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Seething Cakes of Hatred

Making pancakes, as I learned at AP's birthday bash at the beach this weekend, is an unbelievably tedious chore. I don't know why I...

Thursday, April 20, 2006

Little League

I knew that I should go with The Toddtender on my first trip to the batting cages. But, after being home sick for a couple days, I decided last night to go practice batting by myself. And, no, that is not a euphemism.

Several of the batting cages were being used, so I went down to the one at the end, set the machine for "Slow Pitch Softball" and positioned myself over the plate the way I was taught at practice.

The first ball came in low, but I swung anyway. Missed.
The second ball seemed low too, so I let it go by.
The third, fourth and fifth balls were, like, knee level, but I figured I'd try to hit them. God, that hurt my arms to swing at such a low angle.

After ten or fifteen pitches, I was mad. Yes, I'm pretty new to softball, but I was relatively successful a couple of weeks ago at batting practice. I knew I couldn't be that bad.

I stomped out of the batting cage and, still holding my bat in case I needed to make a point, went to the front desk.

"Is there any way to adjust the height on those machines?"

The guy at the front desk told me that there wasn't. "Wrigley Field batting cage has a higher arc, if you want to try that one. And the one at the end, Fenway Park, is the kids' batting cage."

Wha? The kids cage? I was practicing in the kids' cage. How very Will Ferrell of me.

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