Some of you may recall when I tore a muscle in my shoulder a couple years ago while diving for a foul ball in a friendly backyard barbeque game of Home Run Derby. That I made the catch for the third out is not important. What is important is that I should have learned the lesson that wiffle ball is just a game and not something worth fucking up your shoulder for a couple years over. That catch isn't going to get you on the little league team. Well, I think I took that lesson to heart and tried to keep it light and not injure myself this past weekend when I found myself in a friendly game out in the Happy Valley.
But I still like to win. As you can see, I am a fearsome pitcher:
with many tricky arm angles:
this is what it looks like when you crowd the plate on me:
and this is what it looks like when you clock a dinger off me on the next pitch:
Hey, it's just a game. right?
(pictures courtesy of C-Mac)