Just a Jew. Named Mitch. Writing about his feelings.


Posted by JewMitch on May 29, 2009


So last night was my first kickball game in New York. I had been playing dodgeball, but decided to switch for the sole reason that there were hardly any attractive single girls in my league. But I understand, if I was a cute girl, I probably wouldn’t want guys throwing dodgeballs at my face at 100mph either.

The kickball games were held in the lower east side, on a fairly small black top – that was really a parking lot. That still had cars parked in it. But it was fun – because you could kick the ball into the cars or over the fence and into traffic. However, the weather was super shitty – like high fifties and spitting rain.

We managed to play okay despite the fact that a lot of girls on our team didn’t know basic rules (like that you could step on a base when you’re holding a ball to get someone out) and we were so disorganized that we managed to play a whole inning without a shortstop. Still, we lost, and it was raining and afterwards someone else had stolen our pizza (each team gets a pizza at the bar after the game) so we were generally in a bad mood.

This left me wondering why I sign up for team after team and subject myself to this. I’ve never been particularly great at sports – and new teams are always so awkward. The people who know each other from before break off together, and I was sitting there thinking, I should never try to make new friends again. These guys were mostly all younger than me and from Long Island.

BUT then I noticed that one of the flip cup tables had opened up and grabbed it for my team. Within fifteen minutes, everything changed for the better. We were suddenly all best friends, playing competitive flip cup. More pizza came – and the beer just flowed. And while I suck at kickball, I am a reliable anchor to any flip cup team. And I was in the zone last night, hitting almost every single cup on my first or second try.

We reigned supreme on the flip cup table and my memories from the night are a little scattered. Some highlights include – one girl from the team stopping the flip cup game to tell us about all these charity projects she was doing and asking the team for donations. And me cutting her off after 10 minutes by saying, “Yeah, that’s great and all, but this is kind of flip cup time.”

There were some clutch last second wins, more high fives, and I must have drank a ton of beer because I had to get off the subway on the stop before mine, so I could throw up repeatedly into a trashcan on the platform. In front of a crowd. Then I somehow woke up on my couch, wearing just a pair of boxers. Which normally would have been fine, but a few of my roommates friends were staying at the house that night – one of whom I had never met before. So I’m sure he thinks I’m awesome now. But I made it home with my cell phone and MP3 player, so the night was generally a success. And more importantly, I remember why I love kickball. Although next time, I need to remember that when I’m trying to meet girls, I shouldn’t drink 1,000 beers during flip cup. Oh well.


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