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 Peanuts And CrackerJacksPosted 05.20.2003 by Smort (12)
When I played Little League Baseball, it was back before the time when every park had either a built-in pooper or one of those "corvette shitters" (fiberglass igloos). Consequently, there I was in left field with NO outs, an awful pitcher, a blowhole the size of Mount Aetna, and nowhere to go.
That morning I'd eaten three bowls of Captain Crunch, two slices of pizza left on the counter from the previous night, and a blueberry muffin our catcher (Chester Throckmorton) had given me before the game. He said his grandmother had made it but that he didn't want. Word was circulating that Chet had "put something in it," which I had thought was a joke before but now I was wondering. For one thing, Chet had said something in the dugout like, "How do you feel now?" in front of some other guys, and had gotten a big laugh which had me worried. "Fine," I replied. I wouldn't give 'em the satisfaction, and I was already imagining a more thorough public humiliation of Chet involving regurgitation and nudity. Ironically, something SERIOUSLY funny had already happened during this otherwise lackluster game. At this complex there were two side-by-side ballfields, and another game was going on in the other one. A kid had fouled off a ball onto our field from the other, and our third baseman had retrieved it. Everyone was watching as he picked it up, and everyone was surprised as the ol' boy heaved the dang thing back toward the other field instead of giving it to one of the coaches. It was a good toss, but it was destined for "Bill Bucknerism" as it plunked a huge fat old buzzard woman with an ENORMOUS head who was watching the other game. I suppose it wouldn't have been news if it hadn't hit her head, but the game had to be stopped to make sure the ol' girl was still breathing. She was fine. The ball, however, sustained serious injuries. Anyways, three innings later, there I am in left field; and I simply cannot think of what to do. This inning will NEVER end, and even if it does, where in the world am I going to go to the bathroom? Just let me get through this inning!! Cramps are overtaking me now as there are two outs (the pitcher got two grounders) and I'm ALMOST out of this. I simply MUST take a dump. I estimate I have about one minute before the blast. Should I stop the game and pretend I have a headache? But everyone would know because I'd have to CRAWL in to the dugout. Suddenly the batter sends a screamer over the shortstop's head in my general direction and as I begin the first step toward the ball, a giant Three Musketeers Bar squirts out of my ass into my uniform. I don't even think about it as I field the ball back toward the second baseman and walk back to my post. The Good News: Apparently that Lincoln Log was all that needed to come out; I don't think there's any more that needs to come out with such urgency. The Bad News: I've got a Lincoln Log in my pants. I'm a quick thinker. I can either take this little present back to the dugout after the next out, or I can do something else with it. I hatched a plan. I reached back and let the log flow down to the end of my pants. Then I pulled the pants cuff and the log dumped out next to my feet. After the next out, I planned to reach down with my glove and pick it up and take it back to the dugout. This is doable. We finally got out of that inning. I got the log into my glove and went back to the dugout. I knew that Chet was up to bat this inning, so I decide to wait until he came back into the dugout to do anything. Sure enough, he grounds out and comes back in. I make sure to move to the empty part of the bench where he sits. "How you feeling?" he asks again. More laughter. "Never felt better... why?" I ask, and as he gets ready to sit down I turn my glove over and plop the bugger underneath Chet as he comes down, squishing it all over his chunky undercarriage. I was kicked out of Little League; but when they found out Chet had put a half-bottle of Ex-Lax into the muffin, he was grounded for six weeks. -- Smort Post new comment
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