost balls. Jen was much better than both Kim and I but Kim, well, she was pure entertainment. Specifically on one hole she had a great drive but we had a little trouble finding it. We went past her ball but once we found it Jen graciously kicked it out of the rough for her. She swung away and went a little right, right under the golf cart. I said she already had her kick out and had to play it where it was but Jen moved the cart. So Kim swung away again, slicing it right into her own cart, hitting the tire so that it bounced back right near her. She finally got into the fairway and then followed me into the water. She dropped near me and hit in the sand trap left of the green. The sand traps weren’t exactly punishment, the ball sat up nicely, so she cranked into it and hit it over the green into the sand trap on the hill. All this happened before she was having trouble concentrating because she pounded three beers in three holes and was desperate to pee. All in all, it was a pretty fun day of golf.

Sunday’s adventure was a game called ultimate Frisbee. I may have played this game one time when I was growing up, but that would have been about 28 years ago. Basically you run back and forth constantly. I learned quickly not to throw the Frisbee high in the air – although no one else seemed to pick up on that trick – because it makes it difficult to determine where it might land. I did not quickly learn how to throw the Frisbee low, but not for lack of trying. One attempt resulted in me spinning around and falling to the ground. It was really fun though and surprisingly no one got hurt. Impressive since a lot of us could be labeled weekend warriors.

Yesterday I began softball. I was excited to start playing even though we play on quite possibly the roughest fields I’ve ever seen. I am grateful for the opportunity to play, but I was pretty spoiled in Florida, especially in regards to field conditions. But these fields are close to home and they sort of did some upgrades, so maybe soon I can vote them into the nearly acceptable category.

I played with this team last year and everyone is around my age and super nice. I was much more comfortable this time around and I kept thinking I have talked to more people in the warm-up than I did all season last year. So they put me at bat second and I was terrible. I mean everyone shifted since I’m a lefty and I tried way too hard to hit the third baseline and it was just sad. Next time up, worse, but I got on with an error. Next two times up – just bad. I’m talking one of my Top-3 worst performances.

Just after high school, the first time I ever played slow-pitch I was confused by all the overweight man-looking women and unable to adjust to the slowness of the game. I don’t think I even connected on a pitch. That’s number one. Number two, I played in a tournament in Florida on an all-female team. I always play co-ed (probably after my first slow-pitch experience), so this was new. And it was a small-ball tournament with no bat restrictions. I had never seen a woman hit a softball out of a slow-pitch softball field and the team we played just kept doing it. It was like 400 degrees, the outfield was barely grass, the tournament was near the beach so it was hot and windy and I flat-out was intimidated by these average sized women just crushing the ball with their magic bats. I played horribly.

So last night was number three. It was completely embarrassing and somewhat disturbing that I struggled so badly to make decent contact. I did play well in the field, but the hitting – I just have to find a batting cage soon.

And that’s it. My wild weekend of sports.

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