Peanuts and Cracker Jacks

We kicked off our company softball league this week with a team practice. I know. I didn't really anticipate playing the great American pastime (or at least a variation best suited to the elderly) while in London either. But I guess working for an American company abroad has its unique merits?

I was a bit skeptical of the outing when, after being prompted to explain the rules of the game, I was asked if the batter has to run the bases if s/he hits the ball (there were others, including something about the ball bouncing before it crosses the plate). That's what I get for playing with a bunch of cricket loving members of the Commonwealth. I don't think it helped when I began to explain the bases and fielding positions with "First base is kissing, second base is above the waist", etc. Despite these challenges, I had a ridiculously good time. And no one knew that I pretty much sucked since many had never really played before. I highly encourage playing American sports abroad when in need of a self-esteem boost.

The weather was amazing, Hyde Park is as good as, if not better than Central Park, and we even had enough Lefty gloves for all of us (4 southpaws out of about 12 people - represent!). And because we're in England, there were more than enough tallboys to go around. Interestingly, after a few tallboys I started to feel sort of Justin Gatlin-esque when running the bases. I recommend it.

Unfortunately, things turned for the worse on my walk home. When I pulled my key chain out of my backpack there was no key to be found, and I wound up sleeping on a friend's couch when the yahoos who own my property didn't respond to the emergency pager. Glad I wasn't dying, people. I couldn't stay angry for long though, since when I put my shoes on the next morning I noticed my apartment key looped into my laces. I'm still not sure how I missed that. Then again, sometimes even I am surprised by my own stupidity.