Well, my first year of playing organized slo-pitch in a league has come and gone and I’m already looking to next year to recruit sponsorship and players.
Southland Funeral Chapel and Cremation Services was kind enough to be the major sponsor for us this year along with a handful of other businesses who pulled their purse strings for our team, and they must have had a lot of faith knowing a player like myself was competing on it.
I have some natural athletic ability, having played baseball until I was 18 years old and not being the ninth player in the batting order that you hoped to God the other team did not hit the ball to when I was in the field. I’m semi-coherent at the game, but found slo-pitch to be a whole other entity.
I found myself continually anxious to swing at a ball that was coming at a much higher and slower trajectory than I was used to playing baseball. Despite an ample six-foot-two, 210-pound frame, I was constantly pounding the ball into the ground swinging too early. At that point in my swing, my hips are already over extended and I was just using my arms. It was very frustrating at times  knowing I could rip my share of doubles into the gap in my baseball days.
Patrolling the outfield, I sometimes went against the very thing I’ve taught local ball players in the past, of your first one or two steps being back when tracking a ball. My logic is it’s much easier to run in on a ball than it is to run back and the worst thing you get for being over cautious is a single instead of a triple or in-the-park home run if the ball goes over your head. The flight of a softball is indeed very much different than the flight of a baseball in the outfield.
Factor in letting myself go from my youth in that I now have the speed on the basepaths of Roseanne Barr with a pulled hamstring, and let’s just say if they made a Taber Mixed Slo-Pitch League all-star roster, my name likely would not be on it, except for maybe comedy relief. And in a way, I wouldn’t have had it any other way. Don’t get me wrong, I marvel at the guys and gals that are fantastic at slo-pitch. Most have the all-star disposition for fun as well, I just don’t like the players that have the attitude to go with it.
Before signing up for the team, I made it clear I was doing it for fun. It was a chance to drink a few wobbly pops, share a few laughs and get some resemblance of fresh air and exercise.
I’ve shot enough slo-pitch over the years to know that a few take it far too seriously. If you play at the level of say Jeff Zanolli for Team Canada in his recent Border Battle televised game then fine take it seriously, that’s the highest level of slo-pitch you can compete at and you better be taking it seriously.
But playing in a league where many times players’ slugging percentage with their consumed beers is triple the amount they have with their bat, some need to lighten up. Screaming at a BS  close safe call for the grandfather with two arthritic hips legging out an outfield single does not add to the enjoyment of the game. Neither does siting Rule 48, subsection Z-4 on the field when your team is up 31 runs.
I want my mixed slo-pitch to be mixed with equal parts booze, witty small talk at any base with the opposition batting or in the field, and athletic exploits of a guy far past his prime.
So if you like your slo-pitch like I do, the Southlanders are currently hitting the recruiting trail for players and extra sponsors.
Lucky candidates will get to see me blind the opposition with my milky-white legs as I run the basepaths with the speed of your garden-variety sloth, flash the occasional strong play with the glove and perhaps with the help of a masher like Jeff Zanolli, turn my hitting from mediocre to simply average.....and I’ll still have a big smile on my face.
Having played numerous sports in my youth and having coached youth sports here, I am not going to deny hoping the Southlanders had finished a little higher in the standings besides second-last in the “C” division. But with how friendly and fun the participants were in the “C” division, I wouldn’t have traded that for everything.
In the playoffs we had to have an automatic out because we did not have enough women show up. But as some surplus guys sat the bench, there was members of the “A” Team telling us to get on out there and play the vacated outfield position playing with only nine players. That was Grade “A” sportsmanship. Against the rules yes in which we politely refused, but really, it was the third-place game for the “C” division......and we were all too busy smiling to care.