I hate quitting things. Even in the worst situations, I try to stick things out as long as humanly possible, look for the silver lining, and all that crap. In certain cases, I'll abandon ship quickly if gut instinct is screaming at me to do so. It's never with a cavalier attitude that I make such a decision. I've got the one-two punch of Irish-Catholic guilt and the daughter-of-a-Teamster work ethic (exnay on the union jokes. I'm originally from Jersey and
I know people. Capiche?).
Now what was I saying? Right... quitting. I don't like to do it. However, I feel that I may need to uproot myself once again. Not in terms of my job, relationships, apartment or anything like that. This dilemma pertains to something much more important: corporate slow-pitch softball.
I HATE MY TEAM. They are the worst bunch of obnoxious fucking bastards I've ever the had the misfortune to share a dugout with. It's a co-ed team comprised of various men and women (mostly men) from two interrelated departments in my enormous company. There are several softball teams floating around under the same name but we're in different divisions and never square off. My team is made up of mostly IT guys, internet techies and programmers. You know... not traditionally the most athletic types.
Because of the popularity of computers and our reliance on the trained people who understand the innards of these things, the tide has shifted you might say. The people who excel in this field were often viewed as the nerds in school and perhaps they got picked on. I understand that and I feel for them. However, their need to retaliate now is often aimed at those of us who never once knocked the books out of their hands or shoved them in a locker. Don't crucify me for the sins of the football team! If my computer repeatedly has a system failure, you need to deal with it in a professional and courteous manner and go passive-aggressively work out your issues elsewhere.
It would seem that the time has come to pass when they are getting the payback they dreamt about for years. Fist-shaking declarations made while dislodging the underwear firmly wedged into their ass cracks or uttered while playing Dungeons and Dragons with fellow misfits on a Saturday night are coming to fruition. To them, it's go time.
Do they administer purple nurples in return? No. They refrain from giving wet willies and Indian rug burn. Instead, they treat us like shit when we ask a computer-related question. These fuckers belittle us and suggest restarting whether the computer is frozen or if the thing's smoking and on the verge of blowing up. They tsk and sigh when asked to slowly repeat the mouthful of jargon they just haughtily spewed. Some of them are real dickheads, plain and simple. I know a lot of nice tech people and they're helpful and wonderful so please don't think I lump the lot of them into the same category. Not true. I'm referring to the unhelpful, condescending ones.
Now just imagine this attitude on the softball field. I can only guess that some of these people on my team sucked in organized sports and were the bench warmers and the last ones picked in gym class. I can't say I relate because um, hello? I'm a lesbo and I kick ass in most sports! HOO WA! Want to see my letters? But as I was saying, this meathead-like, boorish behavior can only be attributed to the fact that they are perhaps trying to rid themselves of some childhood trauma and scarring... while playing on the company team. Go do it in a shrink's office like the rest of us, assholes! I am not exaggerating when I say that these are deplorable conditions to play under.
In sports, it's an unwritten rule that smack-talking, conceit and immodesty are somewhat acceptable as long as the player has the goods to back it up. In other words, if you're going to squawk at people incessantly and remind them to play "tight D" (Jess, can we add that to the
list?), please make sure you're competent and capable of executing such things yourself. Call me overly sensitive but when I'm throwing runners out, sliding into bases to break up double plays and driving in runs, I'd thank the team's sure-out not to offer suggestions on how to improve my game.
We have a loud-mouthed catcher and self-appointed team manager who um, can't catch, throw, hit, run, etc. She'll tell people to "call their catches" and will give them what for if an error is made, yet she hasn't caught a single pitch thrown to her. And she's the catcher!!! I say yank her and just let the backstop do its thing. The batter can kick the ball back to the pitcher or, as is often the case, the umpire can catch it barehanded and toss it back. The girl sucks. Bench her sorry ass! She told MOI -- the person who went 2 for 3 and slid into two bases thereby distracting the fielder while allowing runs to score -- to change bats after the one at-bat where I flied out and didn't reach base. Um, thanks. Perhaps I
WILL go with the heavier 34... when I ram it up your ass sideways, Sucky. That's one suggestion I'll happily take.
She prattles on endlessly telling others what they're doing wrong and how to improve their swing, fielding, etc. Again, no ball sticks in her mitt nor has she ever hit her way onto base. She has the most horrendous batting stance and don't even get me started on her swing.
And then there's her partner in crime... a boy who fancies himself an ace pitcher and intimidating home run hitter. To my knowledge, he's the only person on the team besides the Sucky Loud-mouthed Catcher who has whiffed at the plate.
In slow pitch softball. As far as his pitching goes, he walks EVERYBODY. And it must be said that he has really bad hair. It's totally dry and damaged yet he keeps it at a puffy length. It's just awful. When he's giving someone a tongue-lashing, I have to restrain myself from saying in return, "Can I interest you in some softball lessons and perhaps a hot oil treatment?" Note: If you add an element of cattiness to your trashtalking, it works wonders. And to review from
an earlier post, when all else fails, call your victim a "booger-eating moron."
Now as I was saying, the gruesome twosome suck to high heaven and despite their lack of skill, they unabashedly criticize and chastise other players, argue with the umps and sometimes even get into it with the other team. It's mortifying and appalling. It's corporate softball and it's supposed to be fun and light-hearted but sadly, it's the opposite. I just don't understand getting all bent out of shape over it. Sure, no one wants to lose but if you do, who gives a fuck? No one is waiting to ship off the dead weight to the minors for not performing well. Simmer, people.
Sucky announced proudly after the game that despite the lopsided score (we were trounced), we are going to win because she's filing a protest. A PROTEST! She's irked about some minor infraction in the rules so she plans on raising quite a stink with the governing agency. And her goofy minions -- my teammates -- applauded. I don't want to win a game like that. Who the fuck cares? As if whining, pissing and moaning over calls throughout the game aren't bad enough, now she's going to bitch via fax and email. I hate them. Hate them, I tell you. HATE THEM.
But what
really raised my ire was the fact that Sucky Loud-mouthed Catcher made a point of standing up and waving in the outfielders whenever a girl got up to bat. She was obnoxiously yelling, "Move in guys! Play shallow, everyone!" That's just wrong. Why not just say, "Everyone, may I have your attention please? This girl sucks and it will be a miracle if she sets foot on first base. Just start heading to the dugout now. It's a sure out." Even though the batter was not on my team, I wanted her to suddenly get a jolt of inspiration and brute strength and launch one into the outfield over everyone's heads. If she did, I would have high-fived her as she rounded the bases.
Not that it's ever okay to belittle opponents but again, if you're going to play the role of obnoxious jock -- and I can't stress this enough -- please don't suck. It's kind of a requirement, I think. So, I called them on it. I'm not very popular amongst my teammates tonight because I took exception and told Sucky and the Puffy-Haired Whiffer that I found their behavior to be lacking in class and good sportsmanship. And Puffy got in my face about it. He was super agitated and midway through his tirade about the weaker sex and reasons why it's okay to expect less from female athletes, I turned my back on him and walked away.
Puffy, when I dislodge the bat from Sucky's ass, it's going up yours. I was not trying to be the Billie Jean King to his Bobby Riggs (although he made Riggs look like a mild-mannered feminist in comparison, the colossal douche bag that he is.) I'm talking about decent behavior on the playing field. He suggested it was strategy similar to players shifting over when a lefty gets up. The fuck it is! If they think the girl batter is so weak and incapable of hitting anything with even an ounce of force, why do they need reinforcements from the outfield? I play various positions in the infield. Based on the stance of the batter, previous at-bats, etc., I make adjustments. I'll move to the left or the right, I'll play in if it looks like a bunt situation or I'll back up if I know the batter is going to belt one my way. That's strategy. Me moving in and standing next to the pitcher when a nervous-looking woman gets to bat up is not. If they wanted to play in, whatever... Just don't make a big production out of it. I'm sure it embarrassed the woman. Or maybe I'm just being overly sensitive. Regardless, I still think it's a shitty way to behave.
If a boy creeps in on me the first time I step up to the plate, he learns quickly NOT to do that again. Just ask the boys from the 5th grade in my grammar school. My 6th grade class played them in an intramural softball game. The third baseman made quite the scene as he moved in thinking I was an easy out. It's a wonder he's not sporting capped teeth thanks to my line drive that made a beeline for his smirking face. You can also check in with the band of assholes from some investment bank who yelled "Infield in!" and waved in their outfielders when I stepped into the box last season. Um, yeah... that bases-clearing double I roped quickly learned 'em.
So do I quit? The team doesn't want me to because I can actually play. Do I spite them and leave them short one girl or is it better for me to show up and continue to play well and with class? If they were loud-mouthed dumb jocks, this wouldn't bother me so much. But the fact that the stench of suck can be traced directly to the two most obnoxious people on the team just doesn't sit right with me. What to do? What to do?
Labels: personal affronts, softball
