Season IX, Game I

Gamblers vs. Ginger Kids

Friday, June 19, 2008

“Look me in the eye and tell me I’m satisified. Hey, was you satisfied?” – The Replacements

And so begins the Gamblers 2009 season. The 9^th season for the boys in maroon (formerly the boys in pewter and black and before that the boys in green and white). Another season of hopes and longing. Another season striving for that elusive brass ring, and we’re not talking about the one that pierce’s Dougie’s left nipple. (Sorry – I peaked). Another year of reaching for the championship that has avoided us the way 29-year-old shut-ins now avoid VD on the Internet, fairly certain he is not the “randy 19-year-old blonde gymnast” he says he is. Another year of hoping THIS is the year. Another girl, another planet. Another opening, another show.

So as each game passes in the summer to come, clicks by with big runs and big efforts by big men with a big dream, mayhap the words Paul Westerberg and the Replacements asked so plaintively in 1984 will come to mind: Are you satisfied?

No. F—king. Way.

And nor will we be, until we hold aloft that championship trophy with the grace and ease with which Bulldog once held aloft his partner back during his Ice Dancing days. Before tragedy set in that one time and he threw his petite partner into the 4^th row while attempting a triple salchow. Or a lutz. Hard to remember.

So will this be the year, Gamblers? Will this be the time we finally chase down that ol’ demon, Ridley? May it finally come to us this summer? May we know the feeling of something other than abject dread when the sun finally sets on the 2009 season? May this be love, my precious waterfall?

Boy howdy do we hope so. And remember, as always, hope is a good thing, Red. Way better than being sodomized by Bogs Diamond in the film room.

So heads up, gloves up, time to move, gamblers.  The call has gone out to the Kid and Sonic and the Bus and VD. To the Dome and the Rook and the chief and to Speedy. To to the Breeze and AC, Dougie Fresh and the Bulldog, to Oz and the Thrill and the peerless Big Daddy.

The call has been made, boys and boys. Will we answer it?

The season awaits. But so far, so good.

WEEK 1 – Gamblers 26, Gingers 18

After about 11 months of rain that left the fields – and our hearts – damper than Breeze’s backseat on any given Friday night, the season began a week late and 3 bags of quick dry later. Our first foray onto the field was against a plucky bunch of newcomers know as the…the Gingers? (NOTE TO EDITOR: Can that possibly be what they are called?) They don’t look pretty, and they field the ball with all the grace of a Bulgarian wrestler who just consumed a roofied Long Island Iced Tea (or as the Breeze calls it, “Saturday”), but they sure could swat the ball. To paraphrase Mike Tyson, they hit the ball like it stole something from them in the first inning, plating 4 runs that could have been more were it not for some fanciful fielding from the Rook at shortstop and clutch pitching by the Bulldog on the Hill. Down 4-0, we came to the plate.

And that is where we remained for the next 29 minutes.

Two walks, 9 hits, 2 home runs, and (yes) 3 errors later we had slapped a couple of touchdowns on the board against the Gingers (NOTE TO EDITOR: Seriously? Gingers????) The Rook and Big Daddy each blasted homers. The Breeze and your humble narrator the Speedman hisself each had two hits. Dougie, VD, and Big Daddy also reached twice. Dome lined a base hit so hard it later required a ballistics report. We hit, they dropped, and when all was said and done it was 14-4 Gamblers and there was no looking back.

All in all we rapped out 24 hits on the night, and yes, were aided by 9 – NINE! – Ginger errors. Dome joined Big Daddy and Rook by going deep. Chief smacked a double and a triple. Thrill had 3 hits, 2 runs scored, 3 RBI, and caused 3 or 4 Ginger-ellas to wet themselves whenever he swung the bat. Get this – ALL 14 OF OUR PLAYERS SCORED RUNS DURING THE GAME!  Has that ever happened? And if AC – in attendance but tending to his young ‘un choosing to sit out – had decided to play, HE would have scored too. We scored and we scored and we scored. We scored more often than even Kid did this one time at band camp.

Seven more runs in the 4^th – where as a team we hit for the cycle with singles by the Rook and the Bulldog, a very loud double by the Thrill, and effortless triple by Mr. Fresh, and a very long and angry dinger by Le Dome – put the game away for good and the mild celebration was on. Not even the quick pitching by the dorky Ginger pitcher – who looked about as slick doing it as an asthmatic Chess Club member in a biker bar (ah, I miss the 90s!!) – could stop our offensive explosion. To put it in anatomical terms – the offseason was a large Indian meal. The Gingers were the unsuspecting colon. We, the Gamblers, were a carton of Ex-Lax. And, as always, VD was the dick.

Hee. That was fun.

Though we would be remiss if we didn’t harken back to two rather fun moments during the game.

With a 16-7 lead going into the 3^rd, our fearless leader Sonic made a decision that will one day join the Bay of Pigs invasion, New Coke, The Magic Johnson Show, and the “Mission Accomplished!” banner on the list of “Ideas That Seemed Good At the Time, But In the End…Enh, Not So Much.”

Yep. This is when our beloved Sonic opted to remove VD from the game. In favor of VD’s most HATED rival, the Kid.

But VD reacted well. Kinda the way Carrie did after her school chums pulled that prank on her at the prom. Yeah, if ol’ VD had a bucket of pig’s blood, Ray would have been doused in it while VD burned down the field and stole all of Bulldog’s beer. He was, shall we say, less than happy?

But as VD stewed and plotted like a vengeful American college girl studying in Italy and growing tired of all the sexual attention her roommate is getting, The Kid did his part to bring the whole incident from “Leif Garrett ‘Behind The Music’” Epic to “Two Girls, One Cup” Epic. (Look it up, if you dare). As VD prepared to smack the Kid’s infant daughter in the face – just because, you know, he felt like it – what did the Kid do?

He struck out.

Looking.

While VD watched.

I know, because I was there.

And the mushroom cloud could be seen for miles.

And on behalf of the Gamblers, this author now simply says thank you to VD and the Kid. For making the game, well, way more memorable than it had to be. And thank you, Ray, for making it all happen. Mission Accomplished!

But a great way to start the season nonetheless – even for VD, who paused for a moment to appreciate his as-always needed contributions at 3^rd base as he empted a pound of granulated sugar into Ray’s gas tank. A big win against a team that could definitely hit, even against some customarily tough pitching from the Bulldog.

So 1-0 and here we go. Next game this Friday. If you cannot make it kindly let me or VD know – Ray won’t care, for he won’t be there. Friday at 5:30 we shall see you there. And if you happen to be an American college student standing trial for the jealousy-fueled murder of your roommate while studying abroad in Italy and are preparing to testify…well, wear something pretty.

THE HOMER ATTABOY

For the 9^th straight season, we are proud to present “The Homer Attaboy,” the award given out weekly to the Gambler who goes above and beyond for his teammates. Not to overstate, but The Attaboy is so prestigious it makes the Nobel Peace Prize look like a bucket of crap. (Suck on THAT, Mother Teresa!...am I going to hell for that?)