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FacebookThe most unrealistic thing about “2012” is that the producers expected us to believe a black man could be voted president in the United States.
Damn. That joke woulda been a lot funnier two years ago.
I think I might be a softball snob. I’ve been playing the game for so long, I have so many expectations and ideals that few people can live up to. I don’t want to go around thinking I’m better than anyone else. I don’t enjoy feeling like something is below me or inferior. But when I see a softball that doesn’t live up to my standards I’m horrified.
During the summer we brought a new guy out to our Thursday night softball team. He had an ad on Craigslist and I figured, why not? Dude said he had experience and could play an “ugly shortstop” if we desperately needed. He sounded like a great fit for our team because he seemed like a good guy and we have always valued character over talent on our team.
But when he came out to the game, it was painfully obvious he was not a good player. His mechanics were terrible, he made bad decisions on the basepaths, and his shortstop was so ugly that it never got a date in high school. I mean, I know I can’t play shortstop. I would never tell anyone I could play shortstop under any circumstance. We could field a team of legless, armless, blind, platypuses and all of them would play shortstop ahead of me.
And somehow his “ugly shortstop” made my game look like a supermodel.
As much as I wanted to put character over talent, there was no way I could let this guy play on the team. My existing teammates would revolt on me because we all knew he would cost us games. It was painful and awkward to do, but I had to cut his ass…no matter how nice he and his hot girlfriend were.
At the university, I decided to take up intramural softball. I figured it would be something fun to do and a good place to scout for new talent (since Craigslist clearly wasn’t going to work). I took a softball class at my JC and that’s where I got into the softball thing. Many of the guys I play with I met through that class. Sure, the talent level wasn’t great–but it resembled a softball game. Going into it, I knew intramural softball is different from softball class. But the way I figured it, no one out there is going to embarrass themselves. They signed up and paid their ten bucks on their own accord. If anything, the intramural players should be better than the folks who take softball because they need PE credits.
My first day of intramural play, I didn’t know what to expect because I was put on a team with 10 strangers. I didn’t know how good anyone was. I didn’t know who I’d be playing with. I didn’t know how seriously they would take it. All I knew was that I didn’t want to embarrass myself.
It turns out the only one who should be embarrassed is the game of softball itself. We played on a field with fences so shallow I could hit one out–with the wind blowing in. Instead of using authentic balls, we used these padded, cushioned pillows designed not to hurt anyone. The bats were all older than my wardrobe and the best stick we had was a $20 bat found at Target. I wouldn’t be caught dead using the Hammer anywhere. When I see someone using the Hammer in league play, I come in because NO ONE hits the ball hard when using the Hammer (yes, the name is a serious case of false advertising). I didn’t bring my gear to the first game because I didn’t wanna look like one of those gung-ho, crazy softball guys. My mistake left us without balls or bats because no one should have to play with the leftovers and rejects provided for us. I was disgusted by what I saw–and this was before the game even started.
This was the most pathetic game of softball I’ve ever seen (Special Olympics and senior leagues included). Neither pitcher could throw strikes. The strike zone was loosely enforced. The baserunners frequently accidentally led off. The umpires didn’t know what an infield fly was. We didn’t have enough balls for warm-up. Some guys used baseball bats. Other guys used wooden bats. Some people used bats that are too small for anyone over the age of 14. I cringed at every aspect of the game. Hell, our centerfielder never played softball before. I didn’t want to think I’m better than anyone, but I couldn’t help but feel this interpretation of the game was way below me.
That’s when I realized I’m a softball snob. I looked down at the ragtag group of awkward klutzes, outdated equipment, and a ball that was better suited for sleeping on than hitting out of the park–I looked down on them because I expected much better. For the people on my team who haven’t played baseball since Little League, they don’t know the difference between a $20 bat and a $120 bat. They probably never competed in leagues and they certainly don’t invest a small fortune in bats, gloves, and pizza (all necessary softball requirements). They’re happy with it because they don’t know any else.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t good enough for me, and I didn’t have any fun. I’m not an elitist, but I knew what’s better because I’ve played with better. I tried to finish out the season, but I really couldn’t do it. Showing up to a game I didn’t enjoy playing became too much of a hassle and didn’t seem worth my time. I thought I loved softball and would play anytime anywhere. Turns out, even I have limits.