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NousDefionsDoc · 09-23-2006, 06:44

Today at approximately 12:30, when the umpire calls "Play ball!" (he will actually say "Juega!"), baseball history will be made. For the first time ever, a team selected, trained, mentored and led by a broken-down SF Medic will play in the Bogota Federation of Little League or whatever they are calling it this week. The Clasiccs will do battle against the Yankies on the main field. No, I didn't mis-spell the names. We are 0-0, the hated Yankies are 2-0.

While they have a strong team, we will rely on our superior speed, surprise and violence of action to overcome what they perceive to be their enormous advantage in that they have actually played together twice and they know the umpire. Some of them are no doubt in fact related to said "Blue".

While their evaluation of our OB is that we only have one pitcher (they are correct), we have prepared a strategic surprise - I'm not starting him. We will start a hard throwing 9 year-old that looks at the batter instead of the catcher when he throws, invariably hitting the first three he faces. Once we have their collective heads down behind the berm, we will bring in the ace that throws a strike every now and then. We hope Fear Swings will be the order of the day.

We will also be using English, shouted at the top of lungs, in psyop operations to confuse the enemy and get inside his OODA Loop.

The Kid has had his uniform on since 0630. I might have to put a leash on him to keep him from hurting someone. He's been yelling at me to "Get moving we have to go prep the Battle Space!" since about 0700. He may be channeling Ty Cobb, he's trying to sharpen his rubber cleats with a handheld pencil sharpener.

Come one come all. The pop is warm and the empanadas can be had three for a buck.

Just for the record, I tried to change the name of the team to "Indig". But there is something in the rules....at the State Department...

09-23-2006, 06:44	#1
NousDefionsDoc Quiet Professional Join Date: Jan 2004 Location: LA Posts: 1,653	A Milestone in the History of Sports Today at approximately 12:30, when the umpire calls "Play ball!" (he will actually say "Juega!"), baseball history will be made. For the first time ever, a team selected, trained, mentored and led by a broken-down SF Medic will play in the Bogota Federation of Little League or whatever they are calling it this week. The Clasiccs will do battle against the Yankies on the main field. No, I didn't mis-spell the names. We are 0-0, the hated Yankies are 2-0. While they have a strong team, we will rely on our superior speed, surprise and violence of action to overcome what they perceive to be their enormous advantage in that they have actually played together twice and they know the umpire. Some of them are no doubt in fact related to said "Blue". While their evaluation of our OB is that we only have one pitcher (they are correct), we have prepared a strategic surprise - I'm not starting him. We will start a hard throwing 9 year-old that looks at the batter instead of the catcher when he throws, invariably hitting the first three he faces. Once we have their collective heads down behind the berm, we will bring in the ace that throws a strike every now and then. We hope Fear Swings will be the order of the day. We will also be using English, shouted at the top of lungs, in psyop operations to confuse the enemy and get inside his OODA Loop. The Kid has had his uniform on since 0630. I might have to put a leash on him to keep him from hurting someone. He's been yelling at me to "Get moving we have to go prep the Battle Space!" since about 0700. He may be channeling Ty Cobb, he's trying to sharpen his rubber cleats with a handheld pencil sharpener. Come one come all. The pop is warm and the empanadas can be had three for a buck. Just for the record, I tried to change the name of the team to "Indig". But there is something in the rules....at the State Department... __________________ Somewhere a True Believer is training to kill you. He is training with minimal food or water, in austere conditions, training day and night. The only thing clean on him is his weapon and he made his web gear. He doesn't worry about what workout to do - his ruck weighs what it weighs, his runs end when the enemy stops chasing him. This True Believer is not concerned about 'how hard it is;' he knows either he wins or dies. He doesn't go home at 17:00, he is home. He knows only The Cause. Still want to quit?
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