I can’t tell you why people feel compelled to tell me this, but I’ve heard it so many times that the words are practically emblazoned across my brain like a tramp stamp on a Midwestern stripper: “It’s better to be presumed ignorant than to open your mouth and remove all doubt.”

With your permission, I’d like to propose a slight modification to this sage morsel of wisdom. “It’s better to people believe you’re athletic because you’re tall than to pick up a baseball bat and prove without equivocation that you don’t have the athletic ability God gave the Southeast-Asian, Blue-Haired Nocturnal Shitmonkey.”

My son was named to his baseball league’s first-ever all-star team for seven- and eight-year-olds (this statement is subject to disagreement from the league, which prefers to call it a “select” team so the players who weren’t “selected” don’t think they suck) (which they do). The team played its first game yesterday, and although they held a formidable opponent to just five runs, our boys generated the same amount of offense they would have if they’d replaced their aluminum bats with al dente fettuccini noodles.

It was clear that the boys needed to work on their hitting, so the coaches told them to come back to the field after lunch. Each kid got an opportunity to hit 10 pitches off of the machine, which was set at 40 miles per hour. Some hit, some didn’t. But the atmosphere was somewhat playful and jovial, and we all enjoyed each other’s company for a while.

As practice was wrapping up, I called out to my friend and co-coach Mark, who is thick and scary and bald.

“Mark! Let me hit a few!”

He laughed. Mark has the ornery, “fuck you” attitude to match his relentless New York accent. He had a couple of tryouts with Major League teams back in the day, and now he drives a big, red Hummer (that gets nine miles per gallon), which probably means his penis is the size of your pinkie finger (but don’t tell him I said that because I’m too young to die).

Anyway, Mark agreed to let me embarrass myself. After all of the kids were safely behind the dugout screen, I grabbed the longest bat I could find (which was also about the size of your pinkie finger).

I swung at the first pitch and missed it entirely. Hearty laughter ensued.

I hit the crap out of the next pitch. It went straight up into the air, hung up there for eight or nine seconds, and then landed four feet in front of me.

I made good, solid contact with the next eight pitches, each of which bolted through the infield as a ground ball.

When I was done, Mark wanted his turn. He hit three balls into the courtyard of the elementary school beyond center field. The boys oohed and aahed from the dugout (like they’d never seen some ‘roided-out freak show hitting home runs before).

I walked away from practice with a big hole in my pride and a healthy blister on my left palm.

Today, I’m an invalid. My back, neck and shoulders feel as though they’ve been attacked by a legion of very angry meat tenderizers. Tying my shoes this morning was an exercise in pain tolerance. And I’m not certain I’ll ever be able to show my face at that baseball field again.

My son is at home throwing up today. Coincidence? I think not.

Comments

You humiliated him to the point of nausea. Excellent.

"attacked by a legion of very angry meat tenderizers"
I am totally going to use this!

Holy mother of pearl I choked on my coffee. You slay me!

Poor HotWife... Its going to a long couple of days for you, since Danny will be too sore to preform his husbandly duties.

You at least threw Mark some chin music, right?

A great story to start my morning! Thank you. Humiliation and vomit are an entertainment power couple.

Don't feel bad. My husband is 6'9" and therefore is constantly bombarded by strangers asking if he played basketball in school. And then they act totally dumbfounded when he tells them no. (as a matter of record, he SUCKED big hairy monkey balls at basketball. So he played football instead).

Sorry you are sore today!

Dude, I threw my shoulder out playing Wii Bowling. But, at least I threw a few strikes in the process. Just sayin'.

forgive me for gatecrashing your blog, but I wanted as many parents to read this story about a 26-year-old leukaemia sufferer who is writing an online diary with one aim - to save others.
It is so utterly moving and, for any mum or dad out there, totally heartbreaking.
He only has weeks left to live - I just thought it would be nice if he received all the support he could get from all the mums and dads out there.

My husband is 6'6" and everyone assumes that because he is tall he can play basketball. Every time he picks up a basketball he is not so gently reminded that he sucks. He sucks hardcore. He looks something like a mentally challenged spidermonkey on crack while on the basketball court. He always manages to either pull or sprain something in the process as well. The next day both his pride and his body are both in the crapper. Sorry to hear about the pain (physical and emotional)and lets hope that neither are beyond repair.

Very funny! My husband and I have run a "very elite" travel baseball team in OC for several years. The dads who are hardest on their kids and most convinced their kid is the next Babe Ruth? The ones who have never played a day of baseball! You have many fun years ahead of you making fun of sports dads. They are nonstop entertainment!

That's hilarious - I recently participated in a "parent work outs" with my 6 year old, and one of the other moms was a real-live brown belt, yet for some reason I was compelled to try and show her up with my fierce kicks and jabs. The next day, I could not even type from the shoulder pain, and I groaned so pathetically getting my arse up out of a chair that my kids said they felt sorry for me. And they're mean as snakes.

This is why God made Advil.

http://meandyouandellie.blogspot.com/search/label/by%20Jacquie

I love this blog! So funny and witty!

Can everyone hook me up and vote for my handsome husband and baby? It would be an awesome father’s day gift.

http://www.mycentraljersey.com/apps/pbcs.dll/section?category=PluckGalleryPhoto&plckPhotoID=a764e751-1ab3-4023-b22b-2fb6a4ec8b64&plckGalleryID=0f0d73d7-0624-4348-a895-60be8419bb49

I think you need to redeem yourself. Perhaps you should challenge the Hummer guy to a write off? Or a nice, healthy debate? A pissing contest?

That's OK. This weekend we got one of those inflatable jumpy things you rent for birthday parties and I decided to be the "fun mom" and get in and do some UFC-ing with my husband, Candy Ass, and the boys. I spent the next two days in bed, totally unable to move, in dire pain. I did manage to ground-and-pound Candy Ass' (photo on blog), but then karma (ain't it a bitch) kicked in and the jumpy thing kicked my ass.

You are so funny. Love your blog!

Sorry I missed out on seeing that! I too am telling everyone that my son is on an "all star" team instead of a "select" team as we're required to call it! Great to see you and Hot Wife on Sunday. Good luck to your team, maybe we'll be playing you this weekend!

Hahaha. I have had that feeling so many times I don't even bother anymore. I think you need to challenge roid boy to something that is not quite so...athletic??

A big hole in your pride? I'm used to that feeling, mostly from growing up as one of the biggest geeks in school.

You know where I'm coming from, right?

Don't feel so bad. My husband is assistant coach for our 8 yr. old's Little League team and there was a practice session where the kids were extremely low energy. He wanted to kick their little butts for playing so lousy, so after practice he told them to run the bases. He led the way and as he rounded second base, he heard a pop and felt his hamstring cramp up like nobody's business. He had to save face, so he continued to home plate trying to hold back a pain searing cry.

I totally laughed my ass off when he told me the story. I give the man no sympathy.

Thanks for making me so happy to be 5' 5 1/2"

Very enjoyable read. Sorry about the aftereffects, although you got great blog material from the experience.

Oh my you have just kicked your own ass. With witnesses. LOVE it!

Karma?

Okay but how's your pinkie finger?

I seriously spit my soda out all over my keyboard. You are awesome.

it's okay...mark sits to pee. i have pictures.

Better watch for Hummers in the parking lot after publishing this post.

Oddly, I just posted about my softball experience tonight! But umm fingers crossed I won't be sore tomorrow. You are a brave, brave man to try hitting in front of others. I try to reserve that "practice" for cages. Of course then I hit well in a cage and my game goes to crap!

Hey Danny, congrats on the Lakers score tonight (totally unrelated to this post)

Dude...we're gettin' old.

Oh man! You violated the first rule of Dad Hero-worship: Never, Ever try to do anything physical when a larger, alpha male is around!

Rookie!

Last week on our beach vacay, the resort held a "Plastic Alligator Wrestling Contest for Dads." There were several, very large men lined up and though my kids and wife urged me to join in, I knew better.
Hence the saying:

"It is better to leave them wondering, than to leave them truly dissapointed."

DGM, so funny!! I am 4'11 and for once, I got to be the heroine. We do a modified wiffle ball around here...My kids know I ski, and I am a runner. They had no idea I could knock the snot out of a wiffle ball. (Otherwise, I am the world's best spectator Ma and do all the games, etc. Even the ones my kids don't play in.) Our "field" is a one acre lot, and "over the fence" is the shed, roughly 40 yards. I cleared the shed 6 times from homeplate. Next time we played, I couldn't beat the infield and had the biggest damn rasberry you've ever seen...You can't win 'em all, but it's fun to try! Your kid will appreciate that you did it, even if he also remembers the coach wacked the crap out of it.

Just take solice in the knowledge you MUST have a larger penis than he does. Maybe at the next ball game you could bring a ruler for good measure.

Or ask him if you can borrow his hummer...it may not increase the size of your pecker but it's known to increase the size of your balls by at LEAST an inch in diameter.

My 4 - year -old helped me with directions today...

and I'm 5 feet tall,

enough said.

I had a similar experience. I was a pitcher all through little league and up to Freshman year of college. At the time, I could throw 90 MPH easy. The other day we were at a carnival with a game where the fastest pitch thrown over the course of the carnival won $500.

I entered, thinking I had a credible shot.

All I wound up with was a pulled muscle in my neck, back spasms, and a 35 MPH throw.

So much for my glory days.

Since we're all comparing age injuries, I pull muscles by just waking up.

You and I would have been great together in dodgeball. I went through three pairs of fucking glasses in the seventh grade. NO THROWING AT THE FACE! NOOOOO THROWING AT THE FAAAACE!!!

I'm okay. I'm fine.

This was HILARIOUS! Thanks for making me laugh this morning! And wow...I've been trying to embarrass my kids for years, I mean to the point of puking! You ROCK MAN!!!

Quick. You need to think of something to redeem your status as a super dad. This could be one of those moments that requires your son to attend therapy...The day his dad fell of the pedestal...it's not supposed to happen until your child is in his teen years.