Well, the lots of softball games I could have played turned into only three.  Two losses Friday and we were done, and one loss tonight.  0 for 3.   Darn.

Tonight was typical, for Sundays.  Everybody else loads up for the league tournament, bringing out ringers to strengthen their tournament team.  But we were missing 4 players and filled in with spare parts, and lost 10-9.     I'm done with that, as far as putting our own team in the league.   Next year I plan on latching on with another team and just showing up and playing.  I'll be much happier doing that than making 20  phone calls and sending 30 text messages every weekend trying to get enough players.  I'll let someone else worry about that.

Friday night was rough.  Incredibly rough.  I have no idea how many games I've played at third base in my life, but our 2nd game Friday night was by far the most difficult I've ever had at 3rd base.
We lost our 1st game by a lot.  We just had one of those games where we didn't look ready to play.  We didn't hit, didn't field, and got blown out.
We then had to play the loser's bracket final, and I got beat up at 3rd base.  I've never had anything even close to an experience like that.   I came out of it with only one massive bruise on my chest, but if I'd been a little quicker I could have had more.  Most of the balls hit at me I just didn't have time to get in the way enough to get hit.  I certainly wouldn't have fielded them. I made a couple of very nice plays for outs, barely saw a few balls as they zipped under my glove or by my ear or over my head, and took a few off my arms and wrists and one off my chest.    Nothing easy at all, and with the ones under my glove or right next to me that I didn't field, it didn't bother me at all that I missed them.  They were that hard.
Three comments from three different teammates after the game, all of whom are good defensive players:
 1)"I thought about asking you if you wanted to switch positions with me, just to give you a break, but I didn't want to go over there."
2) "Hell, if Kevin couldn't get a glove on it I didn't see any point in putting anyone else over there."
3) "I felt sorry for him but I wasn't going to volunteer."

Still, in the bottom of the 7th we were only down 23-20, bases loaded and nobody out, and I was at bat.   I'd hit the ball good all night and I was confident.   I'd also been hitting nice low line drives into right field  and between 1st and 2nd base all night (and for the last couple weeks), and the right fielder (Brian Brohm, incidentally) was playing deep.  I felt sure I could drop one in front of him and be on 1st base as the winning run.   
And what happened?  Well, I hit it hard.  A nice line drive, easily over the head of a normal first baseman.  When I hit it I thought it was perfect.  But their first baseman (who had drilled me in the chest earlier) was about 6'6" tall, and he snagged it for an out.  And our base runner on 2nd was about twenty feet off the bag as the throw came over and he got doubled up, so there were 2 outs suddenly and the rally was all but over. We lost.
I'm still a bit bothered by that bit of base running.  There's really no excuse for getting doubled up on a line drive when we needed the runner on base BEHIND him to score to just tie the game.  But that's how it goes.  It happens to everybody at some point, but that was a bad time to make that mistake.