Am I Playing Walkball?

This weekend we strutted our stuff once again on the kickball field, and lemme tell ya, people, our team is the coolest. We've got so much heart, they should make a movie about us called the Bad News Li-bear-ians. (Don't think I mean the Bad News Liberians, because I don't. And if I have to hear one more time that you thought the Michael Jackson song was "Librarian Girl" instead of "Liberian Girl," get over it. All librarian-girls think that song is about us. And it's not. Unless you're Liberian. Then maybe).

Here's what I love about our team. We give it our all, all the time. We don't care if we look stupid (which, sometimes, you have to in kickball) and we don't pussyfoot around. We are there to PLAY, and have fun, and we don't gripe when the ump calls a play against us, and we don't sulk when things don't go our way. Ok, so we haven't actually WON a game. I always feel as though we have, because we laugh a lot, and kick whatever we can, and cheer each other on. Is that schmaltzy? Do you hear the Rocky theme song as you're reading this? Oh well, so it's schmaltzy. Whatevah.

So let me give you potential and current kickballers out there some pointers. You may ask yourself, who am I to hand out pointers. (You may also find yourself living in a shotgun shack, but we'll talk about that later). I would argue that I am equipped to give out pointers on a special kickball skill set. I can show you, not how to win a kickball game, but how to play a kickball game. There is a difference. Maybe you can have them both at the same time. But if you have to choose, trust me, my way is better. Do you want to have fun, or do you want to win? Fun-chasers, these pointers are for you.

First pointer is for the ladies. Especially for you ladies playing on a team with boys. Don't be a dainty bunter. Just don't. DON'T. Don't let the proximity of the burly boys on your team intimidate you. You've got lots of lower body strength, and even if you don't, who the hell cares? It's kickball, and that red rubber ball has your foot's name on it. I'm seeing it happen over and over again with the femmes on the teams we play against. The girls get up to the plate, tee-hee bashful coy blush blush, the ball is pitched to them, and --toes pointed up like Esther Williams-- tap! The bunt. Now, I'm not saying there aren't times to strategically use the bunt, if it's really called for. But there is an epidemic of women who are bunting every damn time. Every time. Come ON. Sistahs are kickin' it fo' themselves! You can do it! It's more fun to kick the crap out of that ball. It IS. I'll take you out for tea after the game and we can be delicate all we want then. But for now, don't be a bunt broad.

Second pointer. If the ball is pitched to you, and it curves to the point where it would be hard for you to kick it, then let it pass. But if it is pitched to you and it almost, ALMOST goes over the plate, but it doesn't just by a hair, then KICK IT. Don't LOOK for a reason not to kick the ball. Some of you kickballers that we've played are just letting everything pass. Good, bad, medium. It's like you're wanting, at all costs, to AVOID that ball. Just so you can get a walk. We've played people that just keep loading up the bases by letting balls pass and then they take a leisurely stroll from base to base. Half the game is eaten up by ya'll doing this. Ok, so then there's no kicking, there's no running, there's no catching, there's no throwing. How is this fun? Where's the action? Is your team called the Slothballers? You want some Cheetos while you're letting all those passable pitches go by? We'll just be here in the outfield, taking a nap.

Those are my two biggest pieces of advice I can give you for today. If you forget them, just sing this to the tune of "Once in a Lifetime," to remind yourself what not to do. "Letting the balls go by, bunting 'em low to the ground..."

Oh-- I thought of another one. Third pointer. Don't be an ass. You may think this goes without saying. If you do, then chances are I'm preaching to the choir. If you don't, then, hey, teacher! Leave those kids alone. Don't sulk. Don't yell at your teammates if they mess up. Cool it with the haterade. Please. It's not dickball.

Do like my awesome teammates do. Be like JB, who kicked the ball like a cannon and tweaked her leg just a bit, but played the game anyway and cheered the rest of us on through every inning. Or like Nordic Boy, who will go for the ball in the outfield with so much gusto that he doesn't give a good god damn if he eats some dirt or not. Or like Jenny, who played first base and got three people out in quick succession, including one beauty of a play where she bounced the ball off of her boobs right into the oncoming runner, thus pegging him out in a fanciful style.

Those are my pointers for kickball fun. Remember when you were a kid, and kickball was the one game in gym that everyone could at least play a little bit? It wasn't like dodgeball, where most of us ran for our lives as two or three hard-throwers picked us off like clay pigeons. It wasn't like basketball, soccer, or hockey, where no one passed to you if you couldn't cut it. It wasn't like baseball, where you had to have some sort of, well, coordination to make the bat hit the ball. This is kickball. The team sport that gives every little kid a chance. And now it can give any grown-up a chance. Same as it ever was.

Kiss the rings, I'm out.
Librarian Girl