The King Midas in Reverse Gazette

Editor-In-Good Grief: Adam “Why swing when you can walk” Mead

It’s Alright Ma, I’m Only Bleeding

There are times in life when you walk into a room and are greeted by some sense of foreshadowing; a cold chill; sight of a misplaced book. Team Enneads season has had no need for such drama, and has been void of subtly on any level. Our last game came into view quietly, as we walked onto Great Lawn field #3. The weather was filled with wonder, do we really need another spin off of GLEE? There were hundreds in the outfield, unwilling to move, their head’s covered by hands, the sun to shield. Gensler in years past would have cause us to shake with some fear, but with our record, lost in the headlights more like a deer. We put our ragtag team to the test, we swung the bats, ran the bases, yes, we even took a rest. In the outfield is where we like to shine, there the ball lay, right in front of Nikita’s feet, “Hey is this mine?” Off in the distance I could hear a saxophone play, but it was slow, and a bit out of key, I’d say. Gensler began to accrue the runs, the sun was setting, we was dead, was this really close to being done? “That’s Game”, the ump did yell, My ears hurt, it was only the 4^th inning, but the shock rang like a bell. Over the hills, and through the woods, a slaughter rule did ride. 11-0, it all seemed right, as we left the field a small child sat, being held tight by his trusted black lab. Ten feet further and a dog ran in circles, trying to find a hole, hey wait, was he being led by Studs Terkel? When 120 paces had been laid down, we finally walked across that threshold, wearing out our weary crown. We ordered up our usual supply of beers and wings, The jukebox sung “Band on The Run”. And so another season comes to a close. Time to put away the cleats and dirty ennead softball clothes. Thanks to everyone who came out to play, it’s a season, well, the one that got away.

Season record 0-11-1

Until next year…well on that note.

Editors Note: I think it is time to lay my pencil down, to take a break, and hand over the reins, of this well oiled softball write up. I have mined the depths of literary injustice, and think fresh eyes would do well should they fall on a blank page, coming up with stories of wonder and surprise. Thanks to everyone who has paused in their days to read my tales, and offered opinions, ideas, solutions, and stories of softball demise. It has been fun. I wish the next lucky soul Good luck!

Good night& Good night

Adam