Bats and Balls

Ester, you’re only my sister on paper.  You’re more like my editor, manager, wing-man… fuck it – can I just say Best Friend?  You realize that, right?  I listen to you talk, see the way you live and view life, and I realize we’re two peas in a pod.  We really are about the same, well, aside from the fact that you have boobs and I have a dick, but you know what I mean….  Do you ever read stuff I write and think, ‘That’s just how I feel?’

I do that all the time when I read how you write.  Blows my mind, Ester, when I stop and realize how much we are alike.

Oh, yeah, not that I figure it would offend you, but sorry for mentioning boobs and dicks.  Then again, fuck it – you’d say the same thing and no apology is necessary.

Should I write another post for you in this?  Eh.  I don’t feel like it.  How about we just chat – you and me?  Besides, such a nice, uplifting conversation we’re having here! 

Are we like totally scarring people for life, or what?  Do other people talk like this?  I can see sweet fuckin’ Candy… “Oh, you two are so silly!  I love you both!”

Don’t we have the best fans?

Where else can you talk mad smack and people love you despite it?  …Or FOR it?

Ester, what have we done, sister?  We are corrupting the country.  Ha!  Truth is the country is already corrupted.  Most people just keep it under wraps.  You and me – screw it – let’s talk about whatever.  OK, I’m tired of talking about dicks.

Know what I want to talk about now?  Softball!!  (Where did that come from?)

Borrowed from Ninety Feet of Perfection 

Click on the link or photo to read a sweet post about baseball in San Quentin Prison

Yeah, there’s a change in the tide for ya.  My big holiday weekend.  My options?  Jack off or play ball.  Ha!  What’s the difference?  Really?  Bats and balls either way!  It’s a win-win situation.  Only men would think up such a game, then turn it into America’s favorite pastime.  WTF?

So me and some buddies made up a team and played ball.  If I recall, I said way back when that our bat is chained to home plate.  Yeah – security reasons.  This is not a small chain either.  No, this is one of those logging chains, like you could pull a school bus out of a ditch with this kind of chain.  This chain is a man’s chain.  Ten feet of steel chain.  

…Securing an aluminum bat to home plate.  Whoever thought this up was a frickin’ genius.  Why hit the bastard with an aluminum bat when you could wrap a 10-foot logging chain around his neck and strangle him?  My god, who thinks up that crazy shit anyway?  Oh, yeah – they must work for the state.  

So we played ball!  Surprisingly, we actually won the first game.  We advanced to play a second game the same day.  We lost.  My luck never holds out past 3 innings (sounds like something she said!  …Yeah, beat you to the punch!). 

Why does talking about baseball sound so much like talking about sex?  When you’re in high school, your buddies ask, “So, did you make it to first base or second?”  Then you become an adult and… well, not much changes.  You still play with balls.  Only difference is you find out baseball isn’t only played with first and second base, but there’s a third base too.  Ahh, the joys of being an adult.

So we played two games, won one and lost one.  But it was fun.  One of those rare moments when you forget where you are and realize you have a smile on your face.  Every person of every color are all together, cheering each other on.

We could have been free men at a park on the street.  I’m a writer.  I see this stuff and my smile gets even bigger.  Whether these guys realize it or not, we just freed our minds!  Priceless!  It’s a good day to be alive.

Happy Independence Day.