Kickball for Grownups

My friend, Oates, asked me to sub on his kickball team.  I told him no, but he said that if I didn't, they'd have to forfeit.  So I told Oates that if they couldn't find anyone, I would do it.  Well, he couldn't get anyone and I had to fill in.

I was telling my roommates as I was suiting up that I was pissed about having to go.  I really wanted to just go to the gym and go to sleep, but here I am spending a beautiful summer evening in Chicago playing a stupid recess game.

How dumb that there is a league for that game, right?  While you're at it, why not have a league for the game of Tag?  Better still, Freeze Tag?  Or how about a Red Light/Green Light, Mother May I, or Simon Says?  Kick the Can, anyone?  If you really wanted the GOAT kiddie game, put together a Ghost in the Graveyard tournament!

Then I get there and go 4 for 5 with a home run, zero errors, and we won.  Suddenly I'm a fan.

As it turns out, I think my hate for the game was more out of a fear of sucking at it.  That must be that borderline personality* of mine kicking in.

Hey, readers, anyone heard of any of the aforementioned leagues or played in anything goofy, like a Wiffle Ball league?

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*See the angry comments I received in this post if you care for an explanation of this diagnosis. 

You're It, Seven Readers!

I was playing tag with a seven-year-old the other day, and just while I was wondering how in the heck we decide who starts out being "it," she got down on one knee and started touching each of our shoes in succession to the tune of . . .

Bbubble gum, bubble gum in a dish
How many pieces do you wish?

Dr. Ken: Uh, three?

One, two three, and you are it!

Now, when I was a kid, it would have been . . .

One, two, three, and you are NOT it. Not because you're dirty, not because you're clean, just because you kissed a boy behind a Playboy magazine.

Fucked up, right? But not as fucked up as this . . .

My mother and your mother were hanging clothes
My mother punched your mother right in the nose
What color blood came out

Other Person: Blue

B-L-U-E and you are not it
(then the Playboy magazine riff)

I always wondered what the dispute was all about with those mothers hanging the clothes. Maybe your mother took a clothes pin from my mother when my mother wasn't looking? Also, it's awful sexist to pigeonhole the moms into domestic duties like that, right?

Some do One Potato, Two Potato, like this:

One potato, two potato, three potato, four,
five potato, six potato, seven potato more.
Icha bacha, soda cracker,
Icha bacha boo.
Icha bacha, soda cracker, out goes Y-O-U!


I didn't look this one up, but I'm guessing it comes from Ireland with all that talk of potatoes and soda crackers.

Another one goes:

Eeny, meeny, miny, moe
Catch a tiger by the toe
If he hollers, let him go
Eeny, meeny, miny moe

A much more offensive, outdated, racist version substitutes the word "nigger" for "tiger," and then says:
If he won't work, let him go

Yikes. How horrible! I'm glad school children aren't using that version anymore, but I'm sure PITA is offended by kids condoning grabbing poor tigers by their toes.

A couple more things:

When you were playing Hide-n'-Seek, Kick the Can, or Ghost in the Graveyard, and you wanted to indicate that you could come out from hiding without losing the game, did you ever say:

Olly, olly oxen free!


Also, what did you call the safe place to stand or the safe thing to touch in a game of tag, for instance? Was it goal, ghoul, base, or something else? Also, if one guy is touching it, could that guy reach out to grab the hand of another person to keep that person safe through touching the person touching the safe haven, and then that person could reach out to grab the hand of another, and so on, like so many paper dolls? And did you call this effect "electricity?"

Let me know, Seven Readers.

Regards,

The Same Idiot That Inquired About the Bicycle/Big Wheel Ice Cream Store