A bunch of bunt singles here and there, until one day I juiced up and hit the big one. I even took a curtain call from the crowd of well wishers. Next time up to bat, I was beaned by an evil wench.
i was always a middle infielder/leadoff guy...but first and only homerun was in an all-star game when i was about 12 years old!! (yeah, i know but i just wanted to tell the all star game story)
I grounded into a sure out, but an amazing fielder's choice followed by an E5, E6, E8, and a absurd E2 allowed me round the bases and score.
a very similar set of circumstances is the only explanation i have for why someone as cool as my wife married me.
I corked my bat... or I stumbled coming out of the batter's box... or Do line drives count? It goes out quickly and lacks drama...
I rounded the bases on a series of balks. Does not get the crowd going like a real homerun, if you know what I'm saying. (Please nobody say they stole home -- that is just not right, given the analogy)
When making love...in an effort...to prolong...the moment of ecstacy...I think of baseball players. All right, now you know. The two of us are making love violently, she's digging it, I figure I better start thinking of ballplayers quickly. So I figure it's one out, the ninth, the Giants are up. Mays lines a single to right, he takes second on a wild pitch. Now she is digging her nails into my neck. I decided to pinch-hit for McCovey. Alou pops out. Haller singles, Mays holds third. Now I got a first-and-third situation. Two out, the Giants are behind one run. I don't know whether to squeeze or steal. ...She's been in the shower for ten minutes, already. This is too...I can't tell you anymore, this is too personal. The Giants won.
I was in the stands simply watching a homerun and shortly afterwards got hit by a broken bat. All the spectators were horrified. or I was in a four sausage race when out of no where a dude hit me with a baseball bat.
