21 October 2011

Grand Slam

Although in my mind baseball season is over, I was reflecting on the great season of baseball games, tailgates and outings to watch games I had this year. I was at a tailgate early in the season with about 30 people; it was an intoxicatingly good time. Most of us didn’t have tickets to the game and my attendance wasn’t even confirmed until the night before when I found out that only a few people had tickets, we were either going to buy some down there for standing room or just head across the street to the sports bar to watch it on the big screen.

I started talking to this guy that worked for the same company I do but he was leaving for a new job somewhere else and that was the beginning of the end for me ;-) My soon to be new conquest was from the UK and was of silver fox hotness. Because of this, I felt the need to refer to him as Anderson. I never actually saw him at work because he worked at another site for another division. Anderson and I start throwing back beers trading war stories about the job. Soon after this beer for breakfast, the communal bottle of grey goose comes out so we decide to rock the social and swig then pass. Shortly after that social, I learned that Anderson had an amazing ticket to the game, like the Willy Wonka Golden Ticket of sorts.

The rest of the tailgate crew decides it’s time they are slizzered enough to be accurate at beer pong. I am horrible at beer pong, which is odd because I was always decent and basketball and hooch consumption but there’s just something about the logistics that never work for me. Anderson was going to give it a whirl and I said I’d chug what he couldn’t – in that he heard a challenge to see who could throw back the most libations and still be standing and he accepted that challenge (this was not at all calculated in my mind AT all ;-).

After a few rounds of beer pong with no clearly identified winner AT all, we were all feeling awesome and everyone loved each other and we were all awesome and doing that bff friend talk of sorts – at least we’re fun and positive lushes haha. Anderson and I start with the teenage hot mess lip locking as if Nostradamus predicted Armageddon was going to hit before the singing of the National Anthem.

Those who had tickets and were still standing decided to head into the game, a few bought tickets and some of the crew looked totally lost and were probably looking for their childhood home to return to. Anderson and I went to the sports bar to watch some of the game and by watch I mean eyes closed, lips locked coming up for air only every now and then and for rehydration in the corona sense. At this point I realized that he actually had that badass ticket so I told him to go in and rock the experience. He never went in the game so we decided to see what the game looked like from his tv and by that I mean the tv was on but tuned in to a soccer game and we were up in the boudoir playing doctor.

Anderson definitely knew what he was doing which was rather refreshing; however the amount of liquid courage had caught up with him so we decided to have our own game of baseball. The first go around he slid into home but was called out at the plate. The second round of run the bases he more or less walked it into home. The third at bat (this is now after a few cat naps and infusions of Gatorade and some takeout food) was definitely worthy of adding a run but omg the grand slam – wow, even in flashback it’s satisfying – that silver fox when fully charged can knock it out of the park!!! I even cared enough to make sure it was the same for him lol.

After a while, Anderson drove me home. We’re still friends and hang out from time to time but it was definitely one of those things that needed to be savored as a once and done for a myriad of reasons and that is okay. As baseball season is over, so is run the bases. Football season though leaves room for some new unknown rookie to run it into the end zone to win the game with a huge touchdown ;-)

Point of the Conversation: As the grand slam in baseball doesn’t happen every swing, the same translates into the bedroom but holy shit when that does happen, savor it for a while because you know your next few at bats may be disappointing and you’ll need the fantasy of that grand slam to get you back to scoring position.

- Scarlett

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