There are four softball fields next to one another on the corner of campus where we play. The one furthest from the University is right by a zombie graveyard. Surprising, but true nonetheless. Within this fenced off square of ground, a series of low-level orange lamps glow eerily out of the grass and are clustered irregularly together like a mismash of tombstones in an old graveyard. Zombies, I tell you. Perhaps we should have asked if they could help us field.
The team we were playing had opted for the unfair advantage of matching jerseys. They also liked to keep the catcher busy by not bothering to attempt to hit the first two pitches but twacking the third one beyond all outfielders. It was dirty play.
Despite this, by the end of the game we were motoring... or at least running. I even got a run! Sadly, this was not until the 7th innings so we still lost by a rather unfortunate amount. Our bold attempts made no headway with the umpire who looked up at the bright blue sky to comment how we had ten more minutes of light, max. This changed to two minutes once the other team started batting. Perhaps this was her addition to the mercy rule. Perhaps the last team she umpired for had their brains eaten.
When the optimistic call to our fielders to 'let her know when they couldn't see the ball anymore' yielded no results (unsurprising since sunset wasn't for another hour and we are masochists when it comes to the score), she let us complete the innings and then insisted we packed it in. Maybe she had heard stirrings. We picked up our bats and left.
Later rumours marked the zombie graveyard as a helicopter pad for the hospital. It doesn't sound likely.
Zombies.
The team we were playing had opted for the unfair advantage of matching jerseys. They also liked to keep the catcher busy by not bothering to attempt to hit the first two pitches but twacking the third one beyond all outfielders. It was dirty play.
Despite this, by the end of the game we were motoring... or at least running. I even got a run! Sadly, this was not until the 7th innings so we still lost by a rather unfortunate amount. Our bold attempts made no headway with the umpire who looked up at the bright blue sky to comment how we had ten more minutes of light, max. This changed to two minutes once the other team started batting. Perhaps this was her addition to the mercy rule. Perhaps the last team she umpired for had their brains eaten.
When the optimistic call to our fielders to 'let her know when they couldn't see the ball anymore' yielded no results (unsurprising since sunset wasn't for another hour and we are masochists when it comes to the score), she let us complete the innings and then insisted we packed it in. Maybe she had heard stirrings. We picked up our bats and left.
Later rumours marked the zombie graveyard as a helicopter pad for the hospital. It doesn't sound likely.
Zombies.