Your Wife Playing Ball

[dropcap]I[/dropcap]f you get hit in the face with a baseball bat, make sure you have witnesses nearby. That way authorities can haul your wife to prison and she’ll get twenty to life. An even better idea: don’t play church-league softball with your wife.


First off, she doesn’t take baseball serious. She doesn’t know game technicalities, such as: the infield fly rule, or which team she’s on.

And to be fair, you’re no Johnny Bench yourself. It’s been a long time since you’ve run the bags. The last time you got to third base was your birthday.

So, when your wife is at bat, don’t shout suggestions from the dugout. Sure, she’s holding the wrong end of the Louisville Slugger, but this isn’t high school, Hank. Relax.

Adult softball, as it is played among AARP members, is sloppy. And comparing it to REAL baseball, is like comparing scuba diving to your uncle Geether taking a bath. This game is all about fellowship — which means losing.

Here’s how it goes: when batting, you stand there while some fella who looks like your dentist lobs the ball underhanded. The catcher, often a Methodist music minister, talks trash behind you. He says things like, “@#$%&ing Southern Baptists. You sissies don’t even cuss do you?”

If you’re a dignified Baptist, you’ll respond, “Verily, I say unto thee, blah blah blah…”

If you’re undignified, you’ll say, “I’ve got IRA’s in better shape than you, old man.”

But, it’s not difficult to get a base hit, since Grandpa Koufax’s fastball is only slightly faster than his resting heart rate.

Now, the windup.

The pitch.


Then, you dart to first base like the Little Engine That Had Two Meniscus Surgeries. And while you catch your breath, the first baseman asks if you need an aspirin to chew on.

Thus, you shouldn’t criticize your wife. Not even if she shows up sporting flip flops, pearls, and a red SOLO cup. After all you told her to dress comfortable.

When she gets a hit, for Christ’s sake, cheer. Be nice. Yes, she’s running straight over the pitcher’s mound to get to second base. Who cares? Whatever you do, don’t shout, “Aw $@%*!” Because, remember, you’re Southern Baptist.

Besides, your wife might not know how to use a bat on a softball.

But she knows exactly how to use one on your face.