Any Given Tuesday

The Dead Cougars are alive! We did it -- we beat the Misfit Beavers 13-12. Now that was true Chicago 16-inch softball. Lots of runs, great plays, unreal hustle on the basepaths, jawing with the opponent, and a tension filled 7th.

I have no idea where to begin. As Danielsen put it at the postgame, for most of our games, the discussion is about one good play we had, but after this game, there were more good plays than we could remember.

Even the day after, it's still a blur.

Should I begin with the fact that we scored more runs in one game than we have in the entire season?

Or Lipsey lighting the fuse with a solid hit on the first pitch of the game and motoring around to score on Martin's hit?

Or Martin switch hitting, doing his Brooks Robinson impersonation at 3B and setting the tone for a scrappy game by tagging and somehow scoring on an infield pop out?

Or Danielsen hitting a ground rule double to the opposite field?

Or Bobis coming through with clutch hit after clutch hit?

Or Melchoirre pitching a great game with sweet high arcs and helping his cause with an RBI single?

Or Fortier's flawless shortstop play?

Or how about Dr. Phil getting body slammed and coming back to get the final out?

Or the ump calling their SS a fuc*ing a**hole (which he did midgame, and to which they responded, "That is the only call you made right all night!")?

Or how about Julie being called a f'ing whore by their first baseman?

Nope, none of that will suffice. The way to begin is to let you know that I woke up this morning after 5 hours of sleep, very sore, slight headache, dehydrated, rough throat, in my uniform, smelling of sweat, bug spray and beer, walked down the stairs and looked at our mantle over the fireplace and next to our wedding picture (taken 13 years ago today) and a crystal vase there sits the game ball and the cork to the bottle of champagne.

Now that is a good feeling!

Our bats were alive. Everybody put a good swing on the ball. Right field, left field, hard grounders, line shots. I would venture to say that we did Joe D. proud last night.

Our defense was stellar and almost flawless. The highlight of our defense was the fact that we made the correct throws every time and did not let them take the extra base. We even made a couple putouts at the bases, most notably when Lipsey gunned down a runner at third with Martin calmly applying the tag.

Our baserunning was aggressive. We took the extra base at every chance, hustled and beat out what should have been routine outs and even had Hoglund doing the Cowboy Dance during a rundown.

Speaking of baserunning, Phil looked like he hit a brick wall when their 400 pound first baseman put his shoulder into him as he was crossing first base and knocked him sideways. Although the Beavers had arms as big as sewer pipes hanging from their sides, I was ready to throw hands right there. Thankfully the ump kicked him out of the game, which gave him ample time to sit his ample a*s on the bench and plead with the park district guy that the ump sucks and all he did was lean in to catch the throw. He was really just an innocent victim, right? At which point, Julie couldn't hold her tongue and had to call, "That is such bull!" Then one of their girlfriends let the park district guy know that the ump shouldn't call their guy an a**hole. "Then they shouldn't act like a**holes!" is what came out of my little wife's mouth. "Shut up, fuc*ing whore," is apparently how their victimized first baseman responded to that. As she said after the game, you can take the girl out of the south side, but you can't take the south side out of the girl. Joe D. said to play angry and I guess that extends to the wives as well.

This being the Dead Cougars going for their first win, of course, it wouldn't be easy. We entered the bottom of the 7th with a 13-6 lead. But the Beavers started finding the narrow gaps in our defense and came storming back to make it 13-12, putting runners on the corners with two outs. After Lipinski's brief discussion with the ump to figure out if the ejected Beaver's spot in the lineup had come up, their left handed power hitter hit a long drive down the right field line. In a turn that can only be considered poetic justice, Phil raced over to the line, camped under the ball and squeezed it to seal the victory.

Melchiorre came through with a postgame fitting for the occasion. Beer on ice, pizzas fresh out of the oven and a perfect setting on the front porch. I was happy that I was able to pop open those bottles of Wilmette's finest bubbly and now won't be haunted by them every time I open my fridge. As one Cougar put it, the beer tastes better after a win. As another said, the Cougars are undefeated in July. And as Flannery put it, "When you consider the euro, there are four distinct reasons for its increase in value, number one..." (No word on whether the Beavers were having a similar discussion at their postgame.)

Huge props to Jen and Julie, our two fans (or witnesses as Greg called them). It was a great night and well-deserved for a great bunch of guys. I was grateful that Oxer was able to make it out on his daughter's birthday, and I wish Trout and my brother could have been there (although with their enthusiasm we may have spent the postgame behind bars), but hopefully this is the first in a long line of Cougar victories.

(Thanks to Julie and Greg for some editing, text and memory help.)