As I walked in to my softball game tonight I saw the other team warming up. A quick glimpse was enough for me to know my team was going to win. By a substantial amount.
They were not good. Not good at all. I was afraid we were going to hurt somebody. Luckily, my teammates and I were smart enough to realize this. We took it very easy, avoided any hits that could cause physical damage to the other guys, and finished the game in three innings.
Our opponents were called the Text Pistols. I guessed they were either from some cell phone company, some I.T. thingamabob, or maybe even some proofreaders or something.
But one of them told me they all worked in the English department at UofL. I said I had an English degree from UofL myself, but wasn't making much use of it. He said most people don't, but I knew that already.
I also wanted to tell him that the English department at UofL plays softball exactly like I always suspected they would, but I refrained from saying so.
1 comment:
You stole my Shmoo! Let it be known I was him first last year on my blog before you were hip to the whole blog scene. Nah, nah, nah, nah, naaaaah, nah.
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