fuck my hammy

so my near two year exile/retirement came to an end last weekend as i once again stepped onto phoenix field for showing of the grand game of whiffle ball. of course, its not whiffle in the truest form, but the audience on this blog knows of what i speak. if anyone else happens upon this, let me know if you'd like an explanation of how we've tweaked the game.

what changes to the game i used to know and love. a new scoreboard. a homerun hedge mowed into the neighbor's yard. a fucking strike zone. this definitely affected my mind. especially evident as i K'd looking, what? thrice? sheesh.

so anyway, i snapped some pix. first we the dude. thank the heavans that he beat the cancer....



then, we have ski, who must know the strike zone very well (or rich couldn't find it against him) because i have way too many pix like this....




but then, there's this. which is kind of neat in a corny kind of way. through the blur, you get a good look at his eyes fixated on the ball like my baby's eyes when she eyes her bottle...




and last, and definitely least in terms of the pix i took, we have one of z. he eventually found his stroke towards the end of the day (unlike me....well i started hitting line drives, but not the majestic shit i used to pull in my hey day). however, on this particular shot, i seem to remember him popping out. it must have been the limp wrist that he's developed on the left coast.



so, at the end of the day, we had a hurt arm and a tweaked hammy from the old timers. at least a wasn't a full fledged pull on my part. just a little hint of something that some stretching and no trips to the gym this week (thank the lord i don't exactly believe in) fixed.

at least until next sunday when i have an opportunity to head back down bawlmer way. anyone interested? i'm not definite, but with a little cojoling from whiffle interest, i could find a way down.

keith - post the group shot. or email it my way and i'll put it up.