The evening began with an intended 6pm pre-game cookout at Sports Cap’n Central. Both grills took alight around 5:45 and were in white-red hotness prime for burning assorted fleshes right at 6pm. MWTFP (Most WTF player) goes at this point to everyone for not coming until 7pm or later despite the need to remobilize for the field by 7:45. While Sports Cap’n takes his share of the blame for not emailing everyone a reminder until 4:20pm the day of the event, he feels his apt grill lighting and web updates tempers his own role in the grill failure. At any rate, this pregame gone wrong was to prove the downfall of all. Team members rushed through their flesh burnings, rushed through the eatings & the sports before sports, culiminating in lots of people late to the game.

Once at the field, the conditions went from slack to suck when it became clear TSGT not only wasn’t ready to play, but also wasn’t sporting a proper balance Y chromosomes: we proved to be a woman short. This caused the appearance of MVPWIOOT (Most Valuable Player Who Isn’t On Our Team), a woman known simply as Meg. She had some mad catcher kicker skillz & did us proud but proved to be not enough to stop up the chinks in TSGT’s once Cohesive Sports Net. Like the proverbial Crocodile Hunter, we found ourselves fighting the wrong fight & getting killed by the proverbial stingray to the proverbial blood stream (proverbially).

It was a game of eternal catch-up, which was played by all in the Team Sports Glory Team camp. For every Kickbot action there was a less than equal TSGT re-action that was jaded & defeated before it began. Ultimately negativity reigned and we were defeated. MVP goes to Rabbit Child for his killer consistency and all ’round good sportiness. LVP goes to Ten Percenter for a herculean throw meant to get the ball from left field to the first baseman — only it was thrown from perhaps 2 feet away from the first-base line.

All said & done, it was clear that TSGT had neither what it took to win nor what it took to have fun. Clearly practice sessions will need to commence to find the spark of positive randomness and fan it into a towering inferno for future endeavors, lest we all freeze as embittered old spinsters.

Tonight’s matchup pitted bitter rivals White Trash Cheese Dip Umps against Team Sports Glory Team for the second week in a row. This time, however, TSGT was in the haouse, burning down the haouse, and then running screaming from the haouse, etc. Bob and weave. Juke steps. 720º spins while flying through the air. 

The shit went down and no one was safe, not even Charles. The scale of rampant randomness was far too much for our poor umps to handle. COHESIVE SPORTS WHAT?!?!? AAArrrrcghhhh….. As a final attempt at retaliation, the umps launched an ejection attack against TSGT’s own Drunken Bastard, who deflected it using only the power of the sun, a bic pen, and his shiny white ass. The net result was a utter defeat for said White Trash Cheese Dip umps.

In other news the apparent fission of Sports Cap’n went well, with the arrival of “Ianfinetismal” - the next successor in the Sports Cap’n - Chubtoe empire of sports kickitude.

This week, we were more than fired up. We were beyond the melting point of diamonds. Operation Melting Points and Pints was a success, beginning with a 7pm pregame that (deceased garage doors excluded) went off splendidly. From 10″ Polish sausages to Bacon-Cheddarwursts, Team Sports Glory Team was in The House, and then Burned Down the House.

We carried our sports mojo forth in a crusade to the field, some of us arriving via golden Audi Chariots, while others came down to the field with jetpacks and helicopters. And who could forget the amazing zipline that El Flaco used to cannonball himself into the chest of their pitcher?

Best of all was the giant inflatable Lagerquist that gave us all rides around the field, towed by pigeons.

Oh, and we won. Somehow we just kept the runs a runnin’! Operation Don’t Listen To Charles was a success, as was Operation Operation.