Singapore Rats

This past Sunday the noble and valiant Brewerkz River Rats stormed the field like a horde of slavering bed bugs sensing fresh meat on the mattress.  The opponent was our arch-rivals, the DLA Headhunters.

Game One started reasonably well.  Phun Phil started things with a single and eventually came around score, though other baserunners were left stranded.  The Rats again pushed across a run in the top of the second with Phil Vangina scoring.  (Hmmm, seems like we do pretty well when someone named Phil leads off an inning.  Maybe we should all change our names to Phil?)

Inning #3 started with a trio of singles to load the bases, bringing Phat to the plate.  In a surprising move, the Headhunters left fielder decided to go against the scouting report which shows Phat hitting the ball to left 99.628% of the time, and shifted toward left center.  Unsurprisingly Phat proceeded to lace a ball to left field which scooted past the stunned defender and rolled to the fence.  One run in.  Two runs in.  Three runs in.

And here comes Phat lumbering toward third.  Caoching at third, Unka Steve gives the stop sign.  Phat ignores it and rumbles into the turn.  Three Rats are standing behind the plate.  None gives any indication if the ball is hurtling toward the catcher’s outstretched glove.  Phat turns on the afterburners (>snork<) and lines up to run a few feet behind the plate (as you’re supposed to do).

Unhappily Phat forgets there is a small mound of dirt located about 4 feet up the third base line. Cleats hit the unexpected rise in elevation … balance is lost … ass flies over tea kettle … as he crosses the line … he is called … (wait for it) … SAFE!  An inside-the-park grand slam, a commanding six-run lead and a pratfall comedy routine all rolled into one!

The Rats continued scoring, plating a further 8 runs, and cruised to comfortable victory.

In between games the Rats reclined in discomfort as the elderly blue and white awning was no longer there to shade our weary bodies in the dugout.  (The added heat did, however, inspire us to consume more beer, so it wasn’t a total negative.)

With a perfect-for-the-decade record intact the Rats once again ambled aimlessly to the field of play. And once again Phun Phil led off and scored, this time followed by two more Rats crossing the plate.  Immediately thereafter, however, and vast quantity of sucking transpired and the Rats couldn’t score again, and the team suffered its first defeat of the decade by four runs.

So, for those of you with functioning ears but did not attend the games, that great wail of lamentation and tremendous gnashing of teeth you heard on Sunday was the sound of a thousand angels crying the bitter tears of defeat, suffering on behalf of the River Rats.  Now don’t you feel bad?

… because all good things come to an end.

Those Who Hit With Great Alacrity and Great Success:

* Len “Blame It on Me, Fellas” Kiczek – 6 for 8, .750, 3 runs

* John “Chip-N-Dale” Cappetta – 6 for 9, .675, 3R

* Phun Phil “Don’t Blame Me, I Don’t Live Here Anymore” Galetto – 5 for 8, .625, BB, 2R

Those Who Hit With Some Alacrity But Had More Modest Results:

* Greg “Third Base is My Bitch” Parker – 4 for 7, .571, BB, 2R

* Adam “PHat” Persson – 4 for 7, .571, BB, 3R, Grand Salami, tragicomic ‘slide’ into home plate

* “Unka” Steve Kreutter – 5 for 9, .556, 3R

* Travis Washko – 4 for 8, .500, BB, 2R

Those Who Attended But Evinced Merely a Modicum of Alacrity and Consequently Had Results That Did Not Glow, Shine or Otherwise Merit a Strong and Positive Adjective:

* Phil “Vangina” Van Dine – 3 for 8, .375, R

* Bill “Sport Playa” Lafferandre – 1 for 8, .125

Those Whose Presence Was Needed But Whose Performance, Though Showing Some Alacrity, Basically Sucked Majorly in the Results Department:

* Mark “Yeah, But I Had A Walk” McGrath – 0 for 1, .000, BB

* Harris “Mumbles” Vertlieb – 0 for 5, .000

Those Who Shall Forevermore Be Damned to Roast Eternally in the Flames of the Underworld Because They Confirmed Attendance But Did Not Actually Attend, Thusly Leaving Their Fellow Rats to Scramble to Find Enough Bodies to Play, and At Whose Feet We Will Unceremoniously Lay Blame for Everything Bad that Ever Happens Ever Again:

* You know who you are!