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(Pictured: President Obama on the FCOTUS)

 

Thanks to everyone who came to last night’s game: Joe, Sterling, Emily, Andrew, Jeff, Bob, Tony, Natasha, Seamus, Naveen, and Imani, especially for not complaining too much while we secured a field, and not yelling at me for picking yesterday to be the day I change cell phones. Also, yesterday saw a pretty big incentive for people who haven’t come to any games yet: getting to hang out with Imani’s baby. Who is a surprisingly good third base coach.

 

What follows is a (mostly) true account of last night’s game. It isn’t as long as it looks.

 

The first half of the contest against the Red Stocks (who hail from the SEC) was, admittedly, not our strongest showing. We only got two or three hits the first time through the lineup and didn’t score until the top of the 4th (thanks to Jeff’s two-run homer). After 4 innings, we were down 8-2. Now, obviously correlation does not equal causation, so I’m certainly not saying our turnaround is a direct result of Joe leaving at this point. “But Jared,” you might say, “Joe was the only person on the team who had hits in his first two at bats.” To which I have a two-fold response: First, how on earth did you know that?! Were you watching the game? Did you sneak into my bag and make a copy of the stat book? Why would you do that? And second, clearly you are not up on your Bill Simmons and his Ewing Theory.

 

Anyway, something clicked in the fifth inning as we put up one of our patented six-run rallies (that’s the fourth time in three games we’ve scored six in a inning) in the fifth to tie the game. We gave three runs back in the bottom of the frame, and then after failing to score in the sixth, allowed another. So. Top of the seventh inning. Down by four runs. We’d only managed to score in two of the prior six innings. Things didn’t look good.

 

Two quick groundouts later, things looked more than somewhat less good. Fortunately, we were entering the heart of the lineup, and a single by Andrew followed by Jeff’s triple gave us some hope. And Bob’s single made things exciting. At this point, things took a turn for the dramatic. A policeman on a bike said that our game would have to be done. A number of things raced through my head at this point: Is he calling it because of the drizzle? No, we played in worse last week. Because the sun had set? Seemed odd. Did the other team get worried and force him to call the game? A distinct possibility. They were from the SEC, I’m sure they could threaten to take away the cop’s 401(k) or something.

 

After the game, Seamus said he “heard” from the other team that when the Presidential helicopter’s flight path (fun fact I might have just learned, the President’s helicopter is Marine One. Personally, I think “Chopper One” has a better ring to it, and would allow for many more Schwarzenegger jokes) runs over the Ellipse they clear the field. (I put “heard” in quotation marks because no one else heard this, so we can’t rule out the possibility that Seamus works for the Secret Service.)

 

Now, immediately after the cop said we had to stop, he quickly said that he got a “standby” and that we could keep playing until that changed. My understanding is that something like the following occurred:

 

FADE IN:

 

INT. MARINE ONE

 

SASHA and MALIA are riding up front, sandwiched between the PILOT and a SECRET SERVICE AGENT. BARACK and MICHELLE are in the back.

 

SECRET SERVICE AGENT

 

Sir, we’re just about back at the White House. One small problem, there are softball players on the Ellipse.

 

BARACK

 

So? Clear them the fu-

 

Michelle shoots him a dirty look. Barack isn’t allowed to swear in front of the kids. They’ve been over this. More than once.

 

BARACK

 

-dge off the field.

 

SECRET SERVICE AGENT

 

Will do.

 

[beat]

 

Sir, I’m being told one of the softball teams is from AARP. Get Off Our Lawn.

 

BARACK

 

Excuse me?

 

SECRET SERVICE AGENT

 

Get Off Our Lawn.

 

BARACK

 

Look, just because they are the greatest and best organization in the country doesn’t mean they can tell the President of the United States to get off their lawn. Get off their lawn? Get off my f**cking lawn!

 

Sasha and Malia giggle. Michelle glances over at Barack. Someone is sleeping on the First Couch of the United States.

 

MICHELLE

 

Honey. That’s their team name. And, I might add, that’s probably the most clever softball name I’ve ever heard. I mean, wow. Whoever came up with that has got to be the most brilliant person in the world.

 

BARACK

 

Well, let’s not get ahead of ourselves, I mean, you’ve met world leaders, Nobel laureates, some of whom might even be sitting in this helicopter.

 

MICHELLE

 

I stand by my original statement.

 

BARACK

 

Regardless, they’ve got to clear out. We need to get home.

 

SASHA

 

What’s the score?

 

SECRET SERVICE AGENT

 

I’m being told AARP is down two runs with two outs in the 7th and a man on first.

 

MALIA

 

Let them play! Let them play!

 

MALIA and SASHA

(in unison)

 

Let them play! Let them play!

 

Malia and Sasha have recently watched Bad News Bears in Breaking Training (clip). Because, obviously.

 

Let them play! Let them play!

 

BARACK

 

Fine. Fine. Just stop. Sheesh. I guess we have some time to kill, who’s up for White Castle?

 

EVERYONE

 

Yaaaaaay!

 

FADE OUT.

 

So, um, anyway, they let us keep playing. Tony was up, and it would be difficult to overestimate how dramatic his shot to center field was. Galloping around the bases as both teams were yelling, Tony slid home a split second before the relay throw came in, his home run tying up the game.

 

The rest of the story, at this point, is pretty much irrelevant, I’d say. But, for completeness, in the bottom of the inning, Naveen made a heck of a circus catch on a comebacker. Next batter turned a dinky single into two bases. Sterling then made a fine catch on a foul popup. And then with two outs, as night was threatening to win its usual victory over daytime, they hit a seeing eye grounder up the middle just out of the reach of pretty much everyone on our team, plating the winning run. I’m not saying the ball was somehow controlled by the President because he still didn’t get the team name, I’m just saying I dare you to prove that wasn’t the case.

 

And, finally, a softball protip (in four easy steps)

 

STEP 1 – Hit the ball.

STEP 2 – You’ve hit the ball. Congrats! Run through first base, turning right after you’ve touched the base. This is important. Don’t run to first base. Don’t curse your firstborn because you popped up. Don’t pause to ponder the infinite mysteries of the universe. Just hit the ball and run through first base. Make sure to touch the base, of course, but don’t stop on the base, stop a few yards after.

STEP 3 – We get probably a dozen or so more hits over the course of the season. Yay!

STEP 4 – When your humble manager inevitably disregards said softball protip, do not call him out on it. He is, undoubtedly, employing some super-secret strategy no one has ever heard of. You wouldn’t understand.

Done