Week 11's Thing - Kick(Ass)Ball

Small favor?  Grab your headphones.   Press play on that bar above this note.  Listen to this song while you peruse photos of a late afternoon in Alphabet City in July 2012.  A refreshing breeze comes off the East River. (Thankfully, no stink accompanies it.)  Slowly, your friends converge on the agreed upon meeting place.  Everyone suits up and begins an Alphabet City Kickball Adventure.  



The Battleground - We found it was fraught with danger.  Ball-eating trees! Shoulder-attacking lampposts! and Transfixed crowds struck dumb by our athletic prowess!



Team Holy Cannoli says:  Is there a Mercy Rule?



Team Bad Ass says:  Yes to the Mercy Rule!



Game on.  I flashback to gym as a child.  Apparently, my outfield mantra has not changed.  

Please don't let the ball come to me.  

Please don't let the ball come to me.

Please don't let the ball come to me.   


Game 1:  Team Holy Cannoli wins by a landslide.  We re-organize into..... 


Team Shlomo (I've dubbed them this.  I really wanted a Team Shlomo)


Team Ole!  


A (Forced) 7th Inning Stretch

Kickball gameplay comes to a screeching halt.  Alas, our ball is stuck in the tree.



Kickball is thrust aside for a brand-new game.  Let's throw things at the ball stuck in the tree.



When we started the kickball adventure we had 2 balls.  While "warming up" we killed the first ball.  We throw the deflated ball at the stuck ball.  Well, my friends, that equals 2 stuck balls.


We test the old adage:  Duct tape fixes everything.  How do we test it, you ask?  We test it by throwing a role of duct tape at the ball stuck in the tree.  



We actually get the ball free!  


We finish up second (and final) game as the park lights turn on.  When I was young, this was a warning to get your butt home or face the consequences.  



But not without the following photo essay: 

A NIce One For the Family


A Funny One For Your Friends


One Of My Butt For Some Reason


And A Weird One!


It's was kind of like what Ice Cube said this one time, "I got to say it was a good day."



52 weeks of No TV