I have confirmed an embarrassing truth about myself: I'm a trashy, trashy girl. JoJo and I just came home from a dugout-clearing baseball-field melee (JoJo says it was a donnybrook), and I led the fans onto the field. In my defense, I only ran out there to save Chris, who, at that moment, was surrounded by opposing-team players. He had just taken the first punch, was jumped by three opposing players, with two more players heading in. Lucky for him and for me, his best friend Matt came cruising into it all, knocking over one of them like Terry Tate in that video that's going around. For a short time there it was JoJo and Matt against six players. Then it was everybody against everybody. I've never seen anything like it, although it was reminiscent of little league. JoJo is okay, but a couple of our players left the field with bloody noses. Well, one of them left with a bloody nose because of an accident earlier in the game, having been hit in the face with a ball off of a bat (I took him to the hospital), but that's another story.
I had no idea how dangerous this sport could be.
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Fine example the coach sets: Letting one of his teammates come in to save his ass. He should have stripped them all away, Incredible Hulk-style, yelled "It's clobberin' time!", and taken a big steaming dump on each of them. That's pretty much what Terry Tate does in the uncut version of those commercials.
Any sport where the players' bench is equipped with weaponry has potential for sweet, sweet violence. Imagine if Ron Artest had a Louisville Slugger at his disposal when he took a hit from that beer from the stands. It would have been Judgement Night in the stands that evening, and I'd have burned the entire fracas (which was what transpired at Jo Jo's game, by the way) to DVD to watch just before bedtime every night.
I'd love to hear Jo Jo's account of the events. What predicated this rhubarb?
After just arising from slumber, my head is clear enough to relay the events of the previous day.
A little backstory first.
1. We play our home games at a very fine field, the only problem is when there is a foul ball hit backwards, it clears the field of play and has to be retrieved by either team ASAP because we only have three game balls with us and the game needs to keep moving. (this is never a problem as both teams always share this duty equally, except in this case)
2. The team we faced yesterday (Yankees) have a long reputation of Bush league, thug antics. I witnessed this myself on several occasions when I played for the Vikings.
Two players in particular, #3 and #11 are notorious J.O's.
3. Earlier, during BP, one of my players was pitching and due to having no pitcher's screen in front of him, took a ball off the face and had to be rushed to the hospital by KOF. He turned out to have a concusion and fracture. So by the beginning of the game I was already in no mood for crap of any sort.
Start of game:
Plenty of foul balls to be retrieved, which were by the 1 extra player I had on the bench when we we in the field. Mind you, the Yankees who had seventeen players on their bench and eight or so when they were in fact in the field, were sitting on their asses getting a "token" ball or two. Our fans (wives, girlfriends, daughters) were also helping my lonely ball retriever who was also keeping score for us.
Fast forward to the 4th inning, we were losing 5-1 and in the field. The Yankees 1st base coach, #3, was jawing at our players in the field while the game was going on, telling us to "get the fucking balls ourselves," and so on. Meantime, my starting pitcher has to come out of the game with serious arm pain. On his way to the dugout, the Yankees and in particular #3 was shouting at him to start getting the balls now that he was on the bench.
I should also mention that our team had just been joined by our other injured player who had 40% of his left testicle removed a couple weeks ago due to taking a ball there tremoundsly hard while playing CF.
So at this point I had three players (two of them injured) still getting the balls they were able to, while the Yankees were sitting with seventeen healthy douchebags, not lifting a finger.
The top of the fourth finally ends and I had enough. I went to the umpire and in a "I'm fucking pissed and don't need this kinda shit" tone told him to inform the Yankees to "get the fuck off their lazy fat asses and help out instead of forcing our injured players and fans to do all the work."
The ump could sense my frustration and knew I was right so he was on his way to tell them to share the load.
I then started walking up the base line to coach third which was their dugout side.
While walking, I kept my head down being carefull not to look into their dugout and show them up. However, I kept going on about "getting their thumbs out of their asses and getting the goddam fucking balls, fuck, piss, shit, cocksucker etc..
All of a sudden out of their dugout comes #11 with a couple of his homies behind him. He immediately gets in my face and starts telling me "fuck you bitch, you motherfuckin bitch" and so fourth... At which time I start engaging him at nose point and we're going at it like Billy Martin and (name your umpire) I'm making sure I keep my hands at my side figuring the worst that could happen is I might get tossed for holding up the game.
Suddenly, #11 punches me in the face. I couldn't believe he actually hit me--during a friggin baseball game! I barely had time to clench my fist and rear back when one of the two behind him quickly ran behind me and held both my arms back like sort of a lower body full-nelson. The other one also grabbed me and #11 was ready to take another shot when my buddy Matt comes flying out of nowhere and explodes into #11.
Two more Yankees pile onto Matt. Another Yankee attempts to jump on me because at this point I was manical, trying to break loose and help Matt. Before I could get there, my RF arrives and grabs one of the Yankees on Matt's pile kicks him in the back and throws him off.
After this, our entire bench has arrived and is engaging the entire Yankees team. 30 men fighting! Looked something like the "greasers" versus the "soc's" in "The Outsiders."
Holy fucking shit!
Now during this chaos I notice KOF leading the rest of our fans (including a pregnate wife and a 9 year old girl) who were actually trying to stop her, into the mass of humanity like "Napoleon" sacking Moscow. KOF thought I was on the bottom of a pile so she figured it was time to go get me. I started freaking out at this point but couldn't break free because I seemed, for some reason, to be the one guy the Yankees were worried about the most and was being restrained by three of them but was still trying like hell in a thrashing rage to get loose.
Bodies were flying everywhere, blood, hockey-style smaller fights. It lasted nearly 10 minutes. At one point, unbeknownst to me, KOF was face to face with #11, who according to "King," at least thought about hitting her. Nothing happened and she's fine and it's a good thing I didn't see it because had I, I probably would have murdered the motherfucker within 5 seconds. That is no exaggeration.
Finally, it died down and stopped. Nobody was seriously injured, just split lips and bloody noses, incredibly.
The umpire agreed with my assesment that the Yankess were totally to blame, even though they said I was the one who came storming into their dugout and acosted their players. I felt we were well within our rights to defend ourselves and thanked my players and our fans for having my back.
Later that day, I spoke to the League Predident and Chief Umpire both of whom I have a good relationship with. They have had similar, although not nearly this extreme run-ins with this #11 and told me he is nothing but an asshole and will be probably suspended for the rest of the season. (although I will push for a lifetime ban on the piss-ant) We will have the official meeting this week.
Btw, we will win the game by forfeit, pretty sweet since we were losing at the time, 5-1.
You shoulda been there. It rivaled anything you've seen on television.
Where was the guy who shot the "Rodney King" video when you need him?
That is freakin' sweet. I'm seething just reading the story, and very proud of the "restraint" that you showed. That it was the Yankees helped fuel some anger on a subconcious level.
I wish I'd been there so that I could have, um, hid under the stands until the shit blew over. Probably.
J.O.s like number eleven exist in every single friggin' walk of life! They have the talent of bringing the worst out too many of us. I'm glad that your team reflects the manners of their coach, otherwise things probably could've been worse. I hope no. 11 gets a wicked pooping disease.
The biggest upside to this? Good story to tell. That's always a plus.
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