My softball team decided to get these really bad, dorky-ass softball t-shirts. Actually, they're not really t-shirts, more like a powder-blue polyester shirts that resembles the old Brewers uniforms, circa early 1980's and the days of Cecil Cooper and Gorman Thomas, except not as good looking.

So we're wearing these God-awful T's and once again I start the game sitting on the bench. I am now Bench-22- I don't play enough to show I can field better than half of the other people on the team or even hit better than half the people can on the team and thus can't get off the bench. My moping over the whole scenario is only accentuated by watching my team give up 11 runs in the first inning.

But wait, something happens. One of the captains sees that I'm not starting and being cool about it apologizes and tells me he'll get me in as soon as I can. Bully for me. Except he wants me to play 3rd base.

When I was young, everyone wanted to play the infield. It was the ultimate compliment. It was what all the good players on the Little League team got to play- all the kids who couldn't play got the outfield. Which was also the last time I've really played third base, back when I was a kid. As I got older, I got okay with playing the outfield. I realized its importance. And I also realized that outfield is kind of easier to play, as the ball is hit to you, you actually get a few seconds to think about it. When you play the infield, especially third base, by the time you realize that the ball is being hit to you, it's right by you.

The end result? One ball deflected off my glove and into the outfield, a ball through my legs that got caught by the shortstop, and a ball that took a wicked hop that almost took my head off. I also threw the ball away during a run-down between third and catcher, drawing a rebuke from the captain, the very-same captain who didn't yell at all the drops, miscues and overthrows during the game, but took exception on me for bungling a run-down. Now, besides the fact a run-down isn't the easiest play to execute (major league baseball teams actually run drills on it), it's especially difficult in a below-rung, bottom of the pile softball league. I was victimized by the fact there wasn't a color commentator to point out the fact that I had no other choice simply because our catcher, all 6-2 of him neglected to get out of the way and so I had no other choice in doing what I did unless I wanted to paste him with my throw.

Oh yeah, I also made a nice play and tagged someone out as they tagged up to third, but the ump blew the call.

Final score- Other Team 27- Us 5.

After the game, I felt like I wanted to go take off all my clothes and climb a tree in embarrassment, like one of the kids in the "Bad News Bears."