Wifflemania

The first fatality of the day.

After our stellar performance last weekend, my boyfriend and I were invited back for another Sunday afternoon of wiffleball.  We were short a few players this week, so we improvised ... and we often had so many ghost runners on base that we lost track of them! (They are after all, very hard to see!)

We had two little ones, ages 2-1/2 and 5, take the field this week. The five year old stayed in the game most of the time, but the lure of the nearby playground, full of rocks and toy dump trucks, proved to be too much for the 2-1/2 year old, and we lost him sometime in the second inning.

My boyfriend's son-in-law (who doesn't appear to know his own strength!) destroyed a wiffleball on the first pitch. Fortunately his cousin, Steve "Wiffleman" Willis had spares, and the game went on.  (Note: I don't actually know Steve's last name, but the son-in-law's last name is Willis, and "Wiffleman Willis" sounded pretty good ... so I went with it. My apologies to Steve if he's not a Willis!) 

The little ones, especially the younger one, are too young to understand all (or any!) of the rules, so they didn't always run to first base ... sometimes they ran to whatever base one of their parents was on! At any given time, there were one to three people on any given base. At other times, the adults would lap the little ones! And, since batting is more fun that playing outfield, the little ones batted and ran for both teams!

Once again, everyone had a great time. It helps that there is no pressure at all. No one cares how good (or bad!) you are, which bodes well for me! It's about spending time with family, playing a game together, and enjoying each other's company on a spectacularly beautiful summer day. It's not about winning ... and I'm not just saying that because my team didn't win this week ... it's about making memories. These are the kinds of days kids remember fondly their whole lives.

Even though I'm still recovering from horrendous side-effects and an allergic reaction to an antibiotic, you'll be happy to know I'm improving, and that this week my game looked more like wiffleball than croquet! By the end of the season, I just might just surprise everyone when I pick up that fat red bat and hit one out of the park!

The little ones tended to bypass first and run to whatever base their mom or dad was on,
so the bases got pretty crowded at times.
These two players, both on second base, were actually on the same team!

This week's Wiffleballers.

After the game, a couple of the players thrilled the fans day by sitting down and chatting.