For lack of gainful employment, healthy hobbies, and the absence of any direction in my life I joined a kickball team for the spring. Excited? You betcha.
My team consists of a dreamy and distracted group of downtowners all of whom are active members in the local music scene, so it was seemingly natural to take the next step into athleticism. That’s right, we are all now ‘athletes,’ and I don’t just mean our livers. Any avenue for shenanigans seems like a reasonable route to me.
At our first team practice this weekend I got a little preview of what this season has in store. The first problem was the location. I picked the park and time we would be meeting (big mistake)- so naturally I picked the park closest to my house and the time of day when I thought I would probably not be on a patio, drinking. The result was that we showed up a little bit toasty at 4pm on a Sunday after all of our mimosa-brunches to a park full of trees that sloped downhill. After a quick headcount (8 out of 26 players seemed to be an impressive turnout, considering who we are dealing with) we decided to practice kicking and catching.
The first thing I did was hit myself in the face with the ball. I expected no less. Two of our players then collided with each other while attempting to catch a fly ball. One guy ran into a tree while chasing the ball (that one was pretty awesome) while another realized that every time she went to kick the ball she just completely bailed (imagine Charlie Brown missing that football, flying up in the air, and landing flat on his back and you’ve got a pretty accurate vision). A 6’3” 250 pound bouncer announced that he had broken a fingernail. I discovered that whenever it came my way I ran from the ball with my arms over my head like the biggest wimp in the world. Someone then kicked it into the beer on the picnic table and we all groaned in sorrow. Within half an hour we had popped it and all stood around with our egos deflating alongside it while someone went for a bike fix kit. It’s going to be an awesome season.
Our team name is ‘Taco Kick’ and I’m pretty stoked to see if we can’t find a taco costume and someone willing to wear it and be our
cheerleader beerleader. If we can’t be the best playing team, we will be the best looking team. I do love to stand out of a crowd.