catfish 27

 Well at least Queen (Gutsy) Gretchen won democratically, that is more people voted for her than against her.  The same cannot be said for her opposition, the hysterical, Trumpist, legislature.

Last year, Michigan Democrats won more overall votes for state House than Republicans. It was by a whisper, about half of one percentage point.

But Democrats got walloped in the race that counts, as the GOP swept 63 of 110 seats.

https://www.bridgemi.com/michigan-government/gerrymandering-michigan-among-nations-worst-new-test-claims

But now that the covid is on the wane and a sane guy is in the white house maybe it is time for us all to join in a kumbaya moment.  Except that it will continue among the unvaxed and thereby may mutate into something that the current vaxes can't handle and we will be right back in the shit again.

Glad to see that Walmart is doing the right thing by its employees so that they no longer have to wait in line in those food pantries or apply for food stamps.

Am glad to hear Beagles's comments on the saga, but I cannot reply lest I ruin the suspense.

So there we were the Great Wall team, out at the ballyard, kind of standing around waiting for the teams before us to finish their game, and you know they looked pretty good, both of them, better than us that’s for damn sure.  Not that I cared much whether we won or lost, but if the team we were going to play was as good as either of those first two we were going to be clobbered. 

 And that team, they were over on the other side of the field, and they were tossing around the ball and doing wind sprints and those weird stretching exercises, while we were, as I said standing around, passing around a couple twelve packs until one of the umpires noticed that and called time out and went over to us and said no beer in the public part.  No beer?  Damn.

 And just as were hauling what was left of the twelve packs into the trunks of the cars there was a bunch of honking and George’s Cadillac was pulling into the parking lot.  “Hey sombitches, hey assholes,” he was saying because that’s the way he talked.  He had a couple of the cooks with him still wearing their dirty white uniforms and looking puzzled as they took seats in the middle of the stands.

 “Hey Dimant, Dimant,” he was yelling out, and this meant Dan, Diamond Dan, and got his attention and he came walking past me towards the stands, and I wasn’t envying him any because George was like the owner and I was pretty sure we would be clobbered.  But just as he passed me Dan grabbed me the elbow and dragged me along with him.

 “We’re in this together,” he said out of the side of his mouth like he talked sometimes, and I didn’t see how that was and tried to pull away but his grip was tight and I followed him.

 “How you guys gonna do?” George wanted to know.

 “We’ll do fine,” Dan answered.

 “You sure?” George asked because even being Chinese and no kind of baseball fan he must’ve seen the difference between the two teams, one warming up and the other grumbling about how their beer had been taken away.

 “We’ll do fine,” Dan repeated, and then we were stepping back out of the stands and there was Gina.  She had said she was coming but I hadn’t really expected her to show up.  She was a little scrunched up in the bottom row looking through a newspaper but she noticed me stepping past her.  She gave me a big smile and broke into the song of the Valkyries.

 Well shit we were certainly going to need to be carried off by those horn-headed girls after this game was over.  “Dan,” I said, “this does not look good.”

 “We’ll do fine,” he told me, and then handed me a card he had been scribbling on.  “Take this to the umps,” he said handing it to me.

 It was the lineup card.  Me, Ron, and Ted in the outfield, couch guys in the infield except for Itch at first and Dan pitching.

 That last item particularly troubled me.  “Dan?”

 “What?”

 “You’re pitching?”

 “Yeah.”

 “You can’t pitch. You’re terrible.” It just kind of came out.  Generally I try to get along, but it just seemed so obvious.

 It kind of stopped him.  He looked me in the eye and I looked him right back because it was still so obvious.

 “Okay,” he said, “Okay, I know what you’re talking about, in practice I’ve been a little wild.”

 “Well yeah,” I answered though I thought a little wild was putting it mildly.

 “Probably something you don’t realize, never having been in the bigs, is that practice is just practice.  There’s no pressure.  Pressure is what does it.  Knowing that the game is on the line, that’s what a real pitcher needs.  It focuses you, you know, outlines that strike zone, etches it into your mind, guides your hand right into the right arc, the right release point, you know what I mean?”

 I didn’t, but I nodded, he was so sure of himself, what did I know?

 He walked the first six batters.  Nothing was close.  He was kind of calm after the first three, but when he walked in the first run he threw his glove onto the ground, when he walked in the next one he kicked it, after the third he just stood there staring at the next batter slamming the ball into his glove then walked around the mound, slammed the ball again, and then walked around the mound again.  We just stood at our positions and stared.  What do you do when the manager blows up?

 Itch trotted in from first base, and took the ball, from way out in right field it looked like he patted him a little on the back and Dan, head downwards, went to third base and the third baseman took over at first

 Itch threw strikes, but the problem was they were pretty fat strikes and the other team teed off on them, line drives, hard grounders that went right through the infield, the only chance we had were on balls to the outfield, one was hit right at Ron and he caught it, Ted made a fine running catch and the last out was to short right field.  I had a good eye on it, but it was dropping fast.  I leapt right under it, and I’m not sure if it didn’t bounce right in front of me but it ended up in my glove and the umpire maybe he didn’t see that little bounce or maybe he was just glad to see the inning over but he called it an out.

 Ten to nothing, bottom of the first.

 Ron smacked the first pitch way over the centerfielder’s head.  Trotted into home pumping his arm.  Itch smacked a good one down the first base line and ended up at second, a groundout put him at third and then it was my turn at bat.  I put on a good show, striding up to the plate all cocky and when I got there pounding the bat into the ground until the umpire called time and told me, “That’s enough,” and I said, “Yes sir.”

 But I wasn’t confident at all, all I’m thinking is keep my eyes open and it’s messing me, and Itch standing there on third base and cupping his hands around his mouth and shouting, “Get me in Catfish,” wasn’t really helping and the first pitch came in as big and fat as a basketball and I whiffed missing it by a mile.  I assume a mile though I can’t be sure because my eyes were slammed shut.  Damn.  I turned towards our dugout and there was Dan just staring daggers at me.  How could he have seen that?  But I knew he did.  The same thing the second pitch.

 “Eyes open!” Dan yelled, and Itch picked that up.  “Keep them open Natty.”

 And I did, I kept them open and the third pitch was coming in kind of low and outside, probably a ball, but maybe not and I sure didn’t want to take a called third strike not with Gina and George in the stands so I swung, not so hard, just trying to meet the ball and I kept my eyes open.  I hit it off the end of the bat, a slow roller bouncing down the third base line.  Itch took off.  The third baseman came charging in, had a thought of getting Itch at home but it would have been a tough throw past the runner and by the time he thought to throw to first I was just a step away and the ball went over the first baseman’s head and then I was standing on second.

 So pretty cool.  I looked into the stands but Gina had her face in the newspaper and George was arguing with his cooks.  A strikeout and an easy grounder to the shortstop and that was the end of the inning. 

 Ten to two, top of the second.  Sixteen to two bottom of the second, still that in the top of the third.  Twenty one to two in the bottom of the third.  With two outs the outfield was deep for Ron but he hit it between them for a double.  Itch had a line drive to right but the right fielder had it on one hop and went home with it as Ron was rounding past third.  It was a good throw, the catcher had plenty of time to steel himself, but Ron went into him like a ton of bricks.  The ball was laying there in the dirt as Ron was pumping his arms again and the catcher was rolling in the dirt clutching his midsection.  Itch took second and while nobody was noticing third, “White Sox baseball,” Dan was cheering.  Another strikeout.  Twenty one to three, top of the fourth.  Twenty seven to three bottom of the fourth. 

 I got to lead off.  You know really my last at bat had been an out, but it had turned out to be a double, well maybe not officially, but I had ended up at second base and had batted in a run.  At the end of the inning both Dan and Itch had pounded me on the back.  That had felt pretty good,  OK then I would just keep my eyes open and I did, and the first two pitches I took as balls and I felt pretty good about that, and I remembered Dan telling me that he would have to come in with the next one, and he did fat and sassy, I could almost read ‘Hit Me’ spelled out in the lacings, and I gave it a pretty good smack, but not all that hard like I did with my eyes closed and it was pretty sharp but right at the second baseman and I was an easy out.  Next two guys were pretty easy outs too and if you’re down by more than 10 runs at the end of the fourth that was the end of the game. 

 Kind of a relief really.  Time to pack up and go to the bar.  Not too much to crow about losing twenty seven to three, but I had that double, and I had that diving catch in the first inning and a couple good ones after that.  My shirt was dirty, I had given it my all.  George was pretty cool about it.  “You bums, I told you you guys were no good,” but he was laughing.  Gina was cool too.  “Well you’ll get them next time,” she said.

 “What makes you think that?” I asked.

 “I don’t know,” she answered pleasantly.  “I just have faith in you guys.”

 “You do?”