Oracles Beat Bass 6-2, Now Ranked #10

Dateline: 10:35 a.m., Friday
Washington, D.C. - Written during an Alcoholics Anonymous coffee break

The grass has grown long at the Field of Dreams. Balls no longer skip merrily through the infield for doubles; suddenly the shortstop (cough, cough) is the most important person on the field. No longer is it only small women and Tim who hit dribblers to the pitcher. The game, my friends, has changed. Gone are the days of double digit slugfests, here are the days of small ball.

Recent weeks have seen the Oracles win or lose (once) by the tightest of margins. This week was no exception. Since I actually looked at the scorecard this week, I know for a fact that the final score was 6-2, and that after "piling" on 4 runs in the first two innings, the Oracles' bats were stifled by the Minnesota 5lb Bass. As a side note, are we supposed to think they ACTUALLY have 5lb "Bats" or a large, 5lb "Ass"? Or is there no joke, and I'm just trying to hard?

But back to the game (before I get dragged back into AA, more on that later). Except for one inning of horrors, the Oracles played a flawless defensive game, and have, I just learned, been allocated three of the 10 spots on ESPN's Web Gems recap tonight on Sportscenter. Check it out. Jason was playing like a human Dirt Devil at shortstop and third, including turning the game's only double play; diving into the basepath to tag out a runner near the end of the game; and in general creating a Florio/Chase-sized black hole in the infield. Luckily, we caught one of his plays on video, though the announcer keeps referring to him as "Ramirez".

Just as the Oracles' machine seemed to be chugging along to an easy win, Dana "Gold Glove? I don't want no steenkin' Gold Glove" MacDonald suffered what can only be described as a "complete loss of fielding skills" for one inning. While her pitching was no different than usual, she suddenly ... just ... couldn't ... field. After one particularly close play, Christy "Where my cops at?" Weisner, began trotting in, assuming the inning was over. Unfortunately, it was not to be. Dana had temporarily lost her mojo. Luckily for the Oracles, even when Dana is wearing a lead glove, she is still almost Scrooge-like about giving up runs. The Bass, despite loading the bases twice in the inning, only got one run in, and the threat was over.

The inning had so frustrated Dana, though, that she felt a need to lie down and smoke till it was coming out of her ears. So Adam "Not quite as funny as Tracy" Morgan stepped up to fill her shoes, pitching admirably to close down the Bass in the 5th inning. Around that time, the Oracles suffered a small scare, when John "Still too sexy for his clothes" Florio collapsed to the dirt, writhing in pain, after twisting his ankle "on the edge of the grass" while legging out a foul ball. Gasps were audible from the dugout, from the street, and from the streets of Philadelphia (good song). About 10 members of the Oracles all rushed to Florio with no idea of why they all needed to help him, but as soon as they saw that he was able to stand, they all slowly drifted back to their beers. As Florio limped, stumbled, and then, inexorably, began to walk in a normal manner, the crowd began a slow clap, bursting into thunderous applause for the Oracles' own Paul Pierce wannabe.

In the sixth inning, Brian "Can't come up with good nicknames for himself" Wagner took over pitching duties from Dana and Adam, warming up as Tim heckled "Are you sure you can do this? I repeat, are you sure you can do this?" For Tim, it was like waking up in a house filled with people who aren't your family but claim to be; it just felt wrong to have Wagner on the mound. With confidence oozing from his pores, Brian began to toss pitches to warmup. From the outfield Christy "You look like an illegal immigrant, can I see some ID?" Weisner (Christy, do something notable so I can find new jokes about you), took it upon herself to point out to Brian that he was stepping forward with the wrong leg. Brian huffed and harrumphed, but eventually chose to listen to his own personal Yoda. After surrendering a single to the first batter, Brian was advised by Adam to "float the ball", which Brian proceeded to do to great effect, ringing up the next three batters in short order (hey, if the advice worked for Henry Rowengartner in the classic movie "Rookie of the Year", it can work for the Oracles. Of course, that has Adam playing the role of my mother ...).

The Oracles proceeded to clean the game up with Dana back on the mound, winning in respectable fashion 6-2.

Following the game, the hardier souls traipsed over to Pour House to celebrate July 25, a special day in Oracles' lore, the day when Michael "Keep your shirt on" Pierce was born 26 years before. Down, the Oracles went, down, down, down into the basement of Pour House, where we proceeded to grab a table and begin ordering a steady stream of Bud Lights and nachos. Beers were passed around, emptied, and cleared. Then we repeated. Someone suggested a drinking game, but that suggestion was overrode by the suggestion that people should just shut up and drink to Mike. And drink we did, indulging in copious amounts of suds, and then, when the appropriate time came, switching to shots. First, it was the Irish Car Bombs, quaffed with aplomb. Then, just to show off what an classy guy he is, Adam suggested switching to Colonials, which he said were "warm whiskey shots." Having never heard of cold whiskey shots, everyone else just smiled and nodded. As this writer, this intrepid soul, wandered off into the night to escort a lady to the "Metro", Adam and Mike were still going at it. No one knows, at this moment, whether they are still alive ...

That is all.


Asshole of the Game: Brian, for getting Brianne in trouble with the other team's ornery third baseman/coach/triple strikeout threat. Joanie loves Chachi, Luke Skywalker is Leah's brother, Brianne hates Brian ... its kinda obvious at this point.

MVP: I've been told that I will get in trouble if I name anyone other than Tim the MVP for finally getting out the other team's ornery third baseman/coach/triple strikeout threat. So ... yay Tim. Thanks to Tim also for his kind words of encouragement after I made a play at shortstop, something along the lines of "I didn't think you were capable of making that kind of play".

MVP Part Deux: So Tim is the official MVP, so sayeth the team, but it's important to recognize Jason's absurd fielding skillz, especially since he probably is going to have to ice his entire body today (which is going to be VERY awkward when a hungover Mike opens the door to Jason's office and finds him naked save for bags of ice. Mike will wish he drank enough to play hooky).

MVP Part Trois: Mike. For those of you who did not make it to Pour House, well, you may never see Mike again.