Rain, Ramrod, rain

It wasn't supposed to rain. I was assured rain would not fall.

Liars.

The rain fell, ending the game prematurely, just after the top of the seventh. It didn't matter; it was the other team who cried foul, unable to sustain any kind of offense against the devastating, shut-'em-down defense of the Rod.

No matter; the game had been well in Rod's hands after the first inning. The grilling, however ... that's another matter. The sausages may have been safe under the cover of Kevin's man-grill, but the same cannot be said for the Bugles, Triscuits, Cheetos and scads of other chips and dips and cheeses awaiting entry to our hungry tummies.

The mad scramble to keep everything dry was futile as the rain quickly showed us this was one game that Ramrod would not win.

Oh no?

With a few rats jumping off the waterlogged ship, the Rod nonetheless devoured delicious sausages, drank watered-down beer and munched on soggy chips, and held on until the rain, the rain, finally went away.

Ramrod stood, soaked to the marrow but victorious, defiant in the scowling face of the weather, and ready for a second sausage.

Bring it on. The Rod will take it.

Can you say domination?

I've got to hand it to you, Ramrod. You really pulled it out when the chips were down. You really brought it when it needed to be brought. You really, um, kicked some kickball balls.

I'm talking about that stellar 22-4 shellacking of I Like Beer last night, the last game of the summer season.

Here's what you did:

• Kicked homeruns (a three-run shot AND a two-run shot from Cory; a grand salami from Jim K.)
• Kicked around (at least three innings, and perhaps all four; have to check the scorebook)
• Kicked for the cycle (Jim K. did, anyway)
• Argued a call FOR the opponent
• Rallied despite being down a girl and two guys
• Invoked the 8-run-per-ups limit
• And did it all in four and a half innings (see, the umps may have claimed we played a full game of five innings, my scorebook says different -- and I don't remember falling asleep)

You did all this, even though we all wanted to get home to watch Nastia Liukin and the other gymnasty clones.

Bravo, Ramrod. Bravo.

Identity crisis

It has come to our attention that Team Ramrod may be the gayest kickball team ever, without actually having a (known) gay member -- not this season, anyway.

What makes us think that? Consider these oft-discussed topics:

• musical theater
• hors d'oeuvres
• making hors d'oeuvres
• jackets we may or may not have purchased
• shoes
• hairstyles
• heavy metal and classic rock
• dancing
• meat

While none of the above conversations are strictly classified as "gay talk," the whole of them -- and frequency thereof -- sure make us ponder whether we should just be done with it and change our name to Rods.

Catching up with the Rods

It's not so much lack of interest or lack of time that keeps the blog from keeping up with the present. If I had to give a reason, it would be that I'm a slave to inertia. Go figure: I'm a model of Newtonian physics.

Here, then, as the summer season inches to a close, we present quick recap of the spring season:

• It rained a lot.


• We lost to MKF. Twice.


• Never did we play the D-bag Ballers -- but we did give them an awesome nickname.


• Jim J. sustained an awesome kicking streak, getting on base every time until the very last game.


• Casey finished with the highest kicking average: .857.


• Rob, Mark and John all kicked homers.


• Alyson made up a super-sweet spin move.


• Brian D. kicked 2 triples.


• We finished the season with 4 wins, 2 losses and 0 fights.


• Cory and Jim J. led the team with 6 runs kicked in each; Mark followed with 5.

Summer? Well, I've only been to two of the four games so far. We'll catch up on that ... oh, by the end of fall season.