Tuesday, October 6, 2009

Somebody please get me out of this

The end of the MLB regular season brings a new wave of baseball fervor into my life. Last week, I joined a co-ed softball league for players over 16. DKM forwarded me the e-mail and his little boy excitement left me no choice but to enroll. I signed up immediately, thinking the league would be akin to Toronto beer leagues. You know the type - players who suck are good-naturedly laughed at and everyone celebrates with a couples of rounds at the local pub after games. I’ve never actually joined a beer league but have heard that these are the wonderful things that happen within.

After a few days, I changed my mind about the whole situation. Why the change of heart? I realized I’m actually going to have to play on Saturday and that I totally stink at softball.  At least, I think I do. I’ve never played. I love watching baseball and enjoy the occasional game of catch, but when it comes to actually playing the sport in a competitive environment, I choke. I’d rather spend time at the gym on a stationary treadmill where I
probably won’t hurt myself.

I’m a professional armchair athlete. Newly-minted Jays GM Alex Anthopolous  proves you can be successful in sports when you're not a total jock.  There’s no shame in sucking at softball (k
eep telling yourself that, blondie).

After creeping the e-mails/Facebook profiles (don’t look surprised) of my fellow players, it seems I’m in terrifying company. First, there’s a team made up of 25 South Americans (with a 14-man roster, they have ELEVEN alternates). Is it racist to be horrified at the thought of playing the South American team? Probably yes. Also, there are about 12 players whose e-mail addresses lead me to believe they’re in the Army. The trained killers are going to whiffle balls right at my face. While the broken nose look is kind of rugged and hot, it wouldn’t suit me. It seems like I’ve signed up for a competitive endeavor in which I could very likely fail.  This makes me sick to my stomach.

But, now we play the Pollyanna Glad Game, an exercise in positivity….. MAYBE I won’t be the worst player on the team. MAYBE I’ll make some new friends and have a few laughs and find out my inner jock has been screaming for a chance to beat up my outer computer nerd. MAYBE I will only be laughed at my very first at bat.

Maybe everyone will hate me.

Pollyanna can’t help me now. DKM, won’t you chime in and save me from this unattractive spiral of self-doubt? We’re talking softball here. WHAT DO I HAVE TO DO TO GET YOU TO WRITE A BLOG POST!? 


  1. We will see you on the FIELD, Mer! Haha, just looked back at my husband's roster and saw your name on an opposing team. Looking forward to the ensuing showdown :D

  2. No way!! Internet and real worlds collide!

    Please don't tell anyone I'm terrified.

  3. Are you on one of the teams? What is the general skill level I can expect? Should I fake an injury now or later?

  4. No, I'm not on a team, but you can bet your sweet little Canadian hiney that I'll be there to capture "the moments" on film. I have a feeling it won't only be the Internet and the real worlds colliding :) No faking it, dearie!

  5. You are mean. Did you just call me dearie?

  6. I'm so sorry. I meant Pollyanna.

  7. Hahaha good one.
    Sybil, your tone has changed noticeably since you realized I'm playing against your team. Maybe you're as competitive as I am.


Ramble on...