WIZARD  •  July 15th, 2020

ROSE CITY – Sometimes a dipshit walks onto their field, takes in a lung full of air and thinks, “Today’s the day that makes the whole week worth it.” Perhaps that dipshit twiddles his fingers together. “There’s magic in this field and I shall make designs to use it.” Perhaps even this dipshit brandishes a bat as if it were a staff and cackles, “There’s glory ‘neath this slab and I plan to mine it!”

Sad to say that this Wizard suffered from Magical Projectile Dysfunction if you catch my drift. I flubbed at the plate more than Michael J Fox trying to eat fried rice with chopsticks. It was nearly as cruel a twist of fortune as the episode that occurred only hours previous where I nearly soiled my robes while attempting to purchase Penn balls (worry not, friends, as I had needed only to run home to “battle the balrog” in the safety of my shire and return, dignity largely intact). Ahem. But enough about the bowels of this wizened gentleman! The game is afoot!

The first of twenty-seven innings commenced, once our ranks were filled with heroes and man-whores alike. It was an absolute slaughter, the Hearts embarrassing the Diamonds at every turn. Wanderer, whose hands are generally known to be rather sticky, puffed too much of the Shire’s herb too quickly, and let several balls slip through his fingers. Before the Hearts’  attained a full close-out (embarrassing the Diamonds with a goose egg against 11 runs), Fellowship--who’d been serving his Hearts a meatball buffet-- called a “Pig Break!” 

Verily, Fellowship’s closest 4H homie (it is assumed), began wielding two adorable little piglets! And what’s more, would let any of our sluggers to carry and nestle these babies in their arms. Their snouts were wet and their widdle hooves went slack as they nestled into sleep upon our necks. But while the novelty of holding freshly born swine waned, the promise of freshly minted glory upon the slab proved more magnetic. 

Wanderer was able to slap a homer across the wall, making the first game 11-1, Hearts. 

Friends, it is not the scores of the day (favoring Hearts in triplicate), but rather the home run count that brings a tear to my eye. Sluggers added many to the bomb tally this day, both old and new. Trees (aka the Wooden Weapon) broke the seal first, and added two more to his tally. We had a first-timer out there on the Slab and boy did he show up to slap some goddamn Penns. The Son of Stickball (aka Punk House on the Left) recruited a beast of a rookie by the name of Nasty Nate. He stands at 12’ tall and buttressed the Hearts’ strategy to squeeze the glory lemon dry. Nate ended the day with two home runs in play and a flurry of brick-breaking laser line drives to the wall and the forgotten man’s land of deep right field. 

But let us not forget The Professor, who was prophesied to hit a donger this week in the invite. Apparently when the Professor (aka Teach aka Scantron aka ManSplain aka Chaucer Side Note) is not grading papers, he’s working on fucking up balls skyward. The Professor took us to school and showed us a textbook two run homer, chalking the first of his career into the slate. 

Not to be outdone by a couple of freshies, the Wanderer showed up, knocking a total of six ding-dang-aroos for the goddamn day. Our BK OG showed us all the true glory bounty one can collect Slabside. 

Speaking of bounty, a mystery woman, holding a misting cup of tea, appeared atop the roof that cradles the dongs of many a dipshit run home like some sylph upon the craggy peaks of Dong Mountain. She blessed us with a bountiful harvest of dingers long since struck, raining us with sun-bleached “freshies” to invigorate the game.

Rest assured there wasn’t only glory at the plate, there were some glory-deniers standing in the outfield. Son of Stickball (AKA Son-day Bloody Son-day) was one of those dipshits, with fingers stickier than Wynona Ryder in a shop full of bejeweled, nostalgic boners. The bloody one showed us all how to lock a would-be gloryhound in the basement, swallowing the key in a grotesque and unnecessary demonstration. Lobster not only brought the claws out, but showed us how far he was willing to scurry his Lobdaddy legs through an ocean of grass to rob himself an run… And not to toot my own fife, but even this Wizard was able to summon the clarity and strength required to hit the double-play can, the Slabyard’s second in its three year history.

I think we all learned that fateful Sunday is if your feeling down on yourself about your skills in the field or at bat, that glory can be had 69 ways and there are 420 possibilities for fun.     

G1: Hearts: 2, Diamonds: 13
G2: Diamonds: 9, Hearts: 7
G3: Hearts 9, Diamonds 12 

HRs: Trees 3, Rookie Nate 2, Lobstah 3, Wanderah 6, AO 1, Professor 1, Pickle Rickle 1

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