From April 2013
Here's the deal:
Outside my window it is dreary and drizzly and depressing for the third day in a row. And inside my window there is a gal in her pjs who is neither wondering, nor thinking, nor pondering anything remotely deep or interesting. The gal is actually in a bit of a cranky mood. So the gal started playing around with GIF files and decided to perk herself up by telling you a story from the weekend.
This weekend, you'll be shocked to know, there was some baseball. A lot of it. Sometimes, when one finds herself sitting in the rain at her 5th game of the weekend, she becomes a little tired of the whole thing and she needs some excitement here or there. Don't tell my people, but it's true.
And then, sometimes, baseball comes through with the excitement. But then sometimes, woe is she, she misses it.
Apparently, the most interesting part of the weekend came at kid #2's double header. The problem is that I had to leave kid #2's game early to get over to see kid #1's game so I missed the whole darn debacle. But I did hear the story retold via text, phone call and face-to-face conversation, so since there are no other thoughts in my head and since I clearly have no intention of figuring out what to make for dinner tonight and most importantly because my GIF discoveries are cracking me right up, I will retell the story here with my new fun computer magic.
There was a serious umpire issue on Sunday. This issue resulted in much confusion and bewilderment among coaches, parents, fans, siblings and players on both sides. From what I understand there might have been birds flying over head squawking about the most awful calls they had ever seen.
And while I missed the best parts, I should have known to stick around because I was witness to some foreshadowing when I left kid #2's first game. As I was walking to my car, a boy on our team slid very, very safely (like by a mile) into second base and was called out. It was so far from the right call, that I took pause right there in the parking lot and was all:
Apparently, what happened next was that there were many questionable calls in the field and at the plate on both sides in Game One. The good thing is that as our always gracious scorekeeper, Mrs. Ayers,. says, we like to "Stay Classy, San Diego" so everyone behaved admirably during Game One and was all:
Game One ended on a really, really bad call, but our classy folks just took a deep breath and decided to reset for Game Two. Before Game Two, the coaches went to their requisite meeting at the plate with the umpire who told the coaches that his strike zone would change based on the count. A pitch that was outside the plate with less than two strikes would be called a strike, but if there were two strikes the pitch would have to be over the plate to be called a strike. Yep, that's what he said.
So our coach was all:
And then the coach on the other side was all:
And that meant that all the batters trying to hit the ball at the plate were all:
And then a lot of the fans were all:
And then apparently there were arguments and ejections of fans and delaying of the game and all kinds of excitement and drama. And I like to pretend that I am really bummed that I missed it all but my people know me better. Due to the fact that I am a card-carrying member of the "I CANNOT HANDLE CONFLICT CLUB" and the fact that my husband calls me "WIDESPREAD PANIC" whenever there is controversy of any sort, had I been there I would have been all:
So it's a good thing I missed it.
I feel much less dreary now, so have a nice evening.
PS I feel the need to point out that I am a HUGE fan of respecting the umpire, even when it is very, very difficult. So difficult that one needs a brown paper bag.