Rookies vrs Barbarians: How to Look Good During an Ass Whoopin'

Look. Generally, I like to get spanked a little. Hell, I liked to get spanked a lot. I am sure there is some sort of Oedipus, PTSD, childhood trauma root cause of me liking to get that ass torn up now and again, but I prefer it in the bedroom (or on the kitchen table), bent over, with The Rock doing the disciplining...I, however, do not enjoy getting my ass beaten on the softball field.

Well, if the Rock was doing the beating, I would lay down ass up on the pitchers mound and chalk it up to taking one for the team.

This week...my beloved Rookies and I played softball on Randall's Island amongst the Little Leaguers. God help the things those poor children hear and learn when they play ball interspersed with homosexicals swinging long phallic objects big enough to give the most devout size queen the vapors. I can just hear little Timmy asking Tia Juanita, "Mira, Tia, what is a auto-fellatio while getting a rim job by a midget?"

"Ay dios mio!" I can hear it now.

So we played a double header against the Barbarians. The Blue (that's Umpire for you civilians) was our favorite blue. This dude is pretty amazing. He's a straight Latin guy that LOVES umping (and humping I am sure) the gay softball league. He is RIDICULOUSLY supportive. Hell, when I was on the mound throwing the ball everywhere BUT in the strike zone, he was like a self-esteem coach from 20 yards. And when I switched to playing catcher (it's rare...but it happens...heyyyyyy!), he was cracking jokes, and I almost peed on myself. Really. I almost peed. At home plate. While squatting. Scottie taught me that.

So our first game had little to recommend itself in terms of reporting. No one, and I mean no one was living life like it was golden. Thank God Mason showed up in the third inning...cuz between my inability to pitch and the rest of the teams inability to catch, we were stuck in an inning that felt like Groundhog's Day up in that piece.

The second game was much more exciting.

Reggie put me in at catcher, which, for the first time I really enjoyed. (Shut up faggots...I know what you are thinking). There were some AWESOME plays by Vinnie, who was pitching (HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. Sorry...sexual visual there---love you Vin), and Joe proved once again that he is 50 and LOVING it. Shit, by the time I'm 50, with all the drugs I've done, I will be happy to be able to run a Rascal through a blow tube, and Joe was running to and fro snatching balls out of the air.

For the first couple of innings, we were down, but not as much as in the first game, which, incidentally was called for time and for pure humiliation. Then, by the grace of God and Cher, we tied the friggin' game. For two innings we held 'em, and then this hot ass mo'fo from their team steps up to the plate, smacks the ball way out to Jesus, and the Barbarians scored five runs.

Now, a long time ago in a galaxy far far away, I pretended that we came from behind, tied the game, and then I had a nasty public sexual escapade that starred The Rock, Dan's new boyfriend, a couple members of the Rookies whose names I shan't reveal, and Bozo the Clown (don't judge), but, in reality, we never made it back, the games ended, and off we went to drown our sorrows in Eric the Bartender's pecs at Gym Bar.

God I love gay softball.

In the end, our team was prettier. And really, in America, we know the pretty people always win. GOD BLESS THE US of A!