Sunday, May 30, 2004
Cubs right now = bad. Cubs Embargo = good. Try it, friends, at least until Nos. 21, 22, and 34 return. As Cubs fans, we take the good with the bad, but the bad is a lot easier to take when we don't pay too much attention to it. I still have faith, as should you.
I played a whole shitload of wiffleball yesterday. This was excellent. Part of the fun of backyard wiffleball is taking it way too seriously, and I was able to do this for the better part of 4 hours on another pretty nice spring Saturday. The highlight had to be the abbreviated 3-inning game played at the end of the day, which featured a sterling pitching duel (involving yours truly) and some extra-innings drama that ended when a clutch 2-out double by Adam Bolur drove in the winning run. We rejiggered the groundrules for this final game, and were quite satisfied with the results: scoring dropped from 30+ runs a game to under 5, and the field rewarded hard-hit liners instead of nubbed grounders and flyballs as it had previously. Good times.
In other sports news, I have actually acquired the ability to throw a breaking pitch. Yes, it's with a wiffleball, and yes, it's sad that I hadn't previously figured it out, but I now throw a tumbling slider that will frankly make you check yourself if you're a righthanded batter. Like many righties, I am still trying to figure out how to get lefties out, but wiffleball affords me the chance to put into practice theories about baseball to which I never gave a passing thought when I was actually playing.
FYI, the King of known wiffleball pitchers in my experience is Rick Bach, a tough, tough lefty who dominates with filthy, made-up breaking pitches and great command. If your plate coverage is not exceptional, you will not hit him at all. Rick: you are a bastard.
That's it for today. I need to eat some yogurt.
I played a whole shitload of wiffleball yesterday. This was excellent. Part of the fun of backyard wiffleball is taking it way too seriously, and I was able to do this for the better part of 4 hours on another pretty nice spring Saturday. The highlight had to be the abbreviated 3-inning game played at the end of the day, which featured a sterling pitching duel (involving yours truly) and some extra-innings drama that ended when a clutch 2-out double by Adam Bolur drove in the winning run. We rejiggered the groundrules for this final game, and were quite satisfied with the results: scoring dropped from 30+ runs a game to under 5, and the field rewarded hard-hit liners instead of nubbed grounders and flyballs as it had previously. Good times.
In other sports news, I have actually acquired the ability to throw a breaking pitch. Yes, it's with a wiffleball, and yes, it's sad that I hadn't previously figured it out, but I now throw a tumbling slider that will frankly make you check yourself if you're a righthanded batter. Like many righties, I am still trying to figure out how to get lefties out, but wiffleball affords me the chance to put into practice theories about baseball to which I never gave a passing thought when I was actually playing.
FYI, the King of known wiffleball pitchers in my experience is Rick Bach, a tough, tough lefty who dominates with filthy, made-up breaking pitches and great command. If your plate coverage is not exceptional, you will not hit him at all. Rick: you are a bastard.
That's it for today. I need to eat some yogurt.
