This is, by far, the most entertaining game review ever! I have no choice but to make sure this is shared with everyone. For those who are unaware, Jim took my dictation while we fumed over the snoring mound of flesh and hair on his couch.
Dictated by Local Inebriated Funnyman (June 4th, 2006, 4:44 AM)
After being spotted to a 3-0 lead. Leadoff single by Erik Kent. He scored later on a single by Jeremy. Schmidt, basically Wadewitz singled and alright that’s the second run of the inning. And then that guy over [The Bub, who is passed out on the couch 1 foot away. His mouth is still open!! And he’s still snoring!!! “I want to drop kick him,” said Carlson, “in the face.”] there flew out to zero.
He’s still fucking snoring…with his mouth open. And then, with drool. On your couch.
That means he struck out. Second inning, we held them scoreless. Ah, bottom of the inning was started by Marshall. Three singles in a row. A putout by Erik and then a fielder’s choice by me, where I was on first. So the hits kept rolling. (Burp) Wow, I’m not going to lie, that felt good. Wow. Oh, there were already three outs that inning. Fly out to center. Fly out to center. You’re gonna have to go back in there and add in that we got 6 runs that inning. To make it an 8-3 game. Okay. Third inning they got 2. After two runs by Captain No Shits, Wadewitz led off with a single and was forced out at second by captain carrot penis, otherwise known as the drooling bubblehead. Mandrew in parenthesis.
Alright so we’re in the third inning. Ahhh, let’s see. After shutting them down again, they got zero runs. Marshall started it off with a single but then was forced out. Then another single by Matty Christel. Yeah, ahhhh, then Erik Voight flew out to zero to end the inning. Anyway we got two runs that inning. So at the end of that inning it was 10-3. Well, they got 4 in their top half to make it 10-7. Alright ahh, let’s see. Top of the next inning, I led off with a single. I’m not lying it was a piss-rod. The Local Inebriated Funnyman hit an absolute piss-rod to center. After Erik Kent’s doube, I went to third. So it was second and third. Then you walked and Jeremy hit a homer. So it was a grand slam. After the home run, Dave struck out swinging. Ah, base hit be Wadewitz. Then a double by The Bub scored a run. Marshall struck out. $lash produced an out. That’s all it says. FO. He didn’t strike out. I don’t know where he flew out, but it’s still an out. So after they didn’t get any runs the next inning, that’s what it says in the game report, neither did we.
So after no runs by them, it was our turn. Two outs. Local Inebriated Funnyman lined one to center. Singled to center. In front of the guy that was driving them in all night. Erik Kent was the man. Put in something about the two out rally. At 14-11 Carlson would not let this lead decrease any further. You’ve already added in the piss-rod. You might as well add it lower the hands. Lowering the hands was an absolute battle decision. [break for urinating]. Where’d you end up? So anyway, single to lead off next inning. (You have to add to something in about how you thought the game was out of reach. So you made a bunch of defensive replacements. But it wasn’t. It wasn’t out of reach.) After they didn’t get anything. You get that in there? Cuz my single was to lead off the inning. Then this is where it got really tricky. Erik Kent had a home run, where we I scored and so did he for two RBI. Then a base hit by you and a fielder’s choice. Then it skips all the way down. I think it just stops scoring so you can just cut it off after that. We got 4 runs that inning. You got that in the game review? Final score was 8-3...10-3…14-7…14-11… So, 17-11.
We have to edit this. I’m going to tear it apart of verbage alone. You’re adding? I can’t read that cuz my eyes won’t focus. What is this? What does it say? His mouth is open and he is a nuisance. I can’t think straight with his mouth open. Ah, I’m typing in the words we’re both thinking (slash, his mouth is fucking open and he’s snoring and I can’t believe it period I want to stab him in the face with a boot. It’s a good thing we just ignored him when he was at the stadium. And that big boobs magee over at the Why Not II decided he was not worth his time to acknowledge. Bub, make me a sandwich before I wake up. Oh, he’s not. God, he is still sucking in wind immensely. Hurricane Katrina anyone? I’m not lying to you, it sounds like wind tunnels blowing through the downtown sector of Milwaukee.
Game ended. We got three outs pretty easily. Though I’m not representing my third run, which is pretty important. God, would you shut up? I’m gonna put a sock in my mouth. My balls are out! They got the rest of the outs, the game ended. And everyone celebrated.
And with so, everyone else sat out. Steve tried to decrease his infinite ERA. While lasting 6 innings and shaking off numerous, numerous calls by the Funnyman, he managed to get outs. This overlooks the fact that Marshall after a phantom tag almost started a fight with the same man that decked our same fat pitcher that blew his Wadewitz last year. Many words were exchanged, no punches were thrown, and Marshall retained his dignity. How do I rephrase this? You retype that? Jesus Christ! He’s still snoring and it’s louder. Has anyone heard the phrase “my balls are out?” He’s grabbing his balls right now, his mouth is open, and he refused to pay for any beer.
Anywho with a new sense of ignorance between my ears and a natural sense of deafness outside them, I am now ignoring the fat man with the blue shirt and the blue jeans and bringing you the rest of the game review. For the most part, there isn’t much to brag about. We scored some runs. We got some outs. The most important thing is that he’s not waking up right now while I’m looking at him with distain in my face. I hate him. It’s so loud! Unbelievable!!
In short, we wrapped it up. The fights didn’t outweigh the runs we scored nor the experience we gained. We are that much better of a team for having struggled through a strife caused by the people we know and the people we meet on the other side of the diamond – he’s still fucking snoring. I wish I could stab a dagger through his woman’s of an adam’s apple.
Tune in next week for a new installment of Club Tap softball weekly. Keep those hits roarin’ and those Bubs a snorin’.
Labels: Club Tap, LIFM