Low Point : Batting into foul ball territory twice to be miserably struck out
High Point. : Getting some strikeouts and making a throw to first plus watching those wonderful catches in the outfield from Gareth and Kevin
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Low Point - striking out. I bottled out of not swinging even though the pitches were far from consistent.
High Point - Making it to first (and converting to a run) from a hit (rather than a walk!)
p.s.remember everyone - low point first!
My real high point was watching the Wolves play fantastically well and take a team, who, on paper at least, should have wiped the floor with us, into extra time. However, I think these hi/lo things should be personal. In fact my high isn’t really a high at all, more a salutary lesson on the effects of alcohol, but at least I’ve managed to extract a (vaguely) interesting anecdote out of it.
High Point: By the end of the evening only a few Wolves were left. My memory’s a trifle hazy (thanks to the beers throughout the game), but my main recollection is of me talking drunken rubbish. I noticed a woman at a nearby table looking over. Then she gestured to me to come and see her. I was over like a shot. We seemed to be getting on well, and the rest of the Wolves went home, as did this woman’s friends.
Then she said to me: “I want you to take me home and make love to me, then I can go to sleep.” For half a second I thought: “Wahey, I’m in here.” Then it occurred to me that she was slaughtered, far more pissed than even myself. This must have shown in my face because she said: “You’re not going to make love to me are you?” I told her I wasn’t but I did offer to take her home. At first she could stagger on her own, but suddenly lost the ability to walk unaided. It was difficult supporting her while carrying my bag and her handbag. It took her a while for her to remember where she lived. Luckily it was close. Getting in was especially tricky. I had to prop her up against a wall so she wouldn’t fall over, while I rummaged around in her handbag for her keys. It was a big relief to get her up the stairs, into her flat, and then get out of there.
Low Point: I forgot to ask her if she played softball.
Such a gentleman, Matt!
Low Point: stepping out of the box TWICE.
High point: home run first up and two catches in the deep (I'm still not really sure how I caught them both).
What a night for you Matt. I am glad you were able to help her.
lol and rofl and all that stuff Matt. Nice anecdote.
Low point:
Striking out. I was in way too much of a swinging mood last night. Some days, you just want to hit things with bits of metal...
High point:
Getting a runner out at Second to end an inning.
Low point - hitting the ball (the only one of the whole match) and then getting tagged on my way to 1st. This ddin't exactly help us up our score in what was a crucial innings.
High point - getting some nice outs on 3rd and watching Kevin make that lovely catch to end the 7th innings on a draw.
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