HST Opening Day 042008

Regular Season
Game Date: 
April 20, 2008
Epicocity of Game: 

Apologies upfront for the distinct lack of a recap.

Life is what it brings, it’s not about cars and fancy things.
Or hair salons and diamond rings girls. Don’t you lose no sleep.
Life is all about, the things you’ll never figure out.
It’s all about the people you love, and memories you keep.
Classified "All About U"

When Dom and I were on the Mongol Rally, we had a run from Astrakhan, Russia to Bishkek, Kyrgyzstan through half of Kazakhstan that lasted over 7 days. During these days we fought to keep our cars running and to survive the heat of the desert, we slept on the ground beneath the stars and continuously inhaled volumes of sand. When we finally reached Bishkek, we were tattered and torn. With a substantial amount of luck, we stumbled into a wealth of good fortune and were treated to 3 days of luxury at the hands of an anonymous benefactor. One evening as we all sat around telling stories of the rally, our benefactor observed, "There is no greater clean than a shower after being dirty for many days, no drink better tasting that the one following many nights gone dry." - read more on the rally here

On Sunday, there was no wiffle greater than the one that comes after many months of dormant bats, no weather better than that following the long cold of the Vermont winter.

A mere week earlier, HST had been engulfed in a snow squall that called into question the intelligence of scheduling a wiffle game 6 months in advance for late April. Thankfully Sunday arrived with superb weather and the wiffle faithful (vacationing Commish withstanding) crawled from their winter shells and broke out the old arms.

I don't remember a ton from the game. Well I do know that J-Rod and Unit were tight on the mound. There was an early slam off the bat of J-Rod and my batting stunk a lot. In the absence of West Coast Howard Wingman Howell, I attempted to raze No Nickname Atocha and he promptly took me for a trip. That really blew, but I did rob him of a single later on. Ox showed up, firm in his commitment to DH and avoid the field to help his broken mug heal. He ended up pitching. The Player of the Year, El Guapo, was sidelined following a early season surgery. His influence was felt on the theoretical mic. LowBaller of the Year, Lonichiro, serenaded downtown Bristol with a 7th inning rendition of the National Anthem, sensational. The surgeon made his inaugural HST appearrance and we welcomed Michael "I can't remember what nickname Mike gave him" Dennison to the mix. Even Claudio emerged from his Nuke Wonderworld to partake, claiming afterwards, "Days like these really don't make leaving easy." My team lost by a mere run in the end.

Since revamping the website, I have heard the same comment pretty much universally utilized, "You are crazy." There is a fine line that separates passion and insanity and though popular opinion suggests otherwise, I like to think I tend to the former. As my wife will attest, if it wasn't wiffle it would be something else. I understand that not everyone is going to be as fanatical as myself and everyone enjoys and takes away different parts. At the end of the day, I am fairly confident that everyone has a pretty good time and all for the cost of a six pack, a $4 bat and ball, and some white spray paint.

The thing with wiffle and specifically LowBall wiffle is that it is more than just a silly game and make no mistake I do not lose sight of just how silly it really is. It is an experience that has grown from simply involving good friends to involving full families. My daughter talked about the wiffle ball game for nearly a week prior, constantly asking how long until the wiffle starts. At the conclusion of Sunday, as I tucked her into bed, she asked, "Dadda, when is the next wiffle ball game?" I suspect she was not the only one, young or old, to drift off to sleep with the same question in their head.

Until the next wiffle,