I meet up after work with Kevin on the five-hundred block of Twelfth Street, on our way to ESPNZone for a drink before the kickball game. We were planning to meet at the Zone itself, but I happened to be walking by as he was parking his car. He goes to put change in the meter, but it’s after six-thirty so parking’s free. But then he totally has to give the change to the homeless guys begging for change, since he had told them he couldn’t give anything to them for having to feed the meter.
Kevin orders sliders to go with our beers. I’m surprised to learn when they arrive that sliders are apparently little burgers, like White Castle or Little Tavern. I have three of them anyway, but I feel bad for the poor little cows.
We make our way to the field, arriving right at seven-thirty. To our chagrin we find out that game time was seven-fifteen, not seven-thirty. But luckily the game before ours ran late, so we’re only just about to get started. Would’ve hated to forfeit because I was late.
The Parc Vista Ballers are in red shirts this season; last season they were in yellow. I remember this because I hung out with Kate last season on the night she reffed their game. And now I remember also that I was totally charmed by a particular young woman on their team. She, at first seemingly such a delicate thing, a rather pre-Raphaelite creature, kicked an infield fly that was easily caught by a defender, and she quietly but emphatically whispered a long, drawn out “fuuuuck” as she made her way back to her team.
We lose badly. The only good thing is that it’s the Ballers’ first win of the season. So good for them.