Really, fella on the softball team against whom we play double-headers, and to whom we forfeited the first (but not the second) of our games on account of our not yet having enough players when that first game was to begin?
After the game was over, about an hour ahead of our scheduled time to be off of the playing fields, and you approached us about playing an umpire-free scrimmage game, we responded positively and enthusiastically. This was only natural, since all of our players were still around, and as interested as yours in getting their time’s and money’s worth, and since our teams have been friendly in the past, and everyone was there to play softball in the first place.
Between the end of the official game we did play and your invitation to continue playing, your team had, not uncharacteristically, taken the field and started some batting practice. Granted, it’d have been a shame to see the field go to waste–hence the scrimmage game we were gearing up to start playing.
After the person at bat was done practicing, however, another of your players began. This, too, was no big deal, as it was understood (if unspoken) that this player was rather well in need of some batting practice, but wouldn’t take so hinderingly long, and we could get to playing our game with nigh upon an hour, still, to play. Sure enough, this player soon thereafter stated that she required no further batting practice.
After she walked off, however, and in the midst of inquiries by members of both teams as to “who’s going to take the field first?” and other such mandatory pre-game questions, you approached the plate, demanding, in spite of full knowledge of the scrimmage that was ostensibly to be played, at your own behest, even, some batting practice for yourself.
You sure did need that batting practice, too, seeing as how not a single ball got past you, and most were clobbered well into the outfield. Very impressive. Of course, by the time you were done taking your swings, at which point your team no longer wished to scrimmage, and at which time half of them had left (and at this point, as yet, none of ours had, as no relinquishment of your offer to scrimmage was set forth at any point), I didn’t find myself all that impressed, anymore. In fact, my previously high opinion of your team, as garnered a few weeks earlier with a double-header of kind-spirited and fun, polite, sportsmanship-filled games, plummeted somewhat.
So, for whose benefit, exactly, was it that you took enough time on unnecessary batting practice to destroy the intended plans of friends, (friendly) strangers, and self alike?
On behalf of our entire team and yours, the former of whom were still pretty perplexed as the latter wandered away from the field: Really?
