Power Love

Your definitive resource. That's all, just your definitive resource.

07 July 2009


The first thing you need to know about Sweep the Leg Johnny's kickball game last week is, the ref possessed some kind of paradigm-shifting power that allowed him to transform Gill Park into the Wizard of Oz version of a kickball field. As you may know, Gill Park is a gem. Tucked behind a blonde brick buidling that houses the grave of Jimmy Hoffa, the kickball field spreads out like the yellow brick road, except it's a field, so less road, more field. But still, that air of Dorothy and Scarecrow skipping down a golden mosaic path is inescapable. Some people have a problem with the ever present air of a woman who talks conspiratorially to her small dog. I do not, as I love anything that involves shiny shoes.

Anyhoodle, this ambience proved to work in our favor because Sweep the Leg Johnny rules at paradigm shifting.

The game progressed as the sun set and the field lights came on. There was a yellow glow that eeked out from underneath park benches and at the roots of trees. Periodically, a chorus of booze drinkers who had commandeered a nearby bench would break out into song, each of which ended with a cheer and the clunk of beer cans. A smoke machine was brought in during Inning 3. By Inning 6, dancers were coralled in the deep outfield where they stretched. I'm pretty sure they were the real Rockettes.

In addition to paradigm shifting, the ref also possessed an annoying combination of ethics and smugness, which caused him to enforce the rules and ignore various tasty bribes, and which also caused him to frequently suspend play and explain the rules as though the rest of us were completely ignorant of the rules.

We were. We were completely ignorant of the rules, okay, Elliot Ness? Sheesh. I mean, except for Bobby. As it turned out, an understanding of the rules proved to be an ideal approach to winning the game. Evidently, if you simply "tag up" after the other team catches a fly ball, you can then proceed to "take a base," or two, if you're wiley, alert, and on meth. When multiple offensive players "tag up" and subsequently "take a base," this is called "kicking ass" and it creates a very pleasurable feeling.

By the bottom of Inning 7, Sweep the Leg Johnny was up by 2. We took the field and suddenly, a cobweb-like feeling crept over our collective team hands and wouldn't you know, a top-secret, adhesive gel, invented by NASA, covered our palms, thereby allowing us to catch everything that came our way.

This was perfect at the time since it was an easy 1-2-3 to end the game. However, most of us enjoy juggling flaming swords as a way to relax after a tense kickball game, so the adhesive NASA gel proved to be not so practical at that time.

Still, we won. The smoke machine smoked. The Rockettes kicked. The booze hounds on the park bench wailed the blues. Next week starts playoff week. You should go.

05 July 2009


Though this graphic doesn't look like one, I can't help but wonder if this isn't a message to the cylons.