The Orangesleeves Are The 2004 Champions of Brooklyn Kickball!
I don't know what else to say. Except all this:
Back in June, as the O'Sleeves were cast away to the Red Monster, aka the "Card Table", no one gave us respect, or even a chance. After our first practice, located behind the Red Monster, on the wood-chip field, I said to Jens, "This team is terrible and needs a ton of work." Jens threatened to dissolve the team: even he conceded there's no fun in getting destroyed twice every Sunday. But I believed the team had a chance, and I told him not to despair.
Clearly the turning point was BA's defection. Franz wanted to have a good WWF-style joke on us, and he did. After that pivotal game, a close one we lost, Franz said the Pirates' only concern was to kick the ball to BA, so they could do their routine. They were never worried about losing, he claimed, just about how well they could rub it in. Shy was very upset.
That was it. Jesse Ballgame was made captain and permanent shortstop, as he always believed he could make any throw from third, yet would always spaz. Lanky Ben, his New Mexican buddy, and clearly the MVP of the finals, would complement him at 2nd. Then we got more help from everywhere as Sweetpea's aptitude and dexterity for the game dramatically improved (he is most-improved, hands-down), while adding his black-belt brother Justin's good kick to the lineup. "Sweet-Legs" Liz came over from the defunct Head-Hunters (Sonny, I really liked you and your team, and I hope you return next year in full force), and brought her man Bill, a very cool, reliable player. Baseball purist and deep kicker Mark, and his boy Rich somehow meandered (luckily) into the lineup and the outfield, as Mr. J, with his steady foot and aggressive base-running, went to third. Danny Vera was essential for team-bonding. Meanwhile Jens and I were willing to play anywhere including nowhere (shit, we got a league to run). As for my precious, original, slutty sleeves, they became committed to getting better and practiced often. Shy's intangibles became just as obvious her tangibles; Minty and Deann were hustling faster. We were becoming a real team, and the next week after BA's departure, we beat the Pirates, although Franz had to leave early to greet his very classy girlfriend, Nina, at JFK. We talked the next day and he congratulated me, but I said, well, one win does not a champion make.
So we practiced more. We were winning most of the time, although, many times along the way, we'd regress, do stupid bullshit and lose badly. But no matter, every Tuesday we practiced and went to Black Betty. Fans started making us banners and giving us Jagermeister. Up until mid-June, I really didn't like kickball: I had suffered some personal disappointments and would go through post-kickball depression every Monday. But no more. Even I was starting to truly enjoy this shit. Going into the playoffs, I felt good about us, although I knew winning it all wouldn't be easy. I didn't think we were the favorite, and I let everyone know.
We took 2 of 3 from the Daggers in the semis, and that surprised everyone. But we got mercied out by the Pirates. Both the Pirates and the Sleeves needed two more wins for the title.
Going into yesterday, everyone was really nervous. We were without Jens, and that's bad, because he's the team's leader and knows how to keep people positive. I allowed a whiskey shot to anyone wanting, but that did not cool nerves. Seriously, beyond knowing Franz was guaranteeing revenge for his sword's befouling, my biggest fear was that Shy was going to cry, and I just could not have that. I had a vision of it earlier last week, and it made me tougher. Call me a patronizing jerkoff, but I didn't want the season to end in tears. If the O'Sleeves could win it all, in this inaugural year, all of us would know the joy, and we'd be free, say, like the 90s Bulls, as opposed to being slaves to self-defeat, like the 90s Knicks (pre-Spree). She wouldn't ever be upset about losing again, and neither would I. Let's just win this one.
But we got wasted in game in 1, 11-2. Everything went wrong. Rich and Mark, 2 of our starting outfielders, were way late (i'm sure they had a good reason). Liz was mad at me for not deferring to her when she called for the ball, and when i yelled for her (not at her) to not kick a very slow pitch. There were errors galore, or just plays missed by a hair. Those puddles didn't help. I did call the Parks Department earlier in the week to request some tendin', but with their budgetary woes, be happy we even have a field.
Then someone popped our only ball. Even though I gave every team a ball, and had another one last week, someone stole it, and unfortunately no one brought theirs (i forgot to call Franz). I thought we were fucked and I'd go down as the lamest Commish ever. Fortunately, the other yellow kickball league was around, ya know, the family league that usually plays in the outfield. 2 weeks ago, on a Friday night, I met the most charming little 7 year-old girl in McCarren Park as I was biking through. I stopped to watch them play and she comes up to me and says, "I know you, you're the Commish" and I showed her my Ibike. She made fun of me for playing the Thompson Twins "Hold Me Now." "You like that?" she mocked, as i sang to her.
So I see her over on the pathway holding the ball. I came over, get down on one knee and explain to her the situation: we don't have a ball, it's the Finals, can we please use yours? I'll give you money just to borrow it....
"No!" she barks.
"Angel, I'll do anything u say. I'll take you and your friends for ice cream sundaes with all the toppings, or whatever you wish. Pleeeeeease?"
"No!"
"Honey, come on, whatever you want. Just say it!"
"NOOOO!"
So, her parents made her. I literally deprived children of a night's fun in order to facilitate the season's proper ending. Oh sure, I had the Chuck D. ball, but that's the friggen trophy. Actually i think they also had a different, almost mass less, big red ball, not to be confused with the Big Blue Kickball from the assholes in the next field.
I brought the egg-shaped yellow ball to the field. Then, as agreed between Franz and me, we took a break and let everyone else play. Sports objected: he planned to enjoy a quick ending followed by beers at the nest. He had to write a lesson. Sorry, I replied, but I plan to milk this last night. For the first time the entire season, I left the field during kickball and got a beer at the Nest. Fuck it, I'm breaking my own one-drink maximum rule, but many were anyway. I came back, fired up the grill, got a burger down my throat, and boldly faced the prospect of winning 2 in a row against the number one seed.
I cited Monica Seles, the coolest sista ever to ever play tennis. Would she give up after losing the first set to the very ugly and *robotic* Steffi Graf? No fucking way. She'd grunt and sweat her sweet little ass to Wimbledon glory. I wanted us to be her. I told the team I loved them and didn't care if we lost, as long as we willing to entertain resilience, and always back each other up.
Ben was kicking like a motherfucker. Everyone better recognize. That kid will start as second baseman on the All-Star team if for only his performance last night. Everything he touched was powerful, accurate, and in a word, golden, and he got us going. We scored a few runs early, fielded well, and wrapped up a nice 5-2 win relatively easily. We're playing our best. But as Michael Jordan said after da Bulls won their record 72 games in the 95-96 regular season, "We haven't won shit."(or something like that). Dave Mathematics heard me say that and he's like, "Yeah, you haven't won shit!" Well, neither have you, no one ever has in BK. The next game determines that.
So here we go. Last game of the season. Where the fuck is Marv Albert and the Goodyear Blimp? Gotta get them for next year. Yes, there was the inevitable controversy. That first interference play really steamed me, but my poor Dagger Dave was sticking to his call, rather nervously though. Hans had his back, and I give them credit. But that brought in a run, and kept their inning alive. Then, after I caught a ball for what I believe was the fourth out, Ben from the Pirates claimed the ball was dead because Mark yelled from the outfield not to pitch, but DeAnn did anyway. I told Ben that this was not the 1972 Basketball Olympics, and the Pirates are not the Russians. You gotta have a sense of history. Besides, only the ump can stop play.
Remarkably, Hans claimed i gave him more shit than the Pirates did, which I can't believe after the tirade LoRen gave him back in the first game. I guess I gave it more consistently last night. But somebody had to be the Billy Martin of the Sleeves. Nevertheless, I voted for Hans as best ump and Dave as the “Nicest.” AWWWWWWWWWWWW. btw, if u haven't voted for the kickies yet, DO SO, as BA shuts down the polls at the end of the week.
"Angel, I'll do anything u say. I'll take you and your friends for ice cream sundaes with all the toppings, or whatever you wish. Pleeeeeease?"
"No!"
"Honey, come on, whatever you want. Just say it!"
"NOOOO!"
So, her parents made her. I literally deprived children of a night's fun in order to facilitate the season's proper ending. Oh sure, I had the Chuck D. ball, but that's the friggen trophy. Actually i think they also had a different, almost mass less, big red ball, not to be confused with the Big Blue Kickball from the assholes in the next field.
I brought the egg-shaped yellow ball to the field. Then, as agreed between Franz and me, we took a break and let everyone else play. Sports objected: he planned to enjoy a quick ending followed by beers at the nest. He had to write a lesson. Sorry, I replied, but I plan to milk this last night. For the first time the entire season, I left the field during kickball and got a beer at the Nest. Fuck it, I'm breaking my own one-drink maximum rule, but many were anyway. I came back, fired up the grill, got a burger down my throat, and boldly faced the prospect of winning 2 in a row against the number one seed.
I cited Monica Seles, the coolest sista ever to ever play tennis. Would she give up after losing the first set to the very ugly and *robotic* Steffi Graf? No fucking way. She'd grunt and sweat her sweet little ass to Wimbledon glory. I wanted us to be her. I told the team I loved them and didn't care if we lost, as long as we willing to entertain resilience, and always back each other up.
Ben was kicking like a motherfucker. Everyone better recognize. That kid will start as second baseman on the All-Star team if for only his performance last night. Everything he touched was powerful, accurate, and in a word, golden, and he got us going. We scored a few runs early, fielded well, and wrapped up a nice 5-2 win relatively easily. We're playing our best. But as Michael Jordan said after da Bulls won their record 72 games in the 95-96 regular season, "We haven't won shit."(or something like that). Dave Mathematics heard me say that and he's like, "Yeah, you haven't won shit!" Well, neither have you, no one ever has in BK. The next game determines that.
So here we go. Last game of the season. Where the fuck is Marv Albert and the Goodyear Blimp? Gotta get them for next year. Yes, there was the inevitable controversy. That first interference play really steamed me, but my poor Dagger Dave was sticking to his call, rather nervously though. Hans had his back, and I give them credit. But that brought in a run, and kept their inning alive. Then, after I caught a ball for what I believe was the fourth out, Ben from the Pirates claimed the ball was dead because Mark yelled from the outfield not to pitch, but DeAnn did anyway. I told Ben that this was not the 1972 Basketball Olympics, and the Pirates are not the Russians. You gotta have a sense of history. Besides, only the ump can stop play.
Remarkably, Hans claimed i gave him more shit than the Pirates did, which I can't believe after the tirade LoRen gave him back in the first game. I guess I gave it more consistently last night. But somebody had to be the Billy Martin of the Sleeves. Nevertheless, I voted for Hans as best ump and Dave as the “Nicest.” AWWWWWWWWWWWW. btw, if u haven't voted for the kickies yet, DO SO, as BA shuts down the polls at the end of the week.
Back to the 3rd and Final Game....
Top of the fifth: Sleeves up, 3-2. The first Pirate kicker gets it weakly to third, Mr. J throws it to me at first, and I miss her point blank. I couldn't believe myself, and the misplay was unnecessary as Mark came in from right to cover first. I didn't know he was doing that. So now they got one on and no-one out, although, the Pirates are in the bottom of the order, and we still get to kick. But wait, some dumbass from the pirates went onto the field during the play and grabbed Mr. J! DO-Over! How many of those have we had? So now, the girl does the same thing, but this time we get her out. The next 2 kickers fall swiftly.
There are few moments in life where ya feel this great, this perfect, this sensational and ethereal: perhaps when you finally get to kiss the girl you've wanted all of high-school, as Tears for Fears' "Head Over Heels" goes off in your head, or maybe that first day of college when your roommate has got the Jack and Blow laid out on the table as your mom's helping you move in, or when u finally get to see Lola suck Nicole's nipple, or when Naked Nipple fucks you up the ass. Money can't get buy this feeling and Alzheimer's can never erode the memory. The O'Sleeves were a fucking joke, yet now we're jumping around and getting bum-rushed by fans, 70s-style. There was a roar on that 3rd out that will resonate and shock me so delightfully in my more waxing moments.
Damn, Jens shoulda been here.
To everyone, I thank you for the best summer in a long time. I've really enjoyed meeting so many cool cats. yes, some of u were assholes, and I hope u either get with the BK groove or fuck off forever. But 99% of you got BK from the start, and I hope you all return for our second season, and then forever. I guarantee it'l only get better, and so many people are committed to improving the league. For starters, we want amplification every week, and I’ll be tireless in acquiring that permit.
Lastly, to the Pirates: Franz, Loren, Sports, MVP, Ben, Nipple, Tank, Adam, JoAnn (best rack), Michelle Nicole, Black Pirate, Dave Mathematics, HQ, Dan, and the rest…I got mad respect for ya’ll. Your team’s great, and did help BK enormously in becoming the best league in the world. I expect to see many of you in Philly when we kick ass next month. You were very gracious in defeat, and that’s key. We've had some bad moments, but I've gotten to know many of you, and you are my friends.
Top of the fifth: Sleeves up, 3-2. The first Pirate kicker gets it weakly to third, Mr. J throws it to me at first, and I miss her point blank. I couldn't believe myself, and the misplay was unnecessary as Mark came in from right to cover first. I didn't know he was doing that. So now they got one on and no-one out, although, the Pirates are in the bottom of the order, and we still get to kick. But wait, some dumbass from the pirates went onto the field during the play and grabbed Mr. J! DO-Over! How many of those have we had? So now, the girl does the same thing, but this time we get her out. The next 2 kickers fall swiftly.
There are few moments in life where ya feel this great, this perfect, this sensational and ethereal: perhaps when you finally get to kiss the girl you've wanted all of high-school, as Tears for Fears' "Head Over Heels" goes off in your head, or maybe that first day of college when your roommate has got the Jack and Blow laid out on the table as your mom's helping you move in, or when u finally get to see Lola suck Nicole's nipple, or when Naked Nipple fucks you up the ass. Money can't get buy this feeling and Alzheimer's can never erode the memory. The O'Sleeves were a fucking joke, yet now we're jumping around and getting bum-rushed by fans, 70s-style. There was a roar on that 3rd out that will resonate and shock me so delightfully in my more waxing moments.
Damn, Jens shoulda been here.
To everyone, I thank you for the best summer in a long time. I've really enjoyed meeting so many cool cats. yes, some of u were assholes, and I hope u either get with the BK groove or fuck off forever. But 99% of you got BK from the start, and I hope you all return for our second season, and then forever. I guarantee it'l only get better, and so many people are committed to improving the league. For starters, we want amplification every week, and I’ll be tireless in acquiring that permit.
Lastly, to the Pirates: Franz, Loren, Sports, MVP, Ben, Nipple, Tank, Adam, JoAnn (best rack), Michelle Nicole, Black Pirate, Dave Mathematics, HQ, Dan, and the rest…I got mad respect for ya’ll. Your team’s great, and did help BK enormously in becoming the best league in the world. I expect to see many of you in Philly when we kick ass next month. You were very gracious in defeat, and that’s key. We've had some bad moments, but I've gotten to know many of you, and you are my friends.
BUT...
If we got egged or showered with kitty litter, there woulda been a brawl. We beat you there too, as our special agents foiled your scurvy schemes. But if still want revenge on Jessica for fucking with Franz’s sword, her number is 646-528-0067, and she lives near the Statue of Liberty. Much Love.
To all the da Playaz: see you at the Kickies, on Sunday, October 3rd, at 8pm, or sooner. And yes, I will be in touch about Philly’s All-Star Game. I want Shakamania, The Orphans, The Daggers, the Pirates and the Champs to give us your 6 best people. Anyone can come and help us out; feel free to roll down 95 with us. The odds are against us as Baltimore’s league is far bigger and more established. They've been around since 2001! But I would bet anyone that BK is the best. Evah.
To all the da Playaz: see you at the Kickies, on Sunday, October 3rd, at 8pm, or sooner. And yes, I will be in touch about Philly’s All-Star Game. I want Shakamania, The Orphans, The Daggers, the Pirates and the Champs to give us your 6 best people. Anyone can come and help us out; feel free to roll down 95 with us. The odds are against us as Baltimore’s league is far bigger and more established. They've been around since 2001! But I would bet anyone that BK is the best. Evah.