Gamblers Games IV and V -- Gamblers improve to 4-1 on Brogan's birthday and after outscoring opponents by 40 runs in two games. 

“Stroke me, stroke me. Say you’re a winner, but man you’re just a sinner now.” – Billy Squier

Yes. I actually quoted Billy Squier as the lead-in for last week’s twin-cap writeups. No, mama, I am not proud.

You all remember Billy Squier, right? He was the long-haired pretty boy who captured the hearts of early-MTV boppers with funzy pop romps like “Everybody Wants You,” “My Kinda Lover,” and the above-mentioned screed against the music industry, “The Stroke.”

Oh, and for those of you who wonder whatever caused Mr. Squier’s career to die, the answer can be found right here, at the 0:30 mark of this epochal vidyo:

http://youtube.com/watch?v=fR0j7sModCI

And yes, in case anyone was wondering, that IS what VD would look like with long hair.

Anyways, “The Stroke” is quoted in honor of the hapless freak of nature who captains one of our two mercy-ruled victims from last week, Eric Stroker. The poor wildman was at his wits end last week during our Wednesday matchup in Camp LeJeune-like heat, not understanding why his team couldn’t show the smarts, the discipline, and the talent to beat our Mighty Gamblers.

And yes, Stroker questioning a team’s discipline and poise IS kinda like Gene Simmons lecturing a Catholic school class on the virtues of chastity.

So we salute the Mighty Stroker for his pathos, even while we kind of chuckled at it and then just plain laughed at the absurdity of it all. Some bring a gun to a gun fight. Some mistakenly bring a knife.

The Warriors last Wednesday? They brought neither gun nor knife. They brought Stroker. And paid dearly for it. And wound up, as Mr. Squirer might say, “in the dark.”

GAME 4 RESULTS - Gamblers 26, West Wings 11

The only thing less pretty about this game was the idea that somewhere in this world, there are people who consider Stroker “too tame” to hang out with. Yikes.

We butchered Warriors like a free-range hog on this steamy, seamy night, delivering a beatdown so thorough and so brutal that Bulldog – after another night of peerless pitching – genuinely could not believe that we gave up 11 runs. As the Bulldog hisself beautifully put it after this particularly sanguine smackfest, “Anyone who seeks to destroy the passions instead of controlling them is trying to play the angel.”

Actually, you know what? It may have been Voltaire who said that. Not Bulldog. I often confuse the two.

What a display of Gambler might it was, though. Everyone hit, everyone scored. VD and AC each racked up hit number 100 in their storied careers, becoming the 3rd and 4th Gamblers in history to do so. Because none of us could believe that the Amazing AC was possibly approaching 100 hits already, he was not duly honored. So allow the record to state right now, AC, that you are the man. You are the wind beneath our wings. You are the wind between our legs. You are the sun, you are the rain, that makes our lives this foolish game. You are Iron Man. You Are.

As for VD, well, he was awarded with a signed ball from all his “adoring” teammates. Making this the first time since senior year of college that a group of men took a Sharpie to one of VD’s balls.

But…the game was an exercise in excellence. AC came within a single of a cycle. The Kid roped one and hit a bunch of others on the screws. Ray knocked it around, Wil the Thrill struck fear in the hearts of anyone within a 3-miles radius, the Bulldog augmented his pitching – “helped his own cause” is how the hep kids say it – with a whole mess o’ hits,  and I banged out 3 more hits, including – inexplicably – my 2nd triple of the year. Which is kinda like watching Stephen Hawking benchpress. Oh well. Looks like all that squid semen I’ve been drinking with my morning Ovaltine is paying off, huh?

Oh, and speaking of squid semen, how about the way Breeze played? (Sorry, Jay, but SOMEONE had to be chosen for that one.) Chief continued to hit the ball like a South Boston stepchild. And the Dome’s one hit of the night? Well, it went a long way. Longer than there’ve been stars up in the heaven.

Lastly, this author would be remiss without mentioning The Throw.

After a particularly long would-be homerun by WW and VD told the gargantuan manchild who hit it to “ease up” going around third, the beast did just that, expecting his ball and the men chasing it to be lost together in the summer grass of deep right field.

Only…no.

The Thrill uncorked a throw that should’ve had a fighter pilot on it, so straight and fast did it go. And when the ball thwanged it’s way full-speed into my glove at the plate, and the Wookie running homeward now had to sprawl across the plate like Orca avenging the death of his son well…anybody who saw it was impressed. And more than a little frightened.

So that was it. Great pitching, milestone hits, near-cycles, and one very large and intemperate man with eyeblack, screaming at his team. That’s softball, baby!

THE HOMER ATTABOY

Really anyone could have won this award this night, the award given weekly to the Gambler who goes above and beyond for his teammates. But we shall give it to the man who just might be the finest all-around ballplayer in the whole damn league, Andrew “AC” Clark. This one recognizes not only his double-triple-home run near-cycle, but also his unsung and largely ignored milestone hit. So, AC, even though you don’t have a trophy ball, maybe this will help. And the fact that you are likely to live a lot longer than the rest of us.

GAME 5 – GAMBLERS 21, WHOMEVER THE F—K THEY WERE 8

This was an embarrassment that is not worthy of a recap. Having that team on the field against us was about as appropriate as that Corky guy from “Life Goes On” piloting a blimp. It just wasn’t right.

We scored 21 runs in the 1st inning – Twenty. One. – and then waited for the umpire to load his shotgun, pull back the curtain, and put this wounded plowhorse out of its misery. It was like a car wreck, only one that happens for 48 minutes straight.

But, in the spirit of the Special Olympics, everyone was a winner!

Except the other team.

Thanks Glen, for turning this league into the 1st 35 minutes of The Bad News Bears.

THE HOMER ATTABOY

For his encouragement of mercy in this ugly stepsister of a game, this version of the Homer Attaboy, the award given weekly to the Gambler who goes above and beyond for his teammates, goes to the Man on the Hill – Dave “Bulldog” Brogan. He could tell right away that there was something badly wrong with this game, and he very decently urged us all – and we agreed – to ease up and let this monstrosity take its place in the dustpin of league history. For that, we salute the Bulldog this week. And yes, you read this correctly. We are awarding Bulldog for doing the decent thing. Yeah, that kinda freaks me out too.

Next game tonight. Stay tuned for emails for the when and where.