Finally, the Rod faced off against the D-bag Ballers. After missing out on playing them twice in the summer season -- thanks, weather -- the stars aligned and we met them on the firld of glory on a muggy September night.
The game was handily ours; the Ballers had a team short a girl, though they didn't bother with the ghost out. No matter; we didn't need the charity.
But the true D-bag colors shone after the game, when they shirked their umping duties in fvor of ... drinking at Slice's -- at least, that's the story to which we're sticking.
So Cory the softie let 'em go, and we filled in to ump for the second time that night. No problem; we weren't going anywhere. But the rules say every team has to ump, and that's just cheeseball when not even two people on the team can pitch in and help out.
The D-bags might have lost their D-bag designator, were it not for the bagging out on the umping.
That's D-bag behavoir. all the way.
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