Speaking Of Sports

When I was new to my first real office, the boss loved having a slow-pitch softball team in the Agency League.  I had been on one before (a temp in a Navy Office) and was good enough at it, so I joined.  The Navy guys were pretty fierce about it, so I understood playing hard. 

And I was good enough at slow pitch that I could pretty much hit the ball wherever I wanted.  Mostly way over the right fielder.  Which was a serious turn-around from Little League hardball where I seldom even swung at a ball at 12.  I had changed a bit...

We had a good team.  Lots of young guys and a few women willing to play.

I'm writing this because we played a team with a blind pitcher.  The catcher would keep up a steady stream of talk to let him know where to toss the ball.   And another player stood next to him in front after the pitch so he wouldn't get hit. 

My immediate supervisor (call him "Bill") was a pretty athletic type.  Bill hit a line drive that caught the blind pitcher right between the eyes.  No one could have reacted fast enough to prevent that.  The pitcher was completely cold-cocked. 

The blind pitcher got back in a couple innings,  the teams kept playing.  Bill kept playing.  I understand that.  The pitcher refused to limit himself, the players did the same.

But I went home...